Boston reminds of cobblestone floors, quaint red-brick buildings beset with new, rising glass structures. Often, you don’t walk but rush from place to place, copying the invisible rhythm perpetuated by the inhabitants that was and will be. Boston, to me, is still filled with surprises. One hears a (never before heard) church bell toll one day, a marathon another. The air smells like dirty petrol, but I just never noticed this till yesterday. Most of all, Boston feels like the spontaneous smile you get, when you look up from that brisk, busy stride and see the light blue sky.

Joel calls me a cheapskate here in the US, and I’ll have to admit I am. I’m very excited at any prospect of free things, discounts, sales etc. and today I actually got to have free dinner at Wagamama, a Japanese(?) store by Quincy Market, courtesy of A.S.I.A.

Quincy at night

Though I’m probably one out of 3 asians there. And even so, the other one I know is American born, and it wouldn’t surprise me that the third asian there is too. wtf.

So, I call it happy project day because 1) unlike the usual days, I don’t have to search around for something to take pictures of – aha totally defeats the purpose of 365. But if everyday is really just go class go eat go back room then you really get out of pics to take one lor – 2) I decided to take some time to do projects of my own. Project meaning: go out to the park, sit down and free write. Take time, look around, relax.

I won’t say I’ve been super tense the past few months being here, but I realised today that I have been somewhat affected by the fast-paced lives Bostonians lead. While walking back from Wagamama I noticed that my pace was really rushed, and I was speeding down the streets to get back to the dorms although I really was not in a hurry. I’ve done my work for tomorrow (mostly, haha) and my Friday class starts at 11.30am so I can wake up late anyway. 

I sat at the highest point I could in the Boston Common, which was directly below the obelisk in the middle of the park and decided to just write whatever came to mind:

I took a stroll down Boston Common today, and I finally felt like I’m breathing air. Is that weird? As MetroCabs and fire engines whizz past in the background – I breathe in and tell myself the air around me is fresh. I can smell grass, trees, and these indications allow me to delude myself into thinking of mountains and dew.

From my vantage point two bikers are practicing stunts. He’s on his bike (curiously, not the tiny-wheeled type typical to bike stuntmen) but he’s not moving at all, his eyes concentrated on a spot on the floor. Then he tries to balance on his front wheel, and he falls forward and hits the ground – ‘I leaned too much!’ – I wondered, as he did a sudden swerve that was accompanied with screeching rubber, how often he had to change his tires.

Beyond, the shrieks of adolescents reach me as they, unknowing (and uncaring) of my eavesdropping, indulge in baseball practice. When I was nearer to them, the shrieks were the excited screams of their team mates, shouting encouragements to the pitcher or the batter. The coach paced to and fro on the sidelines. They all looked comical. And so was I. In a passing stranger’s eyes I was probably a weird asian girl grinning and chuckling to herself. 

There’s a bell tolling from afar. Where is it coming from? I’ve never heard this before!

Did you know Boston is beautiful? I didn’t. Or at least I did, but couldn’t tell you why. Today, beyond the dried twigs and newly-budding flowers (red), the chirps of birds and the telltale swish of a squirrel’s tail, I saw for the first time old red bricks and stone, new clear glass and steel posts; I saw the dog owners strolling, relaxing and playing with their best friends; I saw a vast untouched piece of green on the common, presently invaded by three men taking a shortcut to reach the main road; I saw tourists, lovers, students, my own Converse sneakers on the now-familiar pavement. Did you know there’s a US flag flying high on a pole in (what I suspect is) the exact middle of the Common? Now, I do.

A homeless man is sleeping right before me in the cruel Boston wind. I wondered if I should give him $5.

Ultimately, I didn’t. I was afraid he’ll wake up and grab me or something. I’m a coward.

While walking back from Wagamama I also found out where the tolling came from. There’s a clock tower at one end of the Common, and at 8pm today it tolled. To a tune! I grinned to myself again for this new revelation.

Project 356: Day 24 (Apr 2) – The familiar street, walking back to Piano Row

Project 365: Day 18 (Mar 27)

So I eloped from Boston and went to the countryside for the weekend…

Mm hmm!

Hahaha. Haih my eyes so small and my mouth so weird. (self-bashing is really an instinctive act by now)

Said ‘countryside’ is actually the 1100s of Boylston Street. Joel and I were searching (from 80!!! Fuyoh my walking skills) for a guitar shop and we stumbled upon that magnificent stretch of river/tall stalks of things/two ducks chilling. It was such an unexpectedly beautiful sight to be found just at the outskirts of the city (I’m not sure of this claim. Where’s the outskirts? Where does Boston end? I’ll find out one day). I’m planning to walk down Tremont Street next and see what’s at the end

Cutler Majestic Theater

Friday was a good day. I have two sets of photos that could be three-six-fived, but the spectacular scenery won out in the end This is the Cutler, which my school owns *boasts*. I went there to watch Vox Lumiere’s Hunchback of Notre Dame, George (previously unmentioned in blog. George Murray is my new friend here! ) and I went in with no preconceived notion of what it’s all about….

and it turned out to be a Rock Opera Musical Concert thingy with the original silent film playing at the back. They sang in English and Latin. We sat through the two hours, but as soon as we went out of the exit door both of us just burst out in a long LONG fit of laughter. Oh God. Thinking about it makes me crack up again.

Project 365: Day 19 (Mar 28) – Dining Hall

Affectionately dubbed DH by Emersonians, this is where we go for our daily dose of food and all things (un)healthy. You can see the salad/soup/fruit bar on the left, on the right is Home Cooking, and further back is the Grill, which I stopped frequenting since the 2nd week of arriving due to the sheer oiliness of the food that emerges from it. Home Cooking generally serves foods like mashed potatoes (any variety of potatoes, in fact), pasta, pies, rices, poultry etc. The wooden barrels contain little snacks like pretzels, potato chips etc. There’s also a popcorn machine, dessert bar, condiments bar, ICE CREAM STATION, and drinks station on the other side of the room.

hmm. I don’t have a picture for today. I guess I’ll do this instead!

Project 365: Day 20 (Mar 29) –

However horrible the government is. I met some wonderful people there, so <3!

There are days like today, where even the big black distastefully puffy jacket you don in the library for insulation fails you, and the cold, like loneliness, seeps into your bones and stays there, chilled and unchangeable. It’s in the blood flowing through your veins, it’s in the shivers that react naturally to this invasion, it’s winter. 

I won’t struggle to tell you of happy moments today, because although it is good class-wise: i reached room 502 with 15 minutes to spare (thanks xiv and des), after which i went back and had a good nap, I woke up and dealt with 2009-2010 housing – always a good thing to finish these official nonsense asap, I bought 4 bowls of cheering soup, then I adjourned to the library and finished my work for tomorrow, Thursday even. And if I understood the syllabus that laid out Friday’s work I would have finished that too. All that’s left for me to do is revise for Forbidden Knowledge or something, but I thought of a better way to spend my time.

The lonely part about Boston today (this week..) is the sense of being trapped in Emerson and its luxurious go-to spots, all too expensive to be reckoned with often. I am convinced that apart from drinking and shopping you have nothing else to do in these areas. Starbucks is so cramped it’s just not a nice hangout place. Coffee shops in dear Boston! Where art thou!?

I would love to lounge in the Common. Just… lounge. But I’m constantly stuck in uncomfortable concrete, with precious moments of solitude (shared rooms) and real peace and quiet. I realised that I’m a creature who needs excessive amounts of alone time, although I’d trade those for some pure, non G-rated laughter right now. why is it that everytime something funny happens it has to be sex-related?

On a brighter note, I’m flying to miami in less than 2 weeks! I swear i will only wear shorts there!

i’m angry at boston. places to hang out means somewhere to drink, somewhere to shop, or somewhere with a distinct purpose. mall = shop. theatre = movie. place = do.

there’s no where to just go. sit. think. 

maybe it’s the winter.

P.S : Oh, but. That was SUCH a good oscar opening

i’m angry.

you know what! Today it was 17Celcius. one seven celcius! that’s like genting highland! it’s.. it’s… omg i didn’t have to wear a coat! I wore what i would have worn in malaysia and that’s it *proud again* my fascination at my ability to resist the forces of the elements never seems to get old. ah well give it a few months

I brought the wrong clothes over from Malaysia. Let this be a lesson to you. Buy. Clothes. there. 

Stole a few more bananas today. 

My nose has this irritating blood clump that refuses to go. Maybe it’s a cut, but a cut wouldn’t protrude right?

haih. i procrastinate so much when i’m back in my room. must just live in library then i’ll be the most productive little.. girl ever.

cue joel’s laughter. he says i can’t speak malay, and i really can’t – not even to save my life

this is not cobblestone. i wished it were so that I could say ‘boston is filled with beautiful cobblestone streets’ but it’s not lah. the street leading from my dorm to my classrooms is just ugly concrete. got holes summore

a tiny part of Boston Common. Boston Common is this huge park cum graveyard situated directly in front of my college. resulting in much speculation and ghost stories. obviously. graveyard also famous place for people to smoke weed

by now the task of uploading pictures is irritating me very muchly. stupid wp uploader very mafan. i had a pic of me in the common! but wp keeps rotating it for me when i DON’T WANT IT ROTATED.

This is an example of our definition of ‘good weather’. nice and sunny! unfortunately it doesn’t make the weather any warmer. warmth is determined by amount of wind. no wind = no problem!

don’t you just love western architecture? Subang Jaya is hideous by comparison T__T You are looking at Tremont Street. I was on my way to Quincy market aka shopping place #2. the market itself sells a huge variety of foods which is good and delectable, but obviously i walked 15 minutes for another motive

the aforementioned red bricks. haha see ‘caution falling ice and snow’. cracks me up seeing these on the street. then i get scared and walk quickly away from it.

This is Herman. A busking (is this a melbourne term?) saxophonist playing outside Quincy that day. I gave him money because he sounded so good! And the wind was blowing like mad. We chatted awhile and he gave me his name card (his occupation: saxophonist! haha such dedication to his art) The love of his life was a Malaysian unfortunately they broke up because she had to go back to Malaysia and they had to be forever apart. She’s now married to some other guy and has a few dogs around the house. I sob

see! it rotates the stupid photo!

<3 architecture! This is Newbury Street aka Shopping Place #1! I was shocked when I came to Newbury the first time. It’s just one whole long street of shops omg. It begins with Burberry and ends with Urban Outfitters, with a smattering of every kind of shop (well, mostly dealing with clothing la) in between. Needless to say, clothes quite expensive. I only bought things on sale. Zara had jeans sale T_T i got two pairs T_T no need to buy jeans anymore = happy xiao

The jeans were needed since my only two pairs were going to stink if that’s all i have to wear. btw i haven’t washed any of them since i came here – how often do you need to wash jeans? The dryer shrinks my clothes so i’m definitely not chucking them in there!

So now you’ve seen some photos huhu. Happy? can put a visual image to Boston when i talk about it? Sadly I’m so lazy to snap, transfer, upload, post, click publish that I have not taken any pictures of my suite/room. It’ll probably scare you anyway. The common room frequently has a pile of trash attempting to sit unobtrusively at the corner… i stay in my room!

Okay. My turn to indulge

The mutilated parts read: x i a o. The big patch is Rock OUT. I was bored so I guess my iPhone shall be tainted. Recognise my black-and-white long sleeve? hahaha. Comfort clothes itu

I really should get a cover for my iphone.. I only have a pouch and that obviously only offers protection at times… nvm save money.

in Iwasaki Library. Abercrombie & Fitch jacket and my favourite favourite scarf! I have scarf mania here, especially since one actually needs scarves! Oh the joy <3 

I have an attachment to my library When my room gets too noisy ala guests and/or techno/RNB/dance music, or when I really want to get some serious reading and work done, I will trot over to the library and sit in one of the booths. In this picture i’m at the ‘common’ study area where you’re allowed to make noise if you so desire. The library is divided into noise levels. Noise – semi-quiet – Quiet! 

Note: I do not put on make up everyday. It was Sunday (sunday also go library see T_T) and I had time. I tend to only put on make up when I have time. 

This one in booth. Narcissism aside, since this is like the 4th picture of myself in one post? hoho, that Sunday was like 8 Celcius! I didn’t even wear my black puffy coat out man. I walked around my suite in a tank. Again, *proud*

Thus, I end with this photograph (Shhh don’t tell him. He doesn’t read my blog that frequently ) which exhibits the wonder that is Photobooth’s effects. When he finds out I’ll take a horrifying picture of myself and let him post it. When. If

To answer the questions that people always direct to me – dunno why ask about him more than ask about me! – Joel is perfectly fine and even better, happy to be here. Aside from a few incidents like cursing in a mesh of canton/hokkien/malay (which i find absolutely hilarious in our setting) about Apple’s customer service and shipping delays, certain people’s punctuality in certain arenas of their lives and the prices of most things in Boston, he is indeed, very happy to be here. Now, if only he had his Macbook Pro his life will be complete.

As for me, the only class I seem to be good (to my knowledge) at is Research Writing. Our first assignment is almost due. We’re writing a memoir about a specific item that we bought. I will post it up once it’s completely finished, since it’s now only in First Draft phase. I delivered a speech yesterday (worth 20% of final grade!) and screwed up the memorisation part, though the lecturer told me it was good. *Crosses fingers*

I’ve been late once and absent once from Forbidden Knowledge, which scares me to death because 3 lates become an absent and 3 absences become grade deduction! I need all the bloody credit i can get for this class (

Whereas Intro to Visual Arts is… Mark Getlein’s Living with Art and museum visits with the lecturer. Ginger is a nice person, but we are her first class after all. I guess she has to work out a few teaching kinks.

To close this long post (present word count 1062!! That’s a 3 page paper at least), I have been eating a lot yes yes look at the pictures, I have CHEEKS! and everytime I go to the dining hall I take back 2 bananas at least, and if i have tupperwares i’ll smuggle some form of potato chip/snack/juice back to my room. I have a box full of various necessary junk: pocky, yam yam, cereal, kuaci, raisins etc. and I never go an hour without having some form of food enter my mouth. I have an unhealthy tummy from all these food that i’m consuming (yuck) but on a better note, my torso doesn’t have protruding bones now! I stay home on weekends, which means Thurs to Sat in Emerson, since I don’t have a fake ID and I don’t trust anyone to bring me to basement parties which also means i do have no social life whatsoever. I don’t mind being the nerd, though. My goal was to get the highest GPA I can possibly get! Though in the advent of Forbidden Knowledge, 4.0 might not be such a realistic target anymore.

Oh. And I’m the cleanest!

Sitting and staring blankly, willing my fingers to dance across the keyboard but it remains stubbornly still, whilst being surrounded by books and papers that exude eloquence: reviewed by men of influence and claimed to be ‘the best writer around’, papers that receive A’s, classics. I say

my first draft of a memoir sounds like shit

The suite is quiet, an anomaly if on any other day, but it is a saturday after all, and the saturday norm is to don a short dress, wear some impossible heels, and ‘get yourself wasted’, as most people would like to characterize college life. I have not fallen into the endless circle of drink, drunk, hangover yet, and I’m thinking… $80 for a fake ID, $5-8 for a beer, $xxx for the dresses, and a lifetime ruined posture from the heels. Sense turns you into the only person in the suite, possibly on the whole floor, but it’s okay. I relish this rare silence. I write this while chewing on the strawberry pockys I got from the japanese convenience store. It is one of the things that makes me skip on the cobblestone floors of Boston, the familiar taste of artificial strawberries on a stick.

Yet, a part of me avoids the familiarity, like though the Penang restaurant is but a block away, I have only stepped in to it once; like my ongoing search for the leather boots; the sexy trench; like buying the vest I have on my body; like the slight accent that comes out naturally. There’s one part of me that wants to fit into Boston and feel at home. wants to know what to do, speak without hesitating. i want to have conversations outside of my room, want to remember how to make friends.

Now I am enveloped in the silence of my room. Echoes of trance from the club halfway down the block. Clicks on the keyboard. I’m okay with just opening my textbooks, I’m okay.