my life so far

>> this post as well, a victim of the long P word


haven't been posting for some time, even though a number of events streamed past my life, with Death on a raft, bypassing me at least twice.

i) on my way home from co practice, the train juddered to a stop, it's front half adjacent to the platform of Chinese Garden, the other half still out. there was a long pause, before most of the lights went out. the commuters were stuck inside for quite some time, the only entertainment being the MRT staff running around outside and communicating with walkie talkies. We were then told to head to the head of the train. We exited at the first door. We hung around, not quite sure of what to do until the they announced that there would be no more train service from jurong east to boon lay.

i went to the ground floor of the station. there were sounds of sirens in the air. Everywhere, heads turned in the general direction of the main road as we all tried to make sense of the situation. i haven't a clue what happened, but policemen and civil defence people were rushing in.

i called dad and asked if he could come on his motorbike to bring me home; but he declined [found out later that he has downed quite a substantial amount of beer]. he told me to take a cab instead, but there was already a long queue at the stand. what's more, the spaces were, at that moment, being occupied by police cars (or was it civil defence vehicles? forgot).

i walked home.

the next day, i came to know what had transpired. someone had committed suicide by jumping onto the tracks just as the train (the very one i was on) came into the station.
he couldn't foot his medical bills, on top of that, he had had rent to pay and a family to feed. thus, he quit the game of life.
when the news was out, donations poured in to aid the family of the deceased. he could have lived, really.


ii) there was still some li (pear) left in the bowl. i presumed they were my mother's, so i took them to her room, wanting to proffer the fruit to her. the master bedroom toilet door was shut, there was a strange moaning coming from within. i've never heard my mum cry in pain, so the moans sounded foreign to my ears.
"mum...?" i asked.
"jiao papa," she said, her voice soft and laboured. "hen tong~~~"
i called dad.
my mind was a blur as i went back to reading my book [Drowned Wednesday by Garth Nix] but i could hardly concentrate as the moaning continued, accompanied by my dad's voice as he tried to comfort my mum.

we called the ambulance [the emergency "995" please-get-your-ass-here-this-instant-995], but they took about 10+ minutes, i think. during that worrying 10+ minutes, my sis and i paved a way in our house for efficiency by opening the side panels of the gate and door, and shifting the carpet and sofa aside.
the ambulance people arrived, bringing with them a stretcher and heavy equipment; they stepped right into our house with their shoes on. stomped into the master bedroom, where my mum lay lying on the bed with dad seated at her side, the dim lamp casting feeble yellowish light on this gut-twisting, sickening atmoshphere. then they proceeded to ask calmly and none too quickly, if my mum had fever or high blood pressure, and any other pre-existing illnesses, while mum was still crying out in pain. if you look above us that moment, you would probably see large bursting speech bubbles saying "GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!!! $#(^$)!*@^$)(*!^@$!!!!"
Mum was transferred onto the stretcher and pa followed them to the ambulance.
Silence reigned in the house as my sis and i looked at one another and simply shrugged. dad probably wouldn't be back that night either.

luckily, it wasn't a big issue. we went to NUH the next day (or was it next next day?), on Deepavali. Mum had some problem with her instestines, something about food remains or something that lined the inner wall of her intestines, turning into ancient crust something something something that caused her pain. the follow-up treatment saw her drinking lactulose, this substance that's supposed to soften your stools. they encouraged more dietary fibre as well.

white, silver and blue [ii] ashes to ashes...

before i've even lifted my finger to type the first alphabet for this post, my ah mah must have been completely and utterly ashified and urnified. my parents are supposed to collect her ashes at 2.30pm today.

the coffin was removed from the void deck after a short service at 9.45am and slid into the hearse. we trailed after the van for a short distance (50m? 'round the roundabout), mum and dad's hands on the vehicle, looking like they were powering it.

before we got on to the main road, we were ushered into the coach (booked by the undertakers: "the resting place"). the trip there felt long. the coach was probably rumbling along at a max of 60km/h, and we lost sight of the hearse at a traffic light adjacent to jurong junior college. as my sis and i sat right behind the driver, i could observe his weird antics all the way to mandai crematorium and columbarium. his lower arms were maneuvering the steering wheel, his fingers flicking the dashboard below. once in a while he would turn to his right, check out something over there, jingle a few keys, before turning his gaze back in front. he didn't seem very mentally sound to me.
on top of that, i could see cute little Buddha statues and taoist statues on the dashboard, and a shepherd Jesus on the large rear view mirror.

we were directed to hall 4 for yet another service by the 2 pastors, who alternated smoothly, one speaking in english, and the other in chinese.
we sung a hymn in hokkien.
then they proceeded to say how grieving is a natural human reaction. they continued by stating how, we can grieve with hope, while there are others who grieve, but without hope, reminding us that "your mother, mother-in-law, grandmother is now smiling at you from heaven's balconies".
"i'll tell you three reasons why we grieve, with hope," says the english-speaking pastor, whose words were quickly translated by the other.
"first, she is at rest and free from harm. second, she has gone home. third, there will be a reunion one day." here, he glanced specifically at us, the family members. he then proceeded to elaborate on his points, after which, he reiterated them again, and once more, like as we all had a test and the 100-mark question will be "Name me 3 reasons why we should grieve with hope at Choo Kim Eng's demise."
following, the family members have to stand (yet again) around the coffin, while the other relatives and friends paraded paid their last respects to my ah mah and shook or squeezed our hands. we were given white roses to place on her coffin. the lid clicked home.
that was the last anyone will ever see of Mdm Choo Kim Eng.

we were led off to the viewing hall.
on the way there, my vision started to blur. oh crap, i thought. this is bad.

there were some steps down, and a large glass panel in front. we were a floor above where the coffin will be wheeled in. the place felt like a bird park or zoo, where visitors will crowd around the glass and try to spot animals in the foliage beyond. here, the white coffin that was wheeled in was too conspicuous to miss. at the sight of it, many of us broke into tears. the sound of weeping filled the air. i started to sob myself, biting my lip wasn't doing much good.

as the staff transferred my ah mah's body from the roller to the machine (that will push the coffin into the furnace), my aunty gina started to cry "MUMMY!", her hand stretched in the direction of ah mah. the automated machine paid no heed to her cries, and dutifully rolled the white wooden box in the direction of the furnace. the doors at the far end swung open, and the coffin slipped slowly out of view. "MUMMY, SEE YOU IN HEAVEN! SEE YOU IN HEAVEN!" she wailed. the doors start to swing shut.
ashes to ashes.

white, silver and blue

my ah mah breathed her last on Sunday 8*10*2006, 1430hrs. she went peacefully in a catholic hospice at Thomson.
her coffin now lies at blk 355. it's white, with a few small silver angels. her head and her shoulders were visible beneath the glass. there were stretches of white cloth on three sides, blue light casted on them from the bottom.
clusters of galaxies of relatives / friends came. there was a christian service just now. understandably, they made everyone teary. just like the other time, when it was my grandfather. i escaped it. had rehearsal for the performance tomorrow- hold on, it's today. yah, it took like 3 hours, of which, at least 2 hours was just sitting around waiting for something to happen.
anyway, i believe ah mah was a good person, though i was kinda afraid of her. she was less intimidating during the days when she was plagued with the disease that finally took her life: breast cancer.
cancer. *shudders
found out a few days ago that my friend's mum also has breast cancer. that word sends tingles down my spine.

私の誕生日

what can get better than this? XD
十二国記公式アニメガイド！
this ranks 1st. (thanks ling! thanks jonasan!)
next is my erhu, which is my 2001 birthday present from mum and ah ma and cost $290.

i got "ella enchanted" (from a book by Gail Carson Levine)(not sure about the order) from yume, and "Helen the baby fox" (子ぎつねヘレン) from my imouto. like cool! 've been wanting to watch them. xoule gave me the usual: a bar of toblerone. tradition, he says. mail from uncle gerd: a beautiful butterfly card with €30 tucked neatly inside a mini envelope on the cover. had a pink shirt from junie and a cute card with the grey bear (whatsitcalled?), there even a sticker on the envelope that reads "がんばったね" (ganbatta ne).
みんなさん、本当にありがとう！　(minna san, hontouni arigatou!)

been slacking the whole day. after leaving school, i popped down to bras brasah to get 千斤 for my 二胡. the inner string broke a few days ago, and the 千斤 has certainly seen better days. alighted at bugis, took a gander around bugis street(?) for hair accessories, and detoured to the library, before actually stepping through the doors of karl heng enterprise. i didn't know which to get; the softer one or the more durable 千斤, the person recommended the hardier one (which cost $2 more) and i erm, obliged. [soft=$1, hard=$3]
downstairs, at the ground floor of bras basah complex, i was accosted by this young lady trying to get me to donate to a certain "New Hope Community Services", and while she was babbling away in rapid mandarin why i should hand $10 to her, i was looking at the green card, eyes scanning it for all the information i need. oh well, when i walked away from bras basah, i was one ($10) note lighter, suddenly regreting my decision to part with my cash and hoping fervently that it wasn't just some bogus charity organisation.

父と母 started their char kway teow business downstairs that afternoon. it was totally weird seeing my parents inside the stall, tending to customers. just downright weird.

overall, it was a good day. but i forgot to make a wish. wonder if it's still valid. hm... world peace?

net force

If the earth were to stop spinning suddenly, would we be thrown off our current positions?

(just like when we jerk if a moving car stops suddenly)

Middle Kingdom

>> i have been like procrastinating forever on this post; i think i'm just gonna post it. incomplete, of course.

it has already been some time when i flew to the Middle Kingdom and back. the Middle Kingdom; just a more fancy name for zhong guo, china.
here are the details of my visit:


well, what can i say, i was so happy when i could read the japanese equivalent of "bon voyage" at changi airport; 楽しいご旅行をどうぞ　[ありがとう!]
we boarded the plane, one of the Boeing 737 species. it was not as big as the name suggests though; it was only 6 abreast with an aisle down the middle. the stewardesses all go "早上好" as you enter. i wanted to say "好、好" in reply but nothing escaped my lips so i just smiled stupidly.

breakfast or lunch or brunch was beef, cauliflower, broccoli, mushroom, paprika and the other stuffs they usually give during flights: bread, salad, fruits. if you really want to know, the flight attendants have red and dark blue pinafores, with a white blouse beneath. it's... quite neat. my chinese is becoming a little too rusty. i needed 5 seconds to process their question ("yao he shen me yin liao?") Oh crap.

[you chang you chou][the chapter about how i was dissatisfied with the airport staff]


this must be the first time ever i yelled at someone i don't know in chinese. okaaaaaaaaaay. not yell exactly. more like "cried indignantly". i cleared the health authorities, the immigration officers (aka passport stampers){she didn't say a word to me, didn't smile at me, just scrutinized my face like as if i had "Princess Adeline Irisis Fercossa Audythien" for my name in my passport or i had 3 eyes and the photo of me in the passport didn't> and went ahead to pick our luggage from the belt. i waited what seemed like eternity, stealing a few glances at the immigration counters. my eyes couldn't register my parents but i thought that was probably due to my failing eyesight. at last i saw them seated on a bench outside the toilets atwixt the health authorities & immigration counters. i walked down the lane of one of the unmanned counters and called out to them. one of the airport staff tried to shoo me off but i pointed to my relatives and tried to explain what i was doing there. she told me to stand over at the baggage are. "我父母在等我！" I said. luckily i caught their attention.


Xiamen International Airport isn't far from Changi International Airport in terms of cleanliness and design of the interior. we're only short of carpets and aircon. don't forget the (free usage of the) telephone & internet.

the toilet was most memorable. you press a green button at the back, the plastic enveloping the seat frame slides clockwise and becomes stationary after one oscillation. hence, each patron's posterior comes into contact with only his/her particular region of plastic. totally cool. wonder what sort of toilets kikawa is using over at iwate.

our guide received us at the airport. a chinese guy who looks to be in his late twenties; "小張", he calls himself. our luggage went into the trunk of minDB1330.


>> haven't even gotten to the actual tour yet, long winded standalone prologue =P

gay

why are male homosexuals called "gay"? is it because they are merrier than solely heterosexuals?

musashi no hanashi

i just dug out one of my exercise books, and inserted within were several pieces of A4 paper: short (and incomplete) stories it turned out.

this one was supposed to be the "answer" to an o level question:

5(a) "But you promised!" she cried. "I will never trust you again."

Passersby stared quizically at the lampost she was yelling at, but to Myrdith Noden, as the woman was called, she was not yelling at the unresponsive structure by the road as the others had thought.

Myrdith Noden was screaming down the ear of a man she had just met weeks ago, a man whom others could not see. He was a towering figure, clad in a crisp formal suit with a perfectly positioned tie and stiff pants, complete with a pair of polished classic leather shoes. The man had a kind, good-natured but weathered face, a little pale, where wrinkles ran across his forehead and a welcoming smile on his on his upturned lips. What Myrdith did not notice was his feet, both about a hand's length above the ground.

"You. Broke. Your. Promise!" she said through gritted teeth, emphasizing every word.

The man drifted backwards, as if her words had driving force.

"I WANT..." Myrdith cried but felt a hand over her mouth.

"Brind her in," someone said.

Her mind faintly registered the shutting of doors before darkness enveloped her thoughts.



The room smelt like the rest of the hospital - medicine, sterilising solution and latex gloves. Everything looked cheery, bright flowers in the vase, curtains imprinted with fluffy clouds even the doctor sitting behind the desk appeared merry. The only thing that was not cheerful was Myrdith. Her head spun and she had difficulty focusing her vision.

"So... you're Myrdith Noden," the doctor said with a smile.

Myrdith nodded. "Yes...," she murmured.

"Feeling ok?"

"Better...," she managed to reply.

After a moment of silence, the doctor asked, "Can you tell me if anything significant happened to you recently?"

She seemed hesitant, but nodded. "Yes. There was an old man. Simply followed me all the way home. Couldn't get rid of him, it seemed..."

The doctor's smile never left his face. "And then?"




>> it stops there, there was another "answer" to the same question.



5(a) "But you promised!" she cried. "I will never trust you again."

General Zhou Yuan clasped his cloak on, wondering what on earth his daughter was ranting about. The general had a reputation for being forgetful, so on occasions, his daughter would remind him of promises he never made. He wondered if this was one of them.

"What promise, Zhou Ling?" he asked wearily.

There was still a fair bit of time before dawn so the hall was lit with a dozen or so lanterns, their dim flickery light casting shadows in the hushed hall.

"You said you will not go to war," Zhou Ling replied.

Her father patted her head tenderly. "I'm sorry. This is the emperor's order."

"I won't allow you," the ten-year-old girl clutched his hand adamantly.

Zhou Yuan smiled wistfully, wondering if that was the last time he will set eyes on his daughter. Insolent, mischievous, rebellious: only child. He beckoned his wife, who had been standing in the shadows.

"Escort this little rascal back to her room."

"No!" she yelled her head off. "You'll be leading millions of people to their deaths..."

Zhou Ling's voice trailed off as her mother dragged her across the hall and pass the courtyard.

"Dad..."

Heaving a sigh, General Zhou Yuan picked up his sword and left the Zhou Manor.



"Would you believe it general? Your daughter followed you and your army all the way to Kuang Feng Valley."

Zhou Ling was handed over to the leader. Smirking, he continued. "I must admit that she is rather strong-willed, but of course, in seconds my able scouts had her under control."

"For heaven's sake, she's only ten," cried Zhou Yuan.

"Yes, ten only but so very useful..."

At this, Zhou Ling bit the hand that held her, her teeth clamping hard on the fingers of the person who had taken advantage of her father's love for her.

He wrenched his hand out, blood and saliva dripping, much to the horror of the audience.

"So?" he asked with amazing phlegm.

In answer, the general drew his sword.

With a smug smile, the leader did likewise.

The atmosphere became tensed as all eyes fixed upon them.

It was, however, not the general nor his opponent who broke the silence but Zhou Ling, having been momentarily forgotten.

"Stop," she asserted, positioning herself between them, her back to her father. "Don't fight."

"Move aside," the chief growled, he raised his sword till the tip pointed towards Zhou Ling's chest.

"Zhou Ling! Don't!" General Zhou cried.

She stood firmly on the ground, not budging an inch.

The sword flashed and in that fateful second, impaled the body of Zhou Ling.

intellectual

who do you consider an intellectual?
someone who's well read? who's delved into politics? or perhaps religion? a Phd. holder? or someone who's pondered life's big questions?
whatever it is, i realise i really am quite ignorant. i haven't read the must reads (e.g. the da vinci code), i haven't exactly gone throught the whole bible (i'm a pathetic catholic, can someone fire me from the congregation or something so i wouldn't be obliged to attend mass every sunday?), and i don't give a hoot about politics.

all i care about is completing my assignments on time (but they usually get handed up off time anyway), studying japanese (this i do fervently), reading japanese comics, what goes into my stummick, trying not to offend my friends, composing substandard music, and reading the occasional fiction for maybe the 1st few chapters.

i'm an ignorant humanoid, trying to act like an intellectual (take definition in a general sense) with my heightened linguistic abilities. it's as good as a vacuum in my nutcase.

Mission Impossible IV: The Kimono Project

i never once wrote about my life. (online)
i thought it too banal for my blog, and had no doubt that any visitor would just skim through with indifferent eyes.
and i have serious doubts about my ability to write.
my longest blog was but 239 words long.
i usually am lost for words when typing reports, and i wonder what my classmates throw in to make their wad of paper that thick. if making that 2000 word report was so difficult, i can forget about uni essays.
on top of the chronic (well, i think it is) verbal constipation, my reading speed has steadily decreased. is it because i'm doing more drawing than reading now?
the last few days have seen a frantic me working OT at the corridor with a big frame 175cm x 130cm (can't remember the exact dimensions)and a clothed stretched on it, waxing and painting away for my EDS (Experimental Design Studio). "Mission Impossible IV: The Kimono Project" it called it; well, mission accomplished, i'm glad to say. Waxing took me a day, painting took a day, measurements and dyeing of the sleeves and collar took half a day (i was working on MMMI in the morning), sewing took half a day (courtesy of my mum and grandma, no marks for them though)(the sewing was quite haphazard, that's what you get when you go at that speed). I was amazed myself at the time in which the garment was completed. That was only about 3 working days, from waxing to completion. Add about 2 days which i took to transfer the prints on paper to cloth and we have a large white squarish cotton from clementi made into a stunning (aha, not really) kimono (more like a yukata, since it's unlined, and wanting an under kimono).
i'm still typing the report *curses* and am taking a brief (questionable, i know) respite from facing verbal constipation in front of the Word document. succintness is not a desirable quality when you got to churn reports like this. bloody reports.
wow, 345 words.

shopping

Tenderly, she caressed the crimson silk. It was smooth and warm, and it radiated a soft sheen, a beautiful lustre. She brought the fabric to her cheek, revelling in its touch -
The sensation disappeared. She opened her eyes.
"Add to cart?" A smoothly articulated voice said.
She stared at the hologram of an evening gown projected in front of her screen. The logo of the garment company floated at the top left.
"Yes." She mumured.

suicidal

suicidal thoughts came unbidden to my mind. when i'm crossing a road, i look at the cars; "run me over", i tell them. when i'm in a tall building, i keep looking down at the ground floor, wondering how it would feel like to make an impromptu trip down. "shinutai", i keep telling myself. in those few moments, thoughts of pain were pushed aside. i had lost my appetite for life.

basic necessities

the "philanthropist"

thought

when two bodies are attracted to each other, it isn't chemistry... it's gravity.

CAPITAL & town Letters

i have this personal grudge against english. why must we begin a sentence with capital letters? why must names start with capital letters? above all, why must "i", as in "yours truly", be capital as well?
we have 26 small letters, and that's enough. no need for another 26 more.

目

i hate it when people don sunglasses. i can't see their eyes. it feels like they're blocking out my attempts to read their emotions - i can't even tell if they're looking at me. (the psychological power of "the gaze"?)
i can't tell if they're sleeping, looking at me, glaring at me... i can only infer from the surrounding facial muscles what thoughts they are currently thinking.
perhaps a large part of sensing other people's emotions involves observing their eyes...
but then again, is it really imperative to know how others are feeling/thinking?

Poetical Mood

Heirs and heiresses
of infinite stupidity
Inherit us
the core of humanity
Thoughtless actions
Mindless deeds
Our brash desires
quick to feed

---

There seems to be
a finality
to this miserable life of mine
A feeling that
it will all get
just anything but fine
The starting line's
not far behind
yet i can see the end
A trip ahead
expenses paid
to hell that's me they'll send

Normal Students

Normal. Normal Academic and Normal Technical.
Students in these streams would be usually looked upon as substandard.
Why then, did they put the "normal" in? Why is the bulk of the students in "express"?
Is this some psychological bull---- to make us think we're good?
I don't know.

Linguistically Speaking Scrawling I

Linguistically Speaking III

Is the glass half full or half empty?

Perhaps it is more of a linguistical question than a psychological question...
I mean, one would usually say: "It's half filled with water." You might say it's half empty if it had once been full.

On top of that, this question may only be valid for certain languages... I can't imagine how to phrase it in chinese!
杯子半满还是半空?
半空的!
You are more likely to say: 半杯水 [half a cup of water] "half a cup of air" would be totally weird.

[note: i'm using chinese because that's about the only valid language i can compare english with. my japanese's not worth mentioning. correct me if i'm wrong ^^]

Is the glass half full or half empty?
How about "it's 125ml water and 150cm3 air..."

Piglet and Sow

"What is the meaning of life?" asked the piglet.
The sow thought for a while. "To eat and sleep, my child. To be."

"What is the purpose of life?" asked the piglet.
"To be life for humans," replied the sow. "Food."

"What happens after we become food?" asked the piglet.
"We'll be washed down the sewers," answered the sow simply. "Take comfort, child. At least we know where we're headed. Humans don't."

Hypocrite

O Thou of the treacherous heart,
Wherefore sustain thy acts?
Meaningless & empty,
Thy hands link not to thy heart.

Thou meanst not what thou say,
Thy lips betray thy soul.
Leave! O nocuous weed!
Let those who remain flourish.

Chess

He took a draught from his goblet. "Your turn."

The person sitting at the other end of the table raised his eyebrows. He raised his finger, a slight breeze tugging at the long sleeve of his white toga-like gown, and motioned at one of the pawns on the large globe-like "chess board". The pawn shifted slightly. His gaze returned to his chessmate, draped in black and lying lazily on his cloud chair, looking as if he had not a care in the world. "HERE," he said.

HIs opponent made a swift gesture at one of the pawns. "Hmm. Decision made to make that novel a movie. He smiled. "What are your followers going to do?" He let out a laugh.

"DON'T GET TOO COCKY YET, LUCIFER." he said. "WHAT MY PEOPLE WILL DO, THEY WILL DO IN DUE TIME."

"Whatever you say." Said the devil with a smile. "It's your turn."

Equations

+ - x /

if an apple a day keeps the doctor away,
half an apple a day would...

+ - x /

Linguistically Speaking II

All my life i thought 铁 (tie3) was translated as "metal" in English.

But after watching Chinese shows on TV, i saw that names such as 铁蛋 (tie3 dan4) was translated as "iron egg" (instead of "metal egg"); and 铁沙掌 was translated as "iron sand palm" (instead of "metal sand palm"). I then came to the conclusion that:

铁(tie3)= iron

as for the generic term:

金属(jin1 shu3)= metal

钢(gang1)= steel


If you're born and bred in China, or simply are more versed than me in Chinese, you may not find this an eye-opener at all. In that case, pardon me and read some other post or blog.

Linguistically Speaking I

In Chinese, there is no such word as "yes" or "no".

If someone asks: Have you eaten? [你吃了嗎?]
You will either answer: I have eaten. [我吃了。] or I have not eaten. [我還沒吃。]

If someone asks: Do you have it? [你有沒有﹖]
You will either answer: Have. [有。] or Don't have. [沒有。]

If someone asks: Are you Singaporean? [你是新加玻人嗎﹖]
You will go: (I) am. [(我) 是。] or (I) am not. [(我)不是。]


It seems all the romance languages (languages with latin roots?) have "yes" and "no".

Italian>>
yes: si
no: no

French>>
yes: oui
no: no

(must emphasize on the "seems", my linguistic expertise not quite there yet ><)


Yet, in Japanese:
yes: hai
no: iie


It's all in the roots, i think. Even though Japanese and Chinese both have Chinese characters (kanji) in their script, Japanese, essentially, is of a different linguistic lineage from Chinese.


[correct me if i'm wrong? =)]

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you'll regret not watching it.

Bibliotucker

"READ ME! READ ME!!!" the books on my shelves (and under the bed and inside the cupboard) scream evertime i step into the room.

"Grrrrrrr," i growl. "Take a number and wait patiently, i'll attend to you one by one."

1 = The Resilience Factor: 7 Keys to Finding Your Inner Strength and Overcoming Life's Hurdles (152.32REI)
2 = Shaman King 2
3 = Shaman King 3
4 = Shaman King 4
5 = Shaman King 5
6 = Shaman King 6
7 = Shaman King 7
8 = What Color Is Your Parachute Workbook (Richard Nelson Bolles) (331.7BOL)
9 = The Handmade Book (Angela James) (q686.3JAM)
10= Your Intelligence Makeover: an easy way to learn all you need to know (Edward F. Droge, Jr.) (152.822DRO)
11= How to Draw Manga: Macromedia Flash Techniques, illustrating bishoujo characters (741.5HOW)
12= Your Magickal Name: using astrology, numerology, myth, and meaning to choose the perfect one (813.13VEG)
13= [PENDRAGON] [5] Black Water (D.J. MacHale)
14= [PENDRAGON] [6] The Rivers of Zadaa (D.J. MacHale)
15= Patently Ridiculous: Scuba-diving Dogs, Beerbrellas, Musical Toothpaste, and Other Patented Strokes (608.1ROS)
16= The Tipping Point: how little things can make a big difference (Malcolm Gladwell) (301.151GLA c.2)
17= The Bible (???.??GOD)
18= Saving Fish From Drowning (Amy Tan)
19= Hajime No Ippo: first steps in Japanese (819.956HAJ c.2)
.
.
.

Perhaps i should add a "Speed Reading For Denetics" to the top of the list.

O Namae wa...?

artist + linguist + minstrel = arinstrel
think it pretty sums up everything.
and there's no trace of it on the net, at least, none that yahoo could locate.