Fact of the day

Tonight I learned that the inventor of the flush toilet was a one Mr Thomas Crapper.

You cannot make this stuff up.

The night before

Tomorrow is my first day of law school and I've got that excited/nervous/crap-the-holidays-are-over kind of feeling in my tummy.

Know what I mean?

Come on you Royals!

Wicked wicked. Second in the league, a draw away at Southampton last night and, below, taking over Picadilly Circus:
















Come on Reading - getting our name on the map.

When September Ends

Summer has come and passed. It's getting colder, the leaves are starting to brown and I'm back in England ready for school. It's officially been the best four months in my life and I'm so sad it's over.

Thank you to everyone who has made it so good. It's been a dream I don't want to wake up from. All the best with uni, school, your new job or your continued mucking around.













First day of the holiday: Dinner in the Arts Centre with Indo Soc after my final exam.

Awesome road trip to Cornwall with J, Agnes and Roy.

Graduation week: Seeing all my mates graduate,working and living with legendary Arts Centre Stewards...

...and finally graduating myself.

Two weeks of football and film-making in Innsruck, Austria.

The holiday of a lifetime to Bali with everybody.

Giving it loudy in Surabaya.

And time at my favourite place in the world - home.

I ate all the pies

I did the worst thing you could ever do the day before going out trouser shopping: I ate. A lot. And part of me's not even ashamed.

I went out last night to a pre-Ramadan selamatan and I thought I wouldn't get any supper there so before I left the house I made sure I had a bite to eat. Then of course when I got to said destination there was food laid on for everybody after the prayers. I wasn't hungry (in fact I was still quite full from earlier) but it would have been rude not to eat so I did.

Then when I got home just before midnight my sister told me she saved some food for me. Half a deep-pan pizza actually. I was still properly saturated, but again, it would have been rude not to eat when she'd made the effort and it pained me to see it go to waste (well, this is what I told myself anyway). So I ate it. The whole thing. I went to sleep straight afterwards so now I am full. I resisted the need for breakfast this morning but I am still feeling full.

What a schoolboy error. I'm off to get some trousers in a minute but I now have to rethink my tactics. My belt's feeling tighter around my waist. Do I take in to account of my excesses last night and try on a larger pair while risking the eventuality that my stomach will return to it's 34 inch state? Or do I try the regular 34 inch pair but risk the fact that by some horrible freak of nature my belly does not return to its normal state and I remain somewhat portly?

Decisions decisions. Whatever happens you know I will still probably go get some lunch while I'm out anyway.

Alive and kicking

Of all the crisis talk about 'boring, boring football', it has to be remembered that we are still in September and only seven matches in to the Premiership season. The game is still beautiful.

If you're not going to take it from me, then take it from Henry Winter:

"Never have so many people shown so much interest in whether people are losing interest in football. Tune into a phone-in and the lines hum with callers fulminating about cautious tactics and crazy ticket prices. Pick up a paper and for every obituary of the national game there are 10 bulletins analysing what is going on in Roy Keane's foot, in Thierry Henry's heart and in Wayne Rooney's head.

Public fascination endures. Virtual spectators exist in abundance, sating their craving through television, phone-ins, daily prints and the web. Football must now improve the lot of the actual match-going fan, the one faced with the assault course of supporting a team, with its high financial as well as emotional cost.

Concerns? Yes. Crisis? No. Alarm bells should ring only if the phone-ins fall silent, column inches are switched to other sports and TV lavishes its billions elsewhere. The real disaster would be a return to the dark days of Hillsborough, Heysel and Bradford. Hooliganism? Viewed only away from grounds and on celluloid nowadays.

The English patient is sick, but not terminally ill."

I couldn't agree more.

(Taken from Henry Winter's article Crisis? What Crisis? in the Electronic Telegraph, Saturday 24th September 2005)

Law is serious

I've been doing some pre-reading for Law School. The induction pack includes some tips on legal essay writing. I challenge you to keep a straight face at this glittering pearl of wisdom:

"In general, avoid levity. Use formal, standard English. Your tutor may have adopted a fraternal attitude in class. He/she may have made jokes at which you dutifully laughed and he may even have laughed at your jokes. But sitting in a lamp-lit, lonely study, grading tests, he/she is a different person. His/her only interest is to get through the stack of examinations, and to assess the knowledge of each student and be reasonably certain he/she has not erred in his judgement. Jokes are the last thing he/she is interested in, and your efforts at levity may even be punished. The same goes for folkiness, slang and colloquialisms. At best, these waste your space, and his/her time."

I am not letting anyone at school know about this blog.

Don't cry for me Argentina

Gabriel is out for most of the season. I am not best pleased. Get well soon Gabby - you are the man. We can't wait to have you back.












El Legenda

Eng-ger-land!

I'm only half English, I don't care that much about cricket, it is the smallest trophy in the world and it's just filled with some very old burnt wood.

But, damn, it doesn't half feel good!





















Well done England!

What have you done today to make you feel proud?

Saving Private Felicia

Listen up soldiers, we have a situation here. Private Felicia's C-Drive was destroyed by the evil and slightly unreliable computer repairmen known as Mangga Dua Electronic Centre. She lost everything - all her music, all her photos from the start of uni and all her coursework (but she doesn't care about that last one).

Our mission, and unlucky cos I have already accepted it, is to e-mail her any photos we have of her or that she has given us. I leave it in your hands privates. Do us proud.

Goodbye all over again...again

What did I tell you? After our third "last goodbye" last week, Vidya came back from Singapore and I saw her today at Plaza Senayan. As a result, I refused to say goodbye to her when we went home because we'll blatantly end up meeting next week or something. I hope this isn't going to end up like The Boy Who Cried Wolf.

It was fun seeing Richard, Eugenia, Fel and Yus as well. I think Eugenia's been working too hard. As well as the fact that I have to wait until after 9.30pm if I need to phone her so as not to disturb her at the office, she interrupted a conversation about hospitals today to suggest it would be a really good idea for me to write my name and phone number on a paper airplane she'd been folding and throw it to the ground floor. Apparently this is a good way of getting a date.

In case you're asking, no, we didn't write it. And in case you're also asking, +62 21 747 ****8.

BIS 0 - 1 BIS Alumni

Allow jumpers for goalposts, this was the first time in a while I've played in a proper competitive football match and I bloody loved it. It was such a good feeling to come back to my old school, the place I first learned to play football, and see some old footy mates. Even better to pull on a pair of shinpads and boots (both found nesting spiders at the back of our store cupboard at home), get given my old number 4 shirt to wear and warm up properly on the luscious patch of grass that is the BIS football pitch.

Playing again was great too. As expected, the Alumni all got freakin' knackered after half-time but we were solid and held out for a 1-0 win. We played some nice stuff until half-time but then huffed and puffed for the second half just trying to keep a clean sheet and hit them on the break. I was always taught to be calm and play the ball on the deck while I was at BIS but I had to throw that out the window as I got more tired and give it the old John Smith "have it!" boot every now and again.

I wasn't the only one reneging on my footballing roots. Al has grown his hair halfway down to his arse. I don't mind being asked to provide a spare pair of shinpads for him but there are issues with being asked for a hair band so that he could see while he plays. The man played well though and we have to thank him for getting this match started in the first place. My cousin Harris was centre-back for them but I never had to do anything with him because I was centre-back for ours. Thank God for that. He played football the proper way and passed the ball smartly and calmly out from the back.

It was a fun afternoon but I feel like such an old man. I'm only 21 but my legs are stiff and my knees are creaking. As well as that, I kept talking to Al and Santiago about Alumni from "our generation". I'm off to regain my youth with a bowl of Oreos cereal. You can't beat them marshmellows.

Come on the Ashes!

Come on England!

And did those feet in ancient time...

N.Ireland 1 - 0 England

We think we can win the World Cup. Northern Ireland are ranked below Turkmenistan in the FIFA rankings.

Does anybody else find this mildly amusing?

I did it again

I need an eye test. For the second time in the space of a week, I tried to phone Febri but got Felicia instead. I know I am a dumbass but their names both start with 'Fe' so I can be excused right? Fel was none too pleased when she picked up and I sincerely said 'Hello. Can I speak to Febri please?'.

I've added capitals to their names on my phone to become feLICIA and feBRI just so I know now.

It's on like Donkey Kong!

The house was deserted this morning. Three have gone back to England, one was at school, both parents were out and the other two (plus four blondes, a Welsh girl and an Irishman) went to Bali.

I sat on my own for a bit wondering what to do with myself for the next week and then the answer came. Mr Alister Brunskill phones to say there is a BIS (my old school) vs BIS Old Boy football match on Friday. Ooh baby! I am up for it! Thing is, I have nightmares from the last Old Boys match I played in about three years ago. BIS whipped us about 25-4 (prosterity will only know the score was 6-3 because that's what went in the school magazine but only because everyone had lost count of the score after about 10-0).

We had an amazing team but we were so damn unfit. Has and I hadn't played for a term, Keith is usually amazing but he'd spent the last year of uni in the pub and chippy. We thought it would be alright with Emmott and Bailey in midfield but even they had spent the whole of the previous six months smoking and drinking. We suffered and were already half way to fainting after about twenty minutes.

Thus, you can understand the irony in the fact that I had just swiped clean a second plate of the left over tiramisu Mum made on the weekend when Al called. I obviously didn't see it at the time because I had a good helping of rice and sate for lunch. Friday could be painful. I'm officially spending the rest of the week getting my legs, heart and lungs ready to take the boys on.

Well, right after a bit more tiramisu...

You know you've spent too long in the sun when...

...you have sandal tan-lines on your feet.

Heart on your wrist

So much for hearts in mouths or sleeves. Everyone's wearing theirs on their wrists at the moment. Even I (yes, no-nonsense dresser I) am now wearing one. It is from the Hard Rock Hotel, is green and says 'Love All Serve All'. It's just a reminder to myself of how to be if I ever get annoyed with someone, which generally happens at least once a day.

It's good to see what people stand for. However, it does seem to be naturally human to want to 'Beat Bullying' and 'Make Poverty History'. I want to see more personalised bands so we can really see what gets to people and what they individually want to see changed about the world.

I have a few things myself that I would like to see changed for the good of all humanity. If I could make bands out of them they'd, amongst others, be:

A band against people displaying their builder's bum: "Hide That Hiney"

A band against exam invigilators talking to each other and laughing at how easy a paper is when you are struggling with it: "Sit Down, Shut up".

Note to self

Sometimes, perhaps all the time, it's better not to heave your heart in to your throat and mouth. Keep it in your chest where it belongs.

Lost in Translation

In the English-speaking paper The Jakarta Post, I read that a student movement in Indonesia has just launched an active campaign to warn young people about the use of drugs and the need to stay in school. Most interestingly, though, they say they also want to warn against the dangers of “free sex”. Presumably sex that you don’t get charged for is more harmful than the stuff you have to pay for.

“Promiscuity” would probably have been a better translation.

Goodbye all over again

Tuesday night was great. Had a Warwick Indo Soc reunion with Vidya, Fel, Richard, Febri, Dirra and, once she'd finally left work, Eugenia. It was a really good laugh and I was happy to be all together again. We're accustomed to meeting on the Arts Centre sofas but the Atria at Plaza Senayan sufficed this time.

The last year has been really good for us. We were much more active as a society and became a much closer group of mates than we had been before. Where before it seemed as if we were a management team in charge of PPI-Coventry, this year I've felt that it's been more like a group of mates and it's made it so much more fun. I may just be being sentimental but they were all there for what were two of the happiest moments for me in the last year - we had dinner together the evening I finished my final exam and we were together at our almost-award winning Asia Day Stall when I got the call offering me my job.

Sadly, though, it was finally time to say goodbye to the Warwick Indonesian I have known the longest - Vidya. Of course, I've said what I thought was my last goodbye three times in the last three months but I've always managed to see her again. I'm not sure about this time though because she has left for Singapore in search of work and probably won't be back before I leave to England. She probably won't mind this after the ribbing we were giving her about keeping Chris in cotton wool from us for so long (Febri, kamu jahat amat!).

I thought I'd left having to say goodbye back at Graduation but clearly not. I've had good practice at saying it lately but I still hate it. The rest of you Indo's better keep in touch.