She was elusive.
She was today. She was tomorrow.
She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower,
the flitting shadow of an elf owl.

We did not know what to make of her.
In our minds we tried to pin her to corkboard like a butterfly,
but the pin merely went through
and away she flew.
- Jerry Spinelli

Please view me in Firefox.

real friends make u stick to ur diet, instead of insisting that "you're not fat!"... and possibly fatten u up all the more, just to ensure that you'll grow all fat and ugly... so that they'll look better in comparison.


DAMN. i have a mind that'd make any skeptic PROUD.



Ps. Comment on my posts, yo! It makes me feel all warm & fuzzy inside :D
On that note, it's getting kinda cold here...
Tuhan jangan marah yah......


:(
Technorati Profile
I really like how my friends are people who go:

"i have sore legs.

aaaa..

and a polaroid camera. *grin* dum dee dum.."

and:

"Poline..km blh kirim the left behind items secepetnya gk? Hehe wanna wear the ucsd sweatshirt soon..haha btw i just saw a bird fall..kayanya dia meninggal dhe"

Rough translation: Pauline, can u pls send the left behind items asap cos I wanna wear the ucsd sweatshirt soon. btw, i just saw a bird fall, i think it dropped dead.
8th post logged on Nov 27, 2007


I'm a dork, that I can't (and won't) deny. I can easily get caught up in matters of a nature most whimsical, in a full-blown extent, and I tend to get fully engrossed... as in entirely, wholly, and most thoroughly, in the things I'm involved with, even years after everyone else's sparkle of interests had begun to fade.

Take choir for example. I still remember my first class back in 2nd grade. Our music teacher cum choir conductor was Pak Alloy (Pak is a rough equivalent to "Sir" in this context, not to be confused with a Korean name). I recall being a quick favorite of his, largely for answering his question of, "Name me the most versatile instrument; the one instrument that we can carry around wherever we go". Reflecting for a second that this was a singing extracurricular class, the 6 year old Pauline squeaked out "our voices", and was welcomed with a fond smile.

That passion was carried over to my Secondary school days. I secretly envied my friends who were in choir, singing their choir songs with such pride and joy, till one day, through some miraculous school-wide audition, I got into the prestigious TK choir. Anyone who knows me back then would have professed how much pride I reveled in for being a TK chorister (ok, so maybe I don't always openly express it). My Dad even has this perfect blackmail material home video that captured the choir-crazed Pauline at that moment of time. Needless to say, I still listen to Bogoroditse Devo among our other songs, have all my music scores intact (and here with me, thousands of miles away from home), and am enrolled in a Concert Choir class... which I ceaselessly attend although attendance is (commonly) not required in the higher education system. Oh and I'm thinking of taking Chamber Music next quarter. *insert dork smile #2*

Moving on. Literature. I took it back in Secondary school, and I still love it to bits, especially up in the land of Shakespeare, Wordsworth and many others over the summer. I even got this (dorky) little adrenaline rush when I received unseen poem analysis paper assignment during my English Literature class (Eng 123, back in DVC). Oh and I still get all excited when I notice things like the alliterations in Memory (soundtrack of Cats). And I still quote from Twelfth Night and I'm the King of the Castle (our two texts back in the day).

Next. Children: Sunday School (Singapore), Children Ministry (San Francisco), volunteer tutor, CCYC, endless squeals of glee, and mild to moderate stalking of random children at the mall (can one say EXAGGERATION? ok, so I do ogle 'em cute wittle cuddly wuddlykins, but that's about it, k? LOL) and so forth.

Jars of Clay. McFly. K. A. Applegate, Dee Lestari, & Meg Cabot.

Dogs, especially the toy breeds.

Psychology. I mean, PSYCHOLOGY. Though I have MUCH to learn on this matter. It's such a broad study, and I can't wait to plunge deeper.

Cooking & photography & a little graphics & coding. Though these are but interests that I highly doubt would ever take on a professional turn.

B'tX, Rurouni Kenshin, One Piece, Naruto and uh... Ragnarok Online.

Maybe. some of my so called passions did die in the process of growing up. Maybe, once upon a distant past, I was fond of Math. Who knows? My parents still insist up to this day that I was a stellar student who... loved math. A fact I found hard to believe, as I suppose you would, too.

Point is, these are some of the things I got myself involved with, and not only am I passionate about them, I can enthusiastically talk about and analyze the dorkiest bits for hours at end till my voice literally runs out (happened before; One Piece, on the highway back from LA to SD), and still be wide-eyed as I struggle through my rasp voice.

Moral of the story: I could prolly be a good candidate to bring to something. Event, activities, anything. Not only do I tend to jump in and say "SURE!" without thinking if I had some previous engagements (though I've grown to compensate for that by quickly double-checking my schedule and then give my final confirmation within the next 5 seconds), I tend to get friggin excited, too. Yay me!


Ah. The life of a dork.


ps. blech. the word passion makes me feel hella corny & cliched.
Alas, the Great Britain won't ever be the same again. Emma Clarke, the voice of the Bakerloo, Central and Victoria line, or in her own words,

"I've been one of the "Mind the Gap" voices on the London Underground since 1999: I'm one of the people who says things like: "The next station is ... " and: "Please stand clear of the doors." I was chosen to do the job after my voice tested positive with commuters, and after recording the initial announcements, I've done occasional sessions announcing changes to stations, services and popular landmarks."

has been sacked for criticizing the Underground system. Pity, I can't quite recall how she sound like (the T-Mobile voicemail lady's voice is ringing in my ear instead) and it looks like I'd never get the chance to hear her again. Not in the Underground, at least, though I'm positive that the publication would probably do her more good than harm, at the very least in the instant fame department.

Click here for a good chuckle.
I swear it's the coffee I had, it's like a miracle potion that germinates all these budding thoughts, and instantly & magically weaving them into blog posts!


Anyway. I found that I had a hard time deciding: if I were to lose either my Facebook account or this blog, which one would I rather keep?

Though I'd still side on my beloved rag doll, it struck me when I realized how attached I've gotten to my Facebook account. It's all those pictures, I suppose... besides, looking at my own picture makes me feel less self-conscious as compared to reading my own blog posts. Wonder what that implies.

(maybe i knew it all along yet refuse to admit it)
How often do you find someone talk so openly about his / her racism? Not so much? Well, be prepared.

Due to recent incidences, it's becoming a habit for me to fling a "do0d, i hate korean guys" remark. Not necessarily because I mean it, of course. In fact, I don't think I even mean it at all. I can't even trace the chauvinism that stereotypically characterize this particular ethnic group. Heck, I won't even be able to recognize a Korean lest I consciously think about it (such as if there was a recent conversation / other precursory events that bring racial distinction into my conscious mind)! It's more of a personal matter I guess, cause bringing it up serves as a conversation opener, which might even lead to the subject I've been told (by many, myself included) to push aside... and just like an itch or a tick, the more you try not to think about it, the more it'll surface and persist. Pathetic, eh? Oh and besides, after bringing that topic up, I could always brush it off with a "well, not really..." once I finally snap out of my automaton. Though it mightn't undo the entire damage. If that made any sense.

Besides, putting the blame on the entire race might lessen the charges of how much of a jerk he is ("it's not his fault, see? he's just an innocent pawn raised to be such a person!"). Wonder why I'm protecting him from myself. And I can only imagine how mad my friends are gonna be when they find out about this. Another reason why I insist on keeping this blog safely tucked out of sight.

Speaking of which, my friends and I were having this conversation that girls tend to busy themselves away in our attempt to get over someone and are put at an advantage as it is more socially acceptable for us to pour out their heart and talk about the problem at hand. Whereas guys will bury them all inside, and transfer them over once they find another *cough*rebound*cough*... I mean... girl.

Anyway. Him. I'm getting over him, alright. There's but a little precipitation (PPT, yo!) left, yet I'm well on my way to live the "no particular guy of interest" life once more. See? No rebound (:

...

OK, except for this morning, when I talked to a friend who kinda looks like him more than I naturally would (8AM in the school shuttle, I could've easily slept through the 5 minutes ride, but I talked to him instead). A lot cuter, which isn't a hard thing to accomplish, given the comparison. Yet somewhat holds an inkling of resemblance all the same.

It's kinda funny how I make such a fuss & thereby punish myself for that small a detail. It's self-discipline, yo! That's how hard I try :D

Look! I laid a claim on trying something instead of insisting on the gliding effortlessly lifestyle. I'm so proud of myself.

Positive reinforcement!~

And positive thinking! Yeah!
The Art of Espresso still serves the best coffee on campus, with barristas finer than any I've ever met.

A little tidbit on Pauline's consumerism habit:
I ♥ white chocolate mocha, iced (s.a. Art of Espresso's slushie spin, the Snowbunny) or otherwise, though caffeine still gives me the occasional headaches & would kick me hyper either way. Oh and I still can't drink black coffee, and still haven't grown out of the habit of eating pure, raw creamer. Don't make a face, you!

Thus, a better supplemental energy form would be energy drinks, ie. Monster's Khaos (the orange one) due to zomgamazing load of taurine in it (2000mg per can). Good stuff, I tell you (:

And I've been using Jordi Labanda notebooks since my 15th birthday. Wonder if I'd get withdrawal syndrome if I were to stop....



Along the line of consumerism, could you believe that a simple elastic band can sell for a hundred bucks?
Brobdingnagian is a big word that means... big. You might recognize it from Gulliver's Travel as the unknown land he was blown off course towards.

The adjective Brobdingnagian has since come to describe anything of colossal size.
1:53 AM, November 27, 2007

Can't believe that November is drawing to a close. November, the most anticipated month for a certain Pauline Sugiharto... words have it that she still hasn't grown out of that puerile excitement of, cards and presents aside, being queen for a day; a day where you feel loved and appreciated, a day where you're special.

Though I did spend the last half an hour of my 19th birthday antagonized by a bout of depression.

What I'm attempting to do next might be more colossal than a quantum leap. Whatever you do, do not try this at home.

So I finally searched up the rules for "if" clauses. Although the traditional rule itself is much forgotten, here are the 3 butchered-then-summarized rules listed on The American Heritage® Book of English Usage:
1. If it was something you think would be false, you'd want to use were. For example, "If I were ten years younger, I would ...". Note the would that follows. It could also be substituted with the less frequently usedshould.
2. If it wasn't something pre-supposed to be false, however, you'd then be free to use was.
3. As with any grammatical rule, there is an exception to this. In sentences expressing indirect questions, such as if the if clause followed verbs such as ask or wonder, disregard rule 1 and go instead with #2.

YEAH!


Ps. I intended the post to be a little reflection post... until I got too caught up researching for if clauses. The life of a dork, I lead.
While not necessarily a staple in my vocabulary, I do admit of uttering the word fugly every once in a while. And yeah, I'll let you have a good roll on the floor for this, I got it from Mean Girls, the Lindsay Lohan movie. Though I'd be worse off than a hypocrite if I condone the very usage of the word, I do have my objections on certain applications; http://fugly.net for example. That's just... wicked! Pure evil. Nothing short of.



On another spin of the word wicked, however,

is hella wicked! Click here for more pictures. To think about it, their punk vibe sneakers are kinda cool too.

And lol @ my culture confused remark... "hella wicked"... beat that!


Last thing. Promise.
Methinks my twisted-ness is becoming more prominent, with all these (slight!) attractions to skulls and whatnots, which reminds me not only of Edmund Hooper but also... of another "skull incident" that happened just yesterday.
As I was shopping yesterday, I found this tight (the expression, not the fitting) Ed Hardy shirt with a cartoon-ish skull design that's tagged "by Christian Audigier". Though the rest of this story has none to do with the named shirt, (and the rest of this sentence has absolutely no connection with what I've just said in the beginning of the sentence), the little tag caught my attention. The haunting pangs of memory engulfed me; its talon ripping my soul out of its shell, dumping me in the discarded vortex of recollections I try so hard to disown - back to the very memory of the only person I know to love the named Christian Audigier's works by heart.

And I acted like any disturbed person would: I laughed. Cos that very moment, I decided that I was stronger than that. That no ghost of my past can rule me against my will. It might even be a form of divine intervention.... the point is, that very moment I put two and two together: Christian Audigier (do scroll down), and the fact that he's colorblind.

Maybe, I'm just trying too hard to appreciate the irony of life.
home videos are only that funny to the people who made them. same goes for photographs and inside jokes.

memories are worthwhile only to those involved.



my cynicism is starting to raise little red flags... it's bothersome to say the least, in the same way that pessimism will eventually cease to be funny and turn instead into an strenuous toll. cos face it, no one wants to hang around a 24/7 emo cynic who scoffs at every other utterances and rolls her eyes at everything in between, and has snide remarks for the nitty grittiest details, and nonconstructive criticisms for every little thing.
you sicken me, pauline. u know u do.
i dont want anyone else to discover this blog.
please, God?

me no engrish. and it bothers me when ppl read my no engrishness. yes. that.



doesntitmakeyoufeelvulnerable,
whenpeopleknowaboutyou?


ps. im not writing in free verse form or anything, m'kay? im just too lazy to compose full sentences. thank you.
wassup with the whole
"do0d pauline, u give me the impression of... *lost for words*... like i wanna tuck u in my pocket or something..."
trend?

i got it from 3 different people who don't even know each other. all in the same week!


wonder if that's a good thing or a bad thing...
as i was painting my nails this morning, i took a moment to ponder...
why dont i ever paint my nails red?


the first plausible answer that popped into my mind was that ive never worn red...

unsatisfied, i dug further...
and stumbled upon a surprisingly vivid fragment of memory... i hit gold.


the last time i tried it on, i was at wallmart
it was late spring, close to midnight, and i was doing the last minute shopping preparation for SADIS' (the indonesian club) graduation banquet...


and someone advised me against buying it, as he doesnt like red nails
(and upon my description, suggested the pink sally hansen instead, the last bottle of that shade)
that was my last real phone conversation with u
not mad, not
ever...
just...

who am i to judge u by what u say and do
im only just beginning to see the real u...
i wanna hold u till the fear in me subsides
ive been thinking...
(no guffaws, thank you)

some things have changed...
like my perception of mankind, for instance...

i dont think that mankind is inherently evil,
but it's too easy, far too easy, to be leery when someone acts nicely to you.

too easy to think that that's just a face they put; a shallow (ie nothing beyond the surface), plastic, beauteous front donned on in an attempt to win everyone's affection...
or that they were spurred by some obscure ulterior motive...

to easy to believe that mankind can ever reach the depths of another's soul... or that anyone would even bother to. cos once u say u know someone, u prolly dont.

too easy to hide in your shell, tucked safely with your heart cradled in your arms & away from your sleeves.

too easy for a certain pauline sugiharto, at least by november 14th 2007, to draw herself back to a distance from the world.
this layout is puke-worthy. blech. everything about it is just so wrong. x.x



Ps. Clickitty hither for my youtube playlist.
"i don't ever wanna lose u again", he said, holding on to me as if he'd never let me go.



he did.
"It's amazing how much reality sucks when you are not being held in big arms."

Chapter 4

"Could you possibly try to say more than one sentence when talking to me?" My voice was scornful. I couldn't help it. Once the fact that he was so cold to me didn't bother me. In fact, I used to see it as a sort of endearment. But that was before he had shown such passion towards me. Watching him now act apathetic angered me so much. I hated the fact that he had crawled back inside his shell. And I hated the fact that I was the one that did it to him.

Chapter 5
"Hey, the prospects of sex with Aoshi-sama, although tempting, had never really appealed to me. Wanting to cuddle up to him in the cold nights was more of my taste."


Sex and Sashimi, Chapter 3
is an Aoshi / Misao fanfiction, with first person narration through Misao's Aoshi-sama-adoring eyes. And au contraire to its title, it's lemon-free for the most part, save for a few clearly labeled in-between sub-chapters. And it's AWESOME. Most very awesome! And it feeds me with fluff like a Build-a-Bear Workshop would. So YOU should read it too.

Closing my eyes, I let out a loud sigh, "Hasn't done anything to show he requites my feelings. I know, I know, Jiya." His eyes were still locked onto me, making me shift where I stood. "I promise I won't try to kidnap Aoshi-sama and try to make him my love slave or anything like that, okay Jiya? Rest assured, I'll keep my lust in check."

"I can hear you two talking," Aoshi-sama's voice called through the wall.

My face flushed to match the color of my sash.

"I wonder what Aoshi-sama and Sirius Black have in common... tall and handsome aside", Pauline thought, beautifully serenaded by the melodies of her tummy.

a portion of salmon sashimi would be good... off to Shogun* i go!


*An on campus Japanese quasi-restaurant
11:45 AM
Everyone's stirring in their seats, whispers exchanged, while some had started packing their notes and pens. As Psychology students, we realized in the back of our minds that this was the product of conditioning, the life of an undergraduate pupil.

11:47 AM
Our teacher (finally) began to wrap things up, reading out the study question and giving us suggestions to best tackle those questions. Helpful; though it was highly likely to fall on deaf ears. Not deaf in its literal sense, obviously, just... drowned amongst the sea of noises - tables folded back to their places, students shuffling out of the class in their flip flops, and the countless exchanges of lunch plans.

11:50 AM
Lunch time. Torrents of students poured into every walks, the luckier few towards some form of off-campus luxury, while the rest of us head towards one of the various on-campus eateries, only to be beaten by hundreds others, forming lines that hold a vague resemblance to the madness reminiscent of the Wii charade.


Given that, is it not normal for one to think that grabbing a lunch buddy, by means of calling or randomly bumping into them on the way would be as easy as... pressing the Easy button?

Apparently, it's not that easy after all. You see, to press the easy button, you'd have to have the Easy button handy in the first place. Thus. Though that has barely any connection with lunch and such, I couldn't find anyone to grab lunch with. RAWR! Even my usual I'm-not-so-hungry-but-I-still-feel-like-eating self has transformed into FEED-ME-coma-I'M-STARVING!


Poor, poor Pauline.
and i found myself retracing the steps we took, frequenting the place where i saw u that day, unconsciously or otherwise.

-speaking of which, could it be that im in love with the idea of being in love? ZOMG. somehow, i hope so. i do hope so.-


Ps. Methinks imma head down to the food court and eat by myself, lonely as that sounds. *wallows in self-pity while mentally humming "don't cry for me pauline's-fans'-iiiiina"*
A promise is a psychological contract indicating a transaction between two persons whereby the first person undertakes in the future to render some service or gift to the second person or devotes something valuable now and here to his use. A promise may also be any vow or guarantee.



I hereby promise to update on the... juicier bits *leers at willy nilly* tomorrow. or the day after. Happy now?

Other promises yet to be fulfilled:
Dinner with Loraine, return Paul's call & to call Dee2 tomorrow.


Ps. I love u, little rag doll, u know that's true~
ah! the joy of dealing broken links!

NOT.



-_-

help pls? anyone? with the colors... with the fugly layout, with the wordings, with the BROKEN LINK (if u click on tagboard etc, and try to click back to entries, it wont show! ah!!!!!!)

but yeah. very messy coding. paiseh!

Phoebe Pauline Valentine Kribben Sugiharto 朱宝玲, B.S.
110888
Eldest of 3
UCSD Psychology, class of 2008
University of Cambridge, King's College, summer of 2007
TKSS, class of 2004
ICHS, class of 2006, left on 2001
San Diego, California

Best viewed at 1024 x 768
Picture courtesy of Eliara.
Meticulously hand-coded by yours truly,
with much ColorSchemer tweaking fun.
(c) 012509

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