I like ianthe. But in the real world, they call me Livy,
which I guess is pretty enough. in.a.minute is how I approach a great many things.
I'm 23 and live in Melbourne, Australia. Email,
of course, is optional. However, the
guestbook is mandatory.
in.a.minute we have but minutes to live
Thursday, February 28, 2002
at 10:24 PM << Don't do this at home >> We were messing about with copper ore in Chemistry class, to see if it was actually copper ore. Don't ask.
Did a number of tests. The usual kind. Added sodium hydroxide, hydrochloric acid, etc. Then we messed about with a Bunsen burner and a flame. And then we messed about some more. This is what we learnt from all that messing about.
DON'T, and I repeat, DON'T ever try to fill a test tube with cold water after you've heated it over a blue flame of the Bunsen burner thingy. It'll break. Trust me on this.
Other things we learnt:
1. Mix copper ore with hydrochloric acid, and the solution will turn a nice pretty blue.
2. Filter the solution thingy, and you get salty water with a pretty neutral pH.
3. We've forgotten a great deal of the Chemistry we've learnt in our first degrees.
4. We like messing about.
at 10:05 PM << You want your head snapped off? >> Tired. Very tired. Long day. Sore feet. Sore body. Grumpy. Testy. Don't mess with me.
Had a look in, say hello rehearsal in South Melbourne, at a choir who's choir director ...... It's a long convoluted story.
So, I went to a choir rehearsal. First time at that particular choir. Had to sight read my way through HANDEL (I hate singing Handel), and a very young Mozart piece. I meant young because it was very brash, showy, looked like he wrote it when he just started out in whichever European court he started his career in. I couldn't care less at the moment because I'm so grumpy. Both pieces had terrible running lines, thrills, high notes, semiquaver runs everywhere, nowhere to take breaths, damn Germanic Latin, tricky intervals, blah blah blah.
Yeah, so I had a long day.
I'm not going back to that choir.
Wednesday, February 27, 2002
at 9:07 PM << OMG, NO >> Micro-teaching starts next week, right? So today the lists goes up, on which school we'll be placed for the next four Thursday mornings. So guess where I'm going to be next Thursday morning?
My old high school.
OMG! My old high school! Where I spent six months last year as Assistant Director/general busybody in the school production. OMG, I know some of these kids. And they'll know me!
Argh. Please, please, please let me not get any of those kids. And if I do, please, please let them not remember me or my face. Please, God, please.
Tuesday, February 26, 2002
at 9:57 PM << Speak in whispers >> What would happen if I took a piece of my heart and published it? What would happen if I took a bit of my soul and paraded it? What would happen if I laid bare everything?
It's a conundrum, isn't it?
At the heart of it, everyone wants to be understood. Everyone wants someone to hold their hand and listen. Everyone wants someone to say, "You're beautiful as you are". Everyone wants someone to say, "I am here, no matter what". Everyone wants acceptance, everyone wants ... love.
I'm not an exception. I want all those too.
at 6:12 PM << A pair of jeans and high, high heels >> Between my morning workshop and my Business Studies class, there is a five hour gap. So I went home to have lunch and to hopefully take a nap. By the time I had lunch, relaxed, and was ready for a nap, I had to grab my stuff and leave for the station again.
Yesterday, I had three scheduled classes, each an hour in duration. My first class was at 9am. My last class ended at 5.15pm. On Thursday, I have a three hour gap between my morning program and my Chemistry class.
Sheesh. I haven't had so many and so large gaps since my first year at uni five years ago.
Thorny asked me what I was going to do with myself in those gaps.
"I dunno," I said.
There was a pause. "I told a friend I was contemplating the gym," I said.
Another pause. "She laughed hysterically at me," I continued. "So, I'm figuring sleeping in the library would be a good idea."
It's going to be an exhausting semester. But it's going to be happy, exhausting semester. I've never felt so right in my life. I'm meant to be here. I'm meant to be doing this course, at this uni, at this precise moment in my life.
Everything happens for a reason. Nothing is chance.
Monday, February 25, 2002
at 4:44 PM << At the end of the day, I shall ... >> Three hours ago, I knew not a soul. Two hours ago, I sat in the library, writing about how unbothered I was that I knew noone.
"Five years ago, I would have been terrified and nervous if I knew noone on my first day. Now, today, I don't mind it at all. It's rather nice not having to smile polite smiles. It's rather nice not having to make conversation, talking small talk. It's rather nice not having my aura slowly being sucked at, depleting my energy levels. It's rather nice feeling so unpressured."
Two hours and a workshop later, I know at least two souls - and their first names. And I know that at least one of those souls, will be in my Business Studies class tomorrow.
I am glad. There would be at least one soul to smile at tomorrow, and one other to look forward to smiling at.
Something to laugh about when I look back upon this day:
me trying to figure out where the Start Menu was, to open IE or Netscape - on a Mac. Recalling my befuddled face as I clicked confusedly on the desktop trying to find it. Finally my sheepish face as I finally located the applications list by accidentally clicking the bright Apple icon.
the formulaic end to a phone conversation as illustrated by Professor Ray Misson in my first lecture of the semester. There is a formula to it, I swear - in the form of "Ok. Ok. Bye. Bye."
First Person: Ok. I'll see you at 5 on the lawn.
Second Person: Ok. See you then.
First Person: See you. Bye.
Second Person: Bye.
See if you can get away with not using the formulaic "Ok. Ok. Bye. Bye." when ending a convo. I dare you to do it. In fact, I double dare you!
Being that uni is slowly emptying and seeing that there is noone sunning on the lawns outside, I shall retire from the stage and betake myself home. The trams and trains should be relatively free from formal suited corporate workers by now.
A filmy, pastel dress, draped softly across the skin. It flows with each movement, floats with each slow turn, freeing the movements, freeing the soul, freeing free.
An empty room, warmed by the glow of polished floorboards. A wall of windows, and the dawn sun casting early light. Alone but for the soul song. The light warms gold. Hands lifted and flowed. Feet moved and danced. Head to the warmth and spun. Eyes closed. Ears hearing only the soul song.
Dancing to the unheard song of the soul as the misty dawn sun becomes the polite morning sun. Dancing until the song ends, and the world begins again.
Do you think me weak if you saw me cry?
Do you think me pitiful if you saw my tears?
Do you think me strange if you heard me sob?
Do you think me soft if you saw me cry?
If I saw you cry, I would think you strong.
If I saw you cry, I would think you beautiful.
If I saw you cry, I would think you real and human.
If I saw you cry, I would think you capable of love.
1. Hey, baby, what's your sign? Do you think it fits you pretty well? The proud Lion(ess). Yes, it does actually.
2. What's the worst birthday gift you've ever received? Umm. I don't know. I don't remember.
3. What's the best birthday gift you've ever received? A framed picture of all my mates from uni that was taken at a friend's 20th, which they presented to me on my 21st.
4. What's the best way you've celebrated your birthday thus far? Since I don't normally celebrate my birthday in any big way, I have little to choose from. But I would say, the best so far, was my 21st. I threw a casual barbie at a local park, in the middle of winter, for two handfuls of people. It was very relaxed, a lot of sitting around tables, picking at food and talking.
5. What are your plans for this weekend? Cleaning and getting ready for school.
at 10:06 AM << My prince, the frog >> He is indeed, too much.
Lord Tyrant: Where's my morning kiss princess?
ianthe: you're not entitled to one
Lord Tyrant: WHAT?!
ianthe: LOL. that's a nice shock to the system .. would wake you up anyhow
Lord Tyrant: What exactly am I entitled to then??
ianthe: at this moment? feeding me.
Lord Tyrant: *makes a face*
Lord Tyrant: Tuna sandwhiches alright?
Thursday, February 21, 2002
at 9:09 PM << My mailbox is empty. >> Noone loves me anymore. *pout*
Shock of my life when I got into uni today for an orientation session, and was told that classes begin on Monday. Monday.This Monday. Not Monday week, but this Monday. And on top of that, we begin micro-teaching in the Science program week after next. Week after next. Shockers! I'll be facing the kids in 2 weeks!
Other than that, I'm rather looking forward to it - despite not knowing a soul. The staff are very enthuasistic, and the passion for their jobs show. It's easy to learn from people like that. It's hard not to be caught up by their idealism and passion when your philosophy are so close to theirs.
I think I'm going to enjoy myself.
Wednesday, February 20, 2002
at 9:09 PM << Tuesday. 19.02.02. On board MH133. >>
Wet, damp paper
A shallow dip into another existence
Are you still there, despite my resistance?
Tobias Rule, he lives over there
Seventy if a day, rocking on that porch day after day.
I'll go with you anywhere, if you'll pay the fare.
at 1:00 AM << Please don't make me go to sleep yet. >> I have been up since 4am, terrified I was going to oversleep and miss my flight. I didn't. I was the first one at the check-in counter instead. However, for my pains, the computer did not want to acknowledge my residency visa and a call had to made to Canberra. Aduh, tension only!
Needless to say, nothing dramatic happened. I'm here, aren't I? In Melbourne, finally. That was one long journey. Bags under my eyes. Dehydrated skin. Dehydrated body. Sore, sleepy eyes. I hate having to travel so long to get to one place. Stiff legs, stiff ankles, sore fingers from carrying way too heavy hand luggage, icky clothes after the journey.
But I'm here at last. So beautiful to be among my things again. And joys of joys, I have mail to read through! Junk mail to pore over. Books to read.
It's so nice to be back.
Monday, February 18, 2002
at 6:03 PM Oh, oh, oh, oh.This is absolutely beautiful. It's snapshots of home. The colours show up so well in the pictures, I was beside myself with excitement. It's Melbourne to the T, with all its vibrancy and old world charm.
I'm so awake now.
at 5:25 PM Put me to bed. Please. Exhausted. Utterly exhausted. I want to go to bed, take a nap and sleep till the sun goes down, but I have packing to do. I have to coordinate luggage, boxes, bag, hand luggage. What to leave behind, what to take? Will I need this? Will I use this? Do I really need this floor mat thing? How am I going to cram yet another item into my already full to bursting luggage?
Taking things out, putting things back. Rearranging things, stuffing things, dismantling some things, throwing some other things into my hand luggage to worry about later. What do you mean I have to bring that back with me, Mum?!! It's impossible.
Tired. Ohhh, tired. My body aches, my mind buzzes static. I need a nap. Now.
Sunday, February 17, 2002
at 3:45 PM Won't you come out and play, Lilian my Lilian. Lilian is about eight years old, and has long dark hair. Eyes full of fun and life, inviting me to come and play with her. So I did. I played. Roping games like we played in primary school days. Tumbling hopscotch, jumping games, and skipping down the road. A great deal of laughing. A great deal of just playing.
A lady, tall and gentle, clothed in white, watched us benevolently to the right of us. She seemed to find great delight in watching us play. I could just see the soft smile on her lips, out of the corner of my eye. Knowing she was watching, knowing she was there filled me with great delight and joy. She didn't say a word. She just stood and watched. Like a sentinel. And Lilian and I played and played.
This I saw, in the midst of my mind. This I felt, in the midst of my mind. This I remembered, from the midst of my mind.
at 2:31 PM "Excuse me, but I can't hear myself here." At practice, the mikes were working fine. Of course this was in a fairly empty cathedral, with only the Band and a scattering of folks. The lead cantor could be heard. Everyone else could be heard, even my off notes were heard - and there were a lot of them at practice. I'm surprised B. didn't yell at me to watch my pitch at the time.
Long story, short. Come "the show is now on the road, please do not mess up" time, the backup cantors' mikes went on strike. All three of them! Incredible! Meanwhile, the lead cantor's mike was perfectly fine. R. and 'bt., who played lead and bass guitar, were going to us every five minutes, "Sing louder! Try to sing louder. B. said to sing louder."
I muttered to G., "I can't sing any louder than I already am. My lower register is practically non-existent!" G. looked at me as if he just noticed a third eye in the middle of my forehead. Okay, so he was a little distracted by the non-behaving mikes.
Bleh. A disappointing end to my brief career as a cantor. I enjoyed it though. It was fun, and very absorbing. Reminded me of the days (omg, was it so long ago since I've been to a Choir rehearsal?!) when I was tempted to throw a temper fit because I thought a solid three hour choir rehearsal was not nearly long enough to suit my exhibitionist tendencies. Ahh, such were the days.
Oh, botherisome. Blasted song is in my head again. Come, sing it with me, so it'll be in your head too. All together now.
"But it goes against the way
I am to put my human nature down
And let the Spirit take control of all I do ... "
Oh, forget it. Someone's flat and it's throwing me off.
Saturday, February 16, 2002
at 12:01 AM Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. As soon as I got home from Ash Wednesday (on a Friday, no less) mass to meet up with Dad, I rubbed the ashes from my forehead. Yielck. Went to dinner and you could tell who was Catholic by the dark crosses on their forehead. A fair number, I tell you. Church was PACKED! Thank goodness I decided against heels. Oh, and for those in the know, I saw Mama - she's back, should have dropped by her place yesterday!
Enough usesless trivia. Went visiting with the girls yesterday. Joyce wrote about it here. Can't be bothered writing about it. The day was rather hazy anyhow. I was feeling decidedly unwell - too much bak gua and layer cake, methinks. However I must defend my taste in music. The beat's infectious! And it makes me happy! And you don't want a depressed Livy on your hands!
On another note, I have decided to give up chat for Lent. Heaven knows how long I'll stick to it, because I love my ICQ. ICQ is a lifeline. ICQ completes my life. Perhaps I'll not give it up for 40 days, perhaps I'll just do 30 days. Perhaps. Hmmmm.
Wednesday, February 13, 2002
at 12:42 AM Shall I threaten to cry? In a funk. Suspect I'm PMS'ing. Thinking irrational thoughts. Eating way too much junk food. Grumpy. Saying stupid things. Pouting. Either PMS'ing, or I'm just being a female.
Chinese New Year Eve. Dinner at Second Aunt's. One word. Bleh. Enough said.
First day of Chinese New Year. Brunch at First Aunt's. One word. Bleh. Enough said.
But we started a jigsaw puzzle last night. Two words. Fun, frustrating. Enough said. And introduced Dad to Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. He was very engrossed. Why is it Philosopher's Stone in Australia and Sorceror's Stone here? Marketing majors, please explain.
Sunday, February 10, 2002
at 10:54 PM Disrepectful child! Got into a screaming match with The Young Boy in the car, after dinner out. Not screaming screaming. More like very loud disagreements. And all because of a song that I was singing. It was in my head, damn it. I had to get it out. So I sang it.
The Young Boy decided to comment on its origins. He reckoned it was from some movie with Moses in it. I said, which one? He said, that one. I said, what that one? Prince of Eygpt that one or what? He said, Yes. I said, No. Can't be in that. I don't remember that song in it. He insisted it was. I insisted it wasn't. He said, then where it come from then? I said, I don't know. He repeated his question. I repeated my response. He repeated his question. I repeated my response. Then Mum shushed us up.
One minute of silence, punctuated by the chuckles of Dad. Then a voice piped up, mimicking my response. Mum, Dad, Denning cracked up. I fumed and got sulky and grumpy.
Sheesh. Idiot me. Sometimes I suspect I'm never ever going to grow up.
at 7:56 PM Come here, have to tell you something. Confession to make. Been watching Disney Buzz a lot, courtesy of The Young Boy, aka Darren. Comes on Friday, Saturday and Sunday at 5pm on the Disney Channel - perfect timing for The Young Boy. And unless I wanted a screaming match between him and I (imagine, a screaming match between a 22 year old and a 6 year old ... don't go there), I have to sit there and watch Disney Buzz. Either that, or go do something else. Like cook dinner. Or read a book. Or go outside. Heaven forbid.
So, anyway ... sit closer ... have to tell you that Jien is cute as! And funny. And cute. And funny. Oh, and Azura's not bad either. Karen ... she's going to take some getting used. But Jien. Oh Jien. He's so funny. And cute. And funny. And cute. Have I mentioned funny? I love a guy who's funny and not scared of making a fool of himself on national television.
Been reading Jia. Her writing style has kinda rubbed off on me. A little. Just a teeeny wensy bit.
Saturday, February 09, 2002
at 11:55 PM
Happiness tinged with sobriety. Good mass, good singing - except for the recessional. Typical soprano mentality - able to sing a 3rd above melody, struggling to sing a 3rd below melody. Heh. But happy. Kinda. Missing him again. Bleh.
Don't like missing him. Creates all sorts of problems with the mind, and ... stuff. This wanting to share the little things in life ... it sucks. Creates dependence, which I dislike because it means vulnerability and open to deep hurt. Which is why I don't do long-term relationships. Which is why I'm trying to talk myself out of thinking of him, of missing him, of persistently dreaming silly dreams.
My heart cries, but my eyes stays stubbornly dry. "And so, this too shall pass." I cling to the hope that "this too shall pass". Time alone with my books and my music helps. Good, idealistic work to keep my mind and my hands occupied, helps. Giving myself to the music everytime I sing and letting the tears flow because of its immense beauty, helps. And besides, Mother Mary and the Lord are always near.
at 1:45 PM
D-day arrives, and I can just see Mother-of-mine chortling at my growing unease and nervous-ness. "See now. You think you can sing any better?" said she, as she watched the contortions of my face as I wiggled in my seat at mass, listening to the cantors last week.
"But they're mangling their diction, and he's not singing it with heart! It sounds off!" I wailed.
Poetic justice. Now, I'm going to be up there. Hopefully just providing harmony.
Jason, being the supportive brother he is, said, "You'd better not croak," when I told him the news. Heh. Fine brother I have.
A former friend said, "I'm going to change my seat this weekend and make funny faces at you, to throw you off." Very kind of you, my dear.
Hmph. Having said all that, I'd best go retune my ear and warm up.
Friday, February 08, 2002
at 6:05 PM ianthe: what have you been up to?
Leona: me being planning wedding
ianthe: aduh, who's getting married?!!
Leona: gotlah geegege
ianthe: who?!
Leona: me lor
ianthe: WHAT?!!!!!!!!!!!
ianthe: you're not serious .. *flabbergasted*
Leona: haahh a gotcha no lah kidding
Leona has a wicked sense of humour, and I rise to the occassion every single time.
Heh. I'm so gullible. Who could blame me, though. It's our ages, girls. I live in daily expectation of someone telling me someone else is engaged or married. How about a wedding reception at Siang Siang, huh? Or better yet, Hui Sing!
*laughs* Inside joke. Also a location joke. *wipes tears from eyes*
Oh my, I needed that.
Thursday, February 07, 2002
at 6:49 PM
Jeez, the mood swings comes and goes. First, I'm as high as anything, and the world is grand. Next thing I know, it's down in the dumps for some reason or another. Must be something I ate. Bah. Must now go and find something to laugh about/at.
Wednesday, February 06, 2002
at 6:26 PM
I offered to make dinner. Dad rang to see what I wanted from the wet market. He rings back two minutes later.
"The Big Boss says you're going to mess up her nice clean kitchen frying the fish. So, no need to cook," he laughed.
"She what?!" I spluttered. The Big Boss is our family code for Mum. We house cleaned yesterday for Chinese New Year, and the kitchen is apple pie order, to Mum's heart's delight.
"The Big Boss says you're just going to mess up her kitchen." Dad was clearly enjoying this. He was laughing his head off.
I was stunned, and just a tad insulted. "Okay. So I don't have to cook?"
"According to Big Boss, no. You want to ring her to confirm?" Dad was still laughing.
My sense of humour returned and I laughed with Dad. "Nah. Can't be bothered. She says, not to cook, I won't cook."
Dad was still laughing when I hung up.
How about that? My mother refusing to let me cook in her kitchen for fear of me messing it up. How about that?!
A blessing at any rate. I don't like working in that kitchen.
at 1:09 PM
Jason forwarded an email from Superduperglorious Friend that said, "After my tour, I'll have a couple of days to recuperate and then will be off for my year long adventure in China, Beijing."
Oh, Beijing, China. Doesn't that sound terribly exotic and the height of adult sophistication? Travel! Opening your eyes to the many wonders of the world, broadening the mind, and conversations peppered with, "That year when I was in China ..."
"A year long adventure" How I sighed over that. It sounded so adventurous, so brave, how I wished I was her, how I wished I had the courage to do what she will be doing - fly to this fascinating, strange country and live there for a year. How terribly exciting, I thought.
Have I mentioned yet that I will be joining her in Beijing? Oh, not for a while yet. I'm still at the planning stage. But I should be in Beijing for a visit before the year ends.
I'm excited. Jason would grumble, Denning would have no opinion, Dad would harrumph, Mum is all for it. Darren ... Darren, like any 6/7 year old would look at me in wonderment. And if certain persons would make their way to Melbourne anytime soon, 2002 would be tops.
Tuesday, February 05, 2002
at 12:49 AM
Miserable as anything because I insist on second guessing the motives and meanings behind comments. Miserable as anything because I insist on thinking. Miserable as anything because I want things to be happening now. Miserable as anything because being in limbo frustrates me. Miserable as anything because I make myself so.
I think too much.
I have too much free time on my hands.
And I am irritated at Guyfriend who told me not to waste my time here. "Have a good time", he says. Idiot, I am not having a good time, haven't you noticed yet? I have better times in Melbourne - apologies to Joyce.
Who was it that said "I am a stranger in a strange land?" Moses? This is not a strange land, but I am a stranger to it. I have always been a stranger to it. Sometimes it's bearable. Other times I just endure until it is time to leave.
Monday, February 04, 2002
at 10:50 AM
Having words with the darn online timetabling system at uni. It won't let me log on unless I have the four last digits of my library barcode, which is on my student card, which I haven't picked up yet, because I have to pick it up in person, which I can't do because I'm a continent away. !!! Let's do that exclamation marks thing again. !!!!! And again. !!!!!!!!!!
Bah, humbug.
Meanwhile, Mother-of-mine is on a Chinese New Year cleaning spree. I'm off to polish the floors on my hands and knees. Ow.
Sunday, February 03, 2002
at 10:14 PM
Shhh. Butterflies in my stomach, my heart all a flutter. Shhh. Breathe in, breathe out. Close my eyes to center myself. Breathing in, breathing out. Shhhh.
Don't ask me why butterflies are fluttering. I don't know why. No reason why butterflies should be at all fluttering.
But a lyric comes to mind.
"Something's coming, something good,
If I can wait!
Something's coming, I don't know what it is,
But it is
Gonna be great!"
I've been invited to join the cantors at church "for a bit of fun", at least until I have to leave for Melbourne. Perhaps that's it. I haven't sung publicly since September. The voice is rusty, my technique half forgotten, and to be certain, my ear and pitch would be off. Being the music perfectionist that I am, to be performing at a microphone again with the bare minimum of rehearsal absolutely terrifies me. Especially since I would be singing harmonies on the spot.
Breathing in, breathing out. Thinking of a white blank canvas. Breathing in, breathing out. Centering myself, calming myself, slowing my thoughts. Shh.
Friday, February 01, 2002
at 5:28 PM
"So what are you doing now?"
"Now? Well, I'm on a break."
"From?"
I laughed. "From life."
They laughed. "What are you studying?"
I laughed again. "I just graduated."
"So, looking for a job now?"
"Urm, no. Starting another degree next semester."
"What?"
"Um, I'm going back to school."
"Studying what?"
"Education. I'm going to teach. "
"What were you studying before?"
"Engineering and business."
They looked like stunned mullets. "You're going to teach? Teach what?"
"Chemistry and business."
"What will happen to your engineering degree? Aren't you going to use it?"
"Um, no."
"Why?"
I sighed and launched into my philosophy. "Because I have to do something I would be happy doing. Engineering isn't it."
"Oh."
"Wow. Three degrees. Professional student."
I laughed. "Yep."
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