Tweetfest!

Just thought I'd concentrate all my microblog posts here.

I need to have more running away dreams. I am running slower and getting caught already!

Bliss is having a pair of strong arms to hold you tight.

Rain is the biggest blessing from Heaven.

Being able to shit when you should is awesome!

Why does my dad smell like a baby?

I can't get enough of idol dramas!

Escapism is my heroin.

Give me a few more episodes and I'll give a damn good review of the The Family Court.

Channel 8 dramas hasn't seen such quality.. in a while!

I am just totally itching to carry a baby.

Hi Dav

Well Dav, I think you should find out the whole story before you decide what's a shame. Thank you and your cell very much for praying for me, but I hold on to the belief that it's nothing more than a hypocritical act that he is praying for me.

I have learnt from before, during and after the trip that he is good with words, with professing his love for God and doing things that benefit only himself, then proclaiming it in God's name.

It is true that I hate him, and it's not as easy to let go as you say it is. I am praying, definitely. But don't simplify the whole matter and the hurt I've experienced.

I cannot, anymore, think that there is anyone more in his heart than he and himself. I have seen too much that even when I intentionally close my eyes, I am still blinded. And in no surprise at all, the person who gave the final blow was he himself.

You may think that post was hurting to read as a friend of his, but what brought you to this blog in the first place? You and I, who never met? Do you know what happened on my side of the computer before I finally wrote it out? Did you think it was just a post immaturely written without a blink of an eye?

But don't be mistaken I am leading an angry and hateful life. I am happy, yes. The various unhappy episodes throughout all the time I've known him have finally stopped playing in mind, no doubt in part thanks to you and your cell's prayer :)

But if you ask me now, I still have absolutely no wish of seeing and talking to him. His actions and words have overwhelmingly convinced me that he is the centre of his world, and anything else is only to raise himself higher on his own pedestal.

I have been emotionally beaten up by him, and I know better than to let myself be hurt by him once more, and somehow this is something I know will definitely happen should he start appearing in my life again.

If you think that this is not true, and I am biased, I do not deny. But I know I have not jumped to conclusions. I am just choosing to protect myself and preventing me from pulling myself back into that abyss of anguish.

We both have our sides of the story, and you might be better acquainted with his side. Don't bother sharing it with me, though. I am sick, and tired, of hearing him explain himself.

Why I'm writing this to you, simply is because my blog is my shout-out, and sometimes, that is what I need to do. I am not talking to people about this, you know. And really, your comments are just pulling me back to what I'm trying to leave behind. If you think that I'm immature, inconsiderate, conceited, and everything else bad (or in his words, sinful), then please kindly refrain from this page. It will do the both of us good.

God bless you too :)

Pink flower

Pretty pink flower, lovely pastel hue.
Daintily imprinted, invisibly dyed.
Drawn to grow upwards.
Or downwards however you see.

Wonder. What child could that have been.

The cat behind the door

From the story: The Dog Behind the Window

The girl came home one day, and the tabby cat knew everything has changed. The girl had a longing and passion in her eyes it never knew - the tabby was no longer number one.

Six years ago, the tabby remembered being lifted out of a box to a riot of pastel colours and the squeals of a girl. It remembered staring into the girl's face long and hard before timidly allowing a meow to escape from its mouth, the tightness of the hugs that slowly became reassuring, and the knowing touch of the girl as she ran her fingers down its body. Everything has changed.

It finally knew why. The door flung open one day, and an excited labrador bounded into the sitting room. The cat saw the fire in the girl's eyes, and smelt the joy that filled the air; a kind of festivity that never occupied the house. The dog was adorable alright. It made friends with the tabby, and willingly shared its bed and mistress. But the tabby knew the girl would never share her heart equally between the two.

Slowly by slowly the cat ventured out of the house, as slowly by slowly the bond between the girl and dog grew. Little by little the cat familiarised itself with the dangers beyond the house, and little by little the girl got used to not seeing the cat. Eventually the tabby left the house for the final time, taking along only memories and the collar bestowed on it by the girl.

Hunger set in with the rise of the moon, and the cat decided to scavenge an unclaimed dumpster. It licked up all that looked edible before choosing a corner for the night. In the forgotten alley of rank and dirt, the cat's breath peacefully weakened as the street lights dimmed from its open eyes. It hung on to the memories only the girl shared, and smiled its final smile as its life left into the silent night.

Of lids, bags and rings

Opened my eyes this morning pleasantly surprised time had waited for me. Finally found that dormant drive in me to do something regardless of state of mind. It has been a while. Everything has been a while. Since Beauty and the Beast was a movie, since Britney broke up with Timberlake, since I touched a camera, since I wore a school uniform. What will the next shower bring?

Imagination 2

I am deeply inspired by beautiful writing to produce something of equal standard. But my mind is blank. I have no opinions on the ongoing youth olympics, or the disastrous floods in Pakistan, or the pesky politicking of North Korea. My mind is a silent abyss of nothingness. Perhaps a quick recount of one of my various daydreams would be an easy way out.

I often try to keep my cool to the best of my abilities when someone steps on my toes. Some people do not understand, and when you move your feet away, they delightfully take a step forward to rest their shoes on yours. Latent anger often accumulates to ignite at a time well after the event and often when I am without company.

I know of one such person, together with twenty other like-minded people. And I can't help but picture a day when he gladly imposes himself on a gathering planned deliberately without him. He is not unaware of his socially jarring ways, but does so anyway to dispense healthy doses of discomfort. Group members quickly shoot each other uneasy glances as he sets out to relive unhappy memories.

He blabbers on in rhetorical questions and attempts to explain his transgressions in falsely confident ways, while everyone else tries to tell him in perfect body language that his presence was a complete nuisance. I, unsuccessfully suppress a smile as my eyes play a daydream on him.

Eventually someone notices and asks for the reason of my delight. I snap out of my trance, jump to my feet and declare to all who would hear, "I'm sorry, everybody. I am having awesome fantasies of kicking him in the balls. Please excuse me, before I really do."

I can't imagine for sure how the reaction from the rest will be, but I know with absolute certainty: blogging this scene out is one hell of a cathartic moment.

Where would you be?

If you were given a choice to be anywhere in the world today, where would you be?

Eric Khoo replied Singapore instantaneously.

Would I have chosen the same?

In all honesty I am inclined to name a temperate country.

Where everything is foreign, and family becomes a shelter.
History does not burden, while memories do not fade.
Most importantly, the weather does not frustrate.

But if Singapore were to have today's weather all year round, I do think that home is still the best place on earth.

My Dad is awesome

I truly appreciated Dad's way of parenting over the weekend. I had decided on what furniture I wanted since June courtesy of Ikea's 2010 catalogue and website. Dad always distrusted Ikea but he freely said ok when I told him of my choices.

At Ikea, I took a wrong turn and we walked a long way. Dad said nothing and just walked ahead of me (for a man sixty years old, he walks damn freaking fast). Finally I reached the bedroom section and showed him the chest of drawers I was eyeing but was supposedly out of stock, according to Ikea's hotline.

He said "Ok la, just get this."
Me: But it's out of stock.
Dad: Never mind. Just tell the salesman you want it and see what he says.
Me: Orh... Excuse me!

And I miraculously got the order!

Back at home when we were assemblying the furniture. Dad let me do most of the work with a teacher's patience, making sure that I knew how to do it more than what to do and watching my back for everything.

Then when we were fixing up the chest of drawers, I accidentally made an irreversible dent on the top. My reaction was a gawk and a remark "!!! Just like that???!!!". Dad just looked on without a change in expression. No reprimand or reproach. Just a reassuring look that says "It's ok."

Instantly recalling how mum would use a pen to tap on my head and ask "Why are you so stupid?", I felt so immensely grateful for Dad and his way of parenting.

My Dad is awesome :)

Pseudo urban myths

Do you think that if I rolled out a few statements off the top of my head assertively and authoritatively, people might actually take truth in it?

Let's try.

Computers are made to spoil, otherwise money won't roll in for the big techies.

Handphone radiation was just a concept by the pager companies. They were trying to keep competition off their backs.

Strawberries have been found to cure cancer, but scientists rejected it cos they think the solution is too simple to be true.

Japan and Germany surrendered during WWII only because they had the guaranteed promise of USA to be the no. 2 and 3 economies for the next fifty years thereafter.

Society is degrading because people in the past were hired just to think. Now people are hired just to do.

Theatre came before novels cos people learnt to speak before they learnt to read.

If you travel into a black hole faster than the speed of light, you will enter the fifth dimension.

Wireless internet has made the world more daring, but more stupid.

It is cheaper to live in Singapore than in Korea because we don't have winter.

The government will announce a marriage bonus, then a dating bonus as they start to realise the baby bonus seriously does not work.

Facebook will be bought over by Google in time to come, at a never-before-heard price that will spell the biggest acquisition that will spell the biggest failure in the IT business.

The confidential military files on wikileaks come from Google.

Google earns most of its revenue from their espionage deals. The only real business in the search engine field is Yahoo.

The Chinese-accented English is actually the most common accent on the face of the Earth.

Do you think any of these might one day become urban myths?

So much for a gracious Singapore

YOG is here. And motorists have to give way to them. This, the news showed that we have done with a video of vehicles parting in a sea of traffic.

It was an unusually moving video for a country infamous for rude and impatient drivers. Positioned at the front in a YOG bus, the footage showed how vehicles began flashing their signals one by one to clear the way for the looming bus behind. How touching.

And then, the report ended with a non-chalant statement that "All drivers who do not give way to YOG vehicles will be fined $130".

Poof! Singapore is once again a country full of unscrupulous, selfish and all things obnoxious drivers.

Is the fine absolutely necessary?

Come on, tell me. What is the penalty for not giving way to an ambulance? Or a fire engine? Or a police car? Do you know do you know? I know you might get summoned. And I know, dead sure, what the penalty is for not giving way to YOG vehicles.

The government has that much faith in us, huh. Totally makes me wanna obstruct a YOG vehicle in defiance. Ptewy.

A colour blind Singapore

For quite some time now, I have been thinking of the possibility of a colour blind Singapore. A point in time and from then onwards when I look at a fellow Singaporean and I see only a fellow Singaporean.

I fully understand why politics in Singapore had to be run along racial lines early into independence. We had no sense of nationalism, and we were at best a patchwork of cultures. We were kicked out by Malaysia, our independence was shoved down our throats and we can only take it from there trying not to look back.

But now the red dot has done it. We've proven our worth in the global economy, somehow became the leader of Southeast Asia (I mean, what would SEA do without Singapore??), and is the island four million proud Singaporeans call home.

Just to prove my point. My granddad came from China, and I would love to visit Swatow one day, but I don't see myself holding anything more than a tourist visa. And I am damn proud that we have left Malaysia to play catch up even though they were the ones who were obviously at a better advantage in the beginning. Take that Tunkus something something I forgot your names!

And this tropical island has moved on. I think our politics should too. I didn't really understand the big fuss about the double-barrelled race thing, or why MM Lee said Singapore is still not ready for a non-Chinese Prime Minister. Aren't we all Singaporeans?

I know it is difficult for us to look past our skin colours, I sometimes do that too. That Channel 8 is the most popular channel here isn't helping.

Surely there will be salient racial characteristics. The beautiful eyes of Indians and Malays, usually fair skin of the Chinese, acquiline features of Eurasians, occasional accents, and our various linguistic abilities. I wish that this is as far as it will go.

My dream for Singapore is simple. It will be that when we look at another person, we will not see the stereotypes on them and we will not be affected by what we know of the country their grandparents originate. Everyone grew up on the same soil, maybe some on reclaimed land, sing the same national anthem, recite the same pledge, and love the ndp song "Home". The guys served the same army, and the girls talked about the guys who served the same army. Why should skin colour change anything?

I wish Singapore would stop being described as a multi-racial, multi-ethnic, multi whatever country. We are a small country of 4 million citizens (so small that those 9 letters are really why you can spot us on the map), often known as the garden city, with safety so incredible you can walk out alone in the middle of the night and still be unharmed (please don't take it for granted). We are not perfect and we know it. But we are 4 million Singaporeans. Period.

Exodus

Fell ill over the weekend. Totally cowered under my blanket for the whole of Sunday. Left a lingering bitter taste in my mouth for the whole of Monday.

Went to work today. Noticed a wake at a block near my office. Noticed it was a different person from last week. This time, it was a granny. Saw that the granny had young grandchildren (her photo did look quite young anyway), and their parents had brought them to the wake.

Finally reached home after an hour. Saw another wake at my void deck. This one very brightly lit for some reason. Saw two red pieces of paper stuck on the walls next to the lift. This person had the fortune of passing away at home.

Came home, had dinner, bathed, opened my laptop and continued working. Dad came out and told me second granduncle from Tampines passed away. We'll be going to the wake tomorrow.

I am somehow reminded of the exodus. When the people of Israel finally left the wilderness and entered the promised land. I don't know why this scene enters my mind, for none of the grannies or grandpas are saved. But yet, this is what comes to mind. For some reason, I feel comforted.

Where should all the money go...

Where should all the money go...

if all we want to hear are songs nicely sung?

if all we want is just pure catharsis of our innermost desires?

if all we want is just a break from the monotony of life?

The entertainment industry is either overrated or one of the most ingenious businesses of human exploitation.

*****************Warning! Spoiler ahead*********************

A dream within a dream is not new. A dream within a dream within a dream raises heads. A dream within a dream within a dream on purpose is novel.

Inception was not a bad movie. Managed to steal my breath on numerous occasions. But I got disappointed at the end when the ending was just as I expected. Camera pans down and totem continues spinning.

In my honest opinion, that is the director's way of euphemizing the death of the male lead, and pretty much a straightforward conclusion for me. It is also the standard formula for keeping the option of a sequel open.

Inception 2 means Cobb didn't die, no Inception 2 means he stayed on in limbo. And that everyone's recognized solution of eliminating Mal wasn't the way out at all. All it did, in fact, was only to help Cobb to move on, in limbo, without her.

Too bad the movie didn't explain why people who go to sleep together will enter the same person's dream together.

I guess it wouldn't matter if stories turned out the way I expected. Disney movies do that, rom coms do that, too. But I love them all the same. I give myself two reasons.

First is the most common reason of expectations pushed too high by hearsay all over. Second is the fact that the one and only incident of disappointment came at the last few concluding seconds of the movie, thereby ending it on a low note.
Bummer.

I do remember another movie I was disappointed with, though. The Dark Knight. I know I blogged that Heath Ledger was awesome as joker. But really, I prefer the cartoon version. Heath Ledger definitely has his merits. That he died shortly after the movie no doubt aided in its publicity, and I do not want to mean any disrespect.

But anyone who has watched the Batman cartoon playing on Kids Central on Saturday mornings of that time would know what I mean; the graphics are nicer, effects are more awesome, batman car more stylish, and joker, just breathtaking.

Joker in The Dark Knight was psychotic, yes. But his portrayal came out.. too human. Joker in the cartoon was psychotic, but with an unexplained element of mystery.

Dark Knight Joker was just angry, violent and... adventurous with fashion. I mean, his whole outfit was just to hide his scars and make him stand out among others. There was no feeling of eerieness or fear from looking at him. You could even prep yourself up to fight him.

Cartoon Joker on the other hand, was calm, exceedingly intelligent, and played an excellent game of cat and mouse with Batman. His getup sends the shivers down your spine, and you just know you're in for it without seeing his face. Such was the presence of cartoon Joker.

Funny how a kids' channel can play out something darker than the movies huh.

Repeat title.

Stunned

Me: My brother was more handsome than I was pretty la.

Friend: Whoa! Then your brother must be very very handsome.

Me: Har??

Thanks babe! That was about the biggest compliment I've had in recent times :D

Happiness is awesome food for an empty stomach late at night

Woohoo! Went out for supper with a bunch of the YEPpies last night on an empty stomach. Same old people, same old nuances, silly antics, funny stories, incredible food. Yumz yumz. Partially amplified by my empty tummy but food was good anywayz hehe!

Reached home like 2 in the morning and only slept at around 3.30 am. AND THEN! Woke up at 7.10 without an alarm (I have no idea how I did it, and I am quite sure it was supernatural) to dress up and head to work, in time not to be the last intern to reach.

And I'm not dozing off yet. Whee!

Have you put God at the back of your mind yet?

This is a semi-controversial topic I've been putting off. It's purely my own thinking, and no church is involved in this.

I have God at the back of my mind. Not at the top of it. I am not constantly thinking of Bible verses, or any of the ten commandments. I do not repeatedly remind myself what I should do that my actions will be considered the Christian way, or look at others to see if God is pleased with them. Certainly, I do not look to God for every small thing in my life.

Why? Because I know He is there. I do not have to look for Him to know He is there, or pray for blessings to know that I will be blessed. I do not give in the hope that I might receive, because I know that I will receive no matter what.

God is always at the back of my mind. No matter what, He is always there.

He is my backer and assurance. The source of my confidence, and the knowledge that grace will lead me to do what is right.

I have never forgotten Him in my daily life. His awesomeness, loveliness and everything goodness are always.. at the back of my mind. And I intend to keep them there.

Let me explain. I did try to put God at the top of my mind. I ever tried repeating verses over and over in my head. And I found myself weary. I found that living a life this way was to put myself in the centre and God at the side. I was banking on myself and my own efforts to lead a Christian life and *gulp "follow the rules".

Some people make a show of their faith by praying before meals or tithing a fixed portion of their salaries. I have absolutely nothing against these. But are these people just following empty protocol?

I don't pray before meals, but I am thankful for the food, the place and the cooks throughout. I am happy everytime I eat and these thoughts don't disappear when I start or join in a conversation.

Neither do I tithe a standard amount. When it's time for offerings, I look into my wallet and give however much I want. There is no measurement for the amount and it certainly does not mean that I am any less grateful on the days I give lesser, and vice versa.

Some people might think that such thinking of mine will encourage arrogance, deceit and all other vices of Man.

I feel that when you truly understand what it means to have God as your backer, you will naturally act in blessed ways. At that time, you would also have removed the focus on yourself and placed God in the centre of your life.

Marketing 101

599 is a long TIBS bus, and sometimes with no seats by the time it reaches my stop. It charges a flat $3.80 rate, which is typically twice the amount needed to get to the CBD. The time you need to leave the house is still the same, and travelling time is almost an hour. Whyyyy will people still want to take that bus?

Because the trains are simply too crowded. And SMRT has shown its incapability time and again to solve the problem. AND they still want us to take public transport more.

But they are quite smart to spot this gap in demand and supply, and could devise a route that would not compete head-on with existing private transport offerings while still earning money.

Marketing 101.

Lessons from my mother

Mum's case this time round has taught me more than what she could ever impart in her normal course of parenting.

It's not about blind conformity, or mindlessly becoming the better person dictated by society. It's about what you want to achieve by being who you are.

I know very clearly what was my aim when I went about the deliberate personality then character change nearly three years ago, and I am glad I chose that path.

Interestingly, I see a lot of my old self in people around me, guys especially. And a lot of times I can't help but think to myself "How petty men can be. How petty I was!"

I do wonder what our generation will grow up to be like. Maybe after all, pettiness and magnanimity are void of gender, but society so decides the inherent masculinity or femininity of these personality traits. Maybe after all, some people have already seen my last sentence as the truth instead of a mere proposition.

请让我说出来吧

最终还是决定把我的心声讲出来。

我最近觉得非常的脆弱。心里留着一种莫名的悲感。我很希望有一双健壮的手紧紧地把我拥抱着，不放手。或许，我一直就存着这种愿望吧。

我依然觉得爱情应该是快快乐乐的。甜滋滋的感觉令人兴奋回味。

不停地责怪，哪算是爱。

我总觉得我像在还一个永远还不清的债。不停地付出，不停地解释。只不过想看到他一丝的微笑。

我无法自拔的栽下去，所以不可理喻地让自己盲目; 太多时候我选择沉默，更多时候我故意忽视。

后期，我的气球终于爆炸了。弄得完全不可收拾。

我讨厌他。非常讨厌他。为什么让我那么痛苦？为什么就不肯让步？一定要不停地逼问，不断地责怪，他才会安心吗？怎么一定要把我定出一个罪来，他才会满足吗？我明明就是无辜的！

他弄得连我们一滴快乐的时光我也完全回想不起。只是，一想到他的脸，甚至只是那个名字，我就会感受到一波接一波的愤怒、烦恼、无奈。


算了。反正从一开始我们的朋友都没有为我们开心。不是叫我想清楚就是无动于衷。也只能这样，对吧？算了。

我一定会活得比你更开心的！！！

Evolution of Singapore's Taxi Industry

It's Sunday! And Sunday is a typical cabbing day. Today's cab drivers, however, seem a little different.

Accented English and deep, soothing voices aside, the two cab drivers we met today turned out to have had a highly successful career just before switching to their metered cabins.

The first cab driver told us about his actuary daughter and doctor son, and a third kid who happens to be the only one among his brood who can't study. So he says, although the third is a sec 4 boy taking his Os this year at Maris Stella.

Second cab driver shared his analysis of the government's population policies with us. Very perceptively telling us that if the government needs 3-4 years for our salaries to raise by $600, it is no wonder at all that Singaporeans are so unwilling to give birth. Even the cheapest calculators could do the math, and display in all 8 digits, the ineffectiveness of the Baby Bonus.

And second cab driver had seen the world, literally. He said "Where there's an ocean, I'll be there." A couple more bantering and he revealed that he built oil rigs. And that if he was still with the company, they would be the ones taking over BP's mess. I'd assume that the company would also be doing a better job since no one could be doing worse than BP and Tony Hayward.

Then when we got off the cab, mum told me "No matter how much a junk (word used by cabby himself) Singapore is, you still have to return to your roots. That's why he would rather come back here and drive a cab than be out there building oil rigs."

Suddenly everyone around me is very insightful ah.

If I had $380 million…

Hm…

Move the family to a penthouse in Orchard. I super super heart condo life (and super super miss Eastern Lagoon bleah)! Mandatory condo amenities are swimming pool and gym.

Get two cars. One for dad and one (Volkswagen Beetle oh yeah) for me. Brother will get his when he finally gets a license.

Oh! $100 million goes for investments. $30 million will just be up for grabs by all private bankers interested in my money, and $70 million will go to mum for her annual sales figure, or figures. However she wants to allocate her cases.

$5 million into the bank for my daily expenses. $10 million for household expenses.

The rest into the church.

Hm. Since I’m flipping through the IKEA catalogue now, I might as well throw in a new work table and chair. I need something for my back oof.

Belated Bday gift

Belated post on a belated birthday gift.

But. Better late than never!

Thanks Dad!

Damn a lot of fire. Absolutely no content.

I'm going to attempt to write a really interesting, humourous, and illogical blog post. Inspired by Jane Berentson's "Miss Harper can do it". Awesome read. For chicks only.

Woke up this morning remembering that I had a huge craving for salad with vinegarette while trying to fall asleep the night before. So I clambered out of bed, washed up, and pulled open the bottom drawer of my house refrigerator.

Carrots.. And other eastern vegetables that couldn't be eaten raw.

Fine. Carrots and vinegarette then.

Splashed one teaspoon of rice vinegar and 3 teaspoon of soya sauce into a small bowl. Taste test. FAIL.

Snooped around again and found a new bottle of salsa.

30 minutes later. New bottle of salsa refuses to open. Fine. Whipped out ketchup bottle and mixed it with soya sauce-vinegar solution. Threw in the carrot sticks and started munching. Finished the carrot sticks and licked the bowl clean. Opened the fridge for a bottle of water and spotted... a half-finished jar of salsa deep in the recesses of the second shelf. FML.

Felt indignant about not eating said jar of salsa. Dug out butter crackers and helped myself to generous servings of salsa on butter crackers. Something about the lingering smell of roasted tomatoes on my fingers made me go back and opened a second pack of three butter crackers.

On hindsight, I think the salsa might have been drugged. As in, spiced with addictive drugs, drugged. Because the taste in my mouth tempted me to go back for more. So I made myself a cup of hm.. cocoa milk; milo plus milk.

And I fell into a deep sleep after that. Milo must have been drugged. Sleep-inducing drugged drugged.

Woke up feeling oh-so-stuffed. Felt my whole body supported and connected by the huge ball of my belly. I must be going through the oral stage of my menstrual cycle.

I'm trying to metamorphorise myself into a dim sum - too much meat, and too little skin - to explain my overstuffed feeling.

And that totally made me feel like going for yum cha.

Should I???

This trip to Cambodia

I guess it's time I write some reflections for the trip to Cambodia. As a photographer, a team member and in future, a mother.

I guess children are really a reflection of what we treat them as. The kids at UNACAS were given independence and role models to follow. They were also taught skills and the beauty of God's grace. It is not surprising then, that we see independent children in that orphanage who have learnt to give and love each other, and all of whom have a wish to take on responsibilities as they come of age.

In contrast, particularly with the kids at the post-trip CIP, I saw sheltered children who are often given a negative reply for things they do, and good character entails passive submission and obedience to rules set by grown ups.

Rules are still necessary, and passive submission is still needed if they were to know what are the allowable boundaries, but it gets ridiculous when rules are just there for the sake of it. Case in point, why on earth must you cross your hands to show that you've got good posture?? Isn't that BAD BODY LANGUAGE??

Wonder if that woman knows what her spark of genius is teaching her students.

One girl came up to us and told us we shouldn't play a game because too many people were falling down. Her remark brought up flashes of how I was brought up.

My parents often said "No" and "No good" to the things I do. I often rejected other peoples' advice and suggestions in turn. I became a stickler to rules, and till this day I still find remnants of my overly conservative self in my thoughts and actions. But such negating teachings have repercussions beyond a monotonous way of doing things. I found myself to be a grumpy, angry and easily provoked person.

It was probably a mixture of everything, besides parental guidance. My parents weren't spending much time with us, and when they did, it was really to check our spelling grades and sign consent forms. My brother's everything was my responsibility, and the teachers in school weren't particularly encouraging our sense of adventure.

I guess changing from PLMGPS to Rosyth was also a big factor. I remember letting my character spiral into gloominess, failing miserably in both the social and academic expectations departments. My unwillingness to accept change was probably already ingrained in my character. Just that maybe in PLMGPS the environment was friendlier, and it held the bulk of my childhood school memories.

Through this trip, my eyes were opened by how some people always had the team in mind. I remember working on the fence near the playground at UNACAS, and there was about ten minutes of time where the equipment could only allow two or three of us to work. So the rest went to sit around the swings and the benches.

I skipped over to one of us sitting on the swing and offered to push her. She rejected. So I casually asked if she didn't like it. She said it wasn't that, but because we were still working on the fence.

And then I saw how buddies took care of each other by insisting on reporting if the other is sick, but trying to hide it if they themselves were unwell. The reason was only so that they weren't the ones resting while everyone else was working hard.

And of course I saw how the first aider was always willing to dress wounds for other people, and it really inspired me, because I, as the photographer, have found myself too lazy too many times to take out the camera.

It was heartening also for me to see how well the team looked out for me. Photography is a thankless job. People expect us to do it. But really, the offers to carry my equipment, the understanding given to let me scoot off with the camera, and the countless attempts to catch me on camera simply because I am the photographer and hence seldom in photos, have overwhelmed me with thankfulness that I'm in this team. Even if the photographer wasn't me, just knowing that the team is like this makes me feel so proud of us.

Taking on photographic duties again after two years have also re-taught me lessons. I have always told others that the best photographers are not the ones who are most skilful with their equipment. All equipment can be mastered, and everyone's perspectives will be different. But what makes one photographer stand out from another is his or her ability to speak.

This trip to Cambodia has taught me how to open my mouth again. It was good that we had the pre-trip CIP and the fundraising activities before the actual trip. At the very least, it helped me get accustomed to shoving cameras in people's faces again.

And I am really thankful that the children at the pre-trip CIP and in Cambodia are not camera-shy at all. Their willingness to pose and be taken helped bridge the communication barrier far more than what I can say for the camera-shy kids at the post-trip CIP. And to be honest, I find it extremely difficult to show the post-trip CIP kids the same amount of love I had for the pre-trip CIP kids, and of course the UNACAS children. Must it be that only needy children are thankful?

I have learnt much on how a child's upbringing and home environment can shape his or her character. And the way the adult and institution treats the child will be reflected in all transparency in the kid's behavior.

This trip has taught me much. And I am glad that I have gone on this trip only now.

Let 25 people stay together

Father,

It was my prayer on our last Sunday in Cambodia that 25 of us would return together. That remains my prayer today.

Let all transgressions be forgotten. Let forgiveness flow in our hearts. Let Your hand be on the team and guide us to do what You have set us out to do.

Father it is my prayer that there will be a meeting once more with all 25 of us present, and joy and laughter only fill the air. I pray for all of us to be at peace and put You before ourselves at all times. I pray that each of us will fulfill our roles to Your contentment, and that the results will be visible to all men, believer or not.

I pray that those who have just begun to see the loveliness of Your grace continue to open their eyes and one day take the prayer that wil lbring them to salvation.

Father I pray that wherever and whenever the 25 of us meet on this earth, our final meeting place will be with the UNACAS kids and You in heaven.

Father Your will brought us together. I pray that Your Spirit will continue to keep us together.

In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

I love you.

Awesome. Second and last paper is over. Helloooooooo freedom!

In the meantime, haha darling, you still need to work hard on those textbooks. Just clench your teeth and mug through it. Your last exam will be over before you know it.

And I believe that you will achieve all that you have set out to do. I believe in you, I believe in our Lord Jesus that you will walk into the exam hall overflowing with wisdom and blessings.

Jiayou, darling!

I love you :)

Don't Work. Be Hated. Love Someone.

-----Written by Adrian Tan, author of The Teenage Textbook (1988), was the guest-of-honour at a recent NTU convocation ceremony. This was his speech to the graduating class of 2008.----

I must say thank you to the faculty and staff of the Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information for inviting me to give your convocation address. It’s a wonderful honour and a privilege for me to speak here for ten minutes without fear of contradiction, defamation or retaliation. I say this as a Singaporean and more so as a husband.

My wife is a wonderful person and perfect in every way except one. She is the editor of a magazine. She corrects people for a living. She has honed her expert skills over a quarter of a century, mostly by practising at home during conversations between her and me.

On the other hand, I am a litigator. Essentially, I spend my day telling people how wrong they are. I make my living being disagreeable.

Nevertheless, there is perfect harmony in our matrimonial home. That is because when an editor and a litigator have an argument, the one who triumphs is always the wife.

And so I want to start by giving one piece of advice to the men: when you’ve already won her heart, you don’t need to win every argument.

Marriage is considered one milestone of life. Some of you may already be married. Some of you may never be married. Some of you will be married. Some of you will enjoy the experience so much, you will be married many, many times. Good for you.

The next big milestone in your life is today: your graduation. The end of education. You’re done learning.

You’ve probably been told the big lie that “Learning is a lifelong process” and that therefore you will continue studying and taking masters’ degrees and doctorates and professorships and so on. You know the sort of people who tell you that? Teachers. Don’t you think there is some measure of conflict of interest? They are in the business of learning, after all. Where would they be without you? They need you to be repeat customers.

The good news is that they’re wrong.

The bad news is that you don’t need further education because your entire life is over. It is gone. That may come as a shock to some of you. You’re in your teens or early twenties. People may tell you that you will live to be 70, 80, 90 years old. That is your life expectancy.

I love that term: life expectancy. We all understand the term to mean the average life span of a group of people. But I’m here to talk about a bigger idea, which is what you expect from your life.

You may be very happy to know that Singapore is currently ranked as the country with the third highest life expectancy. We are behind Andorra and Japan, and tied with San Marino. It seems quite clear why people in those countries, and ours, live so long. We share one thing in common: our football teams are all hopeless. There’s very little danger of any of our citizens having their pulses raised by watching us play in the World Cup. Spectators are more likely to be lulled into a gentle and restful nap.

Singaporeans have a life expectancy of 81.8 years. Singapore men live to an average of 79.21 years, while Singapore women live more than five years longer, probably to take into account the additional time they need to spend in the bathroom.

So here you are, in your twenties, thinking that you’ll have another 40 years to go. Four decades in which to live long and prosper.

Bad news. Read the papers. There are people dropping dead when they’re 50, 40, 30 years old. Or quite possibly just after finishing their convocation. They would be very disappointed that they didn’t meet their life expectancy.

I’m here to tell you this. Forget about your life expectancy.

After all, it’s calculated based on an average. And you never, ever want to expect being average.

Revisit those expectations. You might be looking forward to working, falling in love, marrying, raising a family. You are told that, as graduates, you should expect to find a job paying so much, where your hours are so much, where your responsibilities are so much.

That is what is expected of you. And if you live up to it, it will be an awful waste.

If you expect that, you will be limiting yourself. You will be living your life according to boundaries set by average people. I have nothing against average people. But no one should aspire to be them. And you don’t need years of education by the best minds in Singapore to prepare you to be average.

LIFE'S A MESS

What you should prepare for is mess. Life’s a mess. You are not entitled to expect anything from it. Life is not fair. Everything does not balance out in the end. Life happens, and you have no control over it. Good and bad things happen to you day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. Your degree is a poor armour against fate.

Don’t expect anything. Erase all life expectancies. Just live. Your life is over as of today. At this point in time, you have grown as tall as you will ever be, you are physically the fittest you will ever be in your entire life and you are probably looking the best that you will ever look. This is as good as it gets. It is all downhill from here. Or up. No one knows.

What does this mean for you? It is good that your life is over.

Since your life is over, you are free. Let me tell you the many wonderful things that you can do when you are free.

RESIST THE TEMPTATION TO GET A JOB. INSTEAD, PLAY.

The most important is this: do not work.

Work is anything that you are compelled to do. By its very nature, it is undesirable.

Work kills. The Japanese have a term “Karoshi”, which means death from overwork. That’s the most dramatic form of how work can kill. But it can also kill you in more subtle ways. If you work, then day by day, bit by bit, your soul is chipped away, disintegrating until there’s nothing left. A rock has been ground into sand and dust.

There’s a common misconception that work is necessary. You will meet people working at miserable jobs. They tell you they are “making a living”. No, they’re not. They’re dying, frittering away their fast-extinguishing lives doing things which are, at best, meaningless and, at worst, harmful.

People will tell you that work ennobles you, that work lends you a certain dignity. Work makes you free. The slogan “Arbeit macht frei” was placed at the entrances to a number of Nazi concentration camps. Utter nonsense.

Do not waste the vast majority of your life doing something you hate so that you can spend the small remainder sliver of your life in modest comfort. You may never reach that end anyway.

Resist the temptation to get a job. Instead, play. Find something you enjoy doing. Do it. Over and over again. You will become good at it for two reasons: you like it, and you do it often. Soon, that will have value in itself.

I like arguing, and I love language. So, I became a litigator. I enjoy it and I would do it for free. If I didn’t do that, I would’ve been in some other type of work that still involved writing fiction – probably a sports journalist.

So what should you do? You will find your own niche. I don’t imagine you will need to look very hard. By this time in your life, you will have a very good idea of what you will want to do. In fact, I’ll go further and say the ideal situation would be that you will not be able to stop yourself pursuing your passions. By this time you should know what your obsessions are. If you enjoy showing off your knowledge and feeling superior, you might become a teacher.

Find that pursuit that will energise you, consume you, become an obsession. Each day, you must rise with a restless enthusiasm. If you don’t, you are working.

Most of you will end up in activities which involve communication. To those of you I have a second message: be wary of the truth. I’m not asking you to speak it, or write it, for there are times when it is dangerous or impossible to do those things. The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence.

In order to be wary of the truth, you must first know it. That requires great frankness to yourself. Never fool the person in the mirror.

BE HATED.

I have told you that your life is over, that you should not work, and that you should avoid telling the truth. I now say this to you: be hated.

It’s not as easy as it sounds. Do you know anyone who hates you? Yet every great figure who has contributed to the human race has been hated, not just by one person, but often by a great many. That hatred is so strong it has caused those great figures to be shunned, abused, murdered and in one famous instance, nailed to a cross.

One does not have to be evil to be hated. In fact, it’s often the case that one is hated precisely because one is trying to do right by one’s own convictions. It is far too easy to be liked, one merely has to be accommodating and hold no strong convictions. Then one will gravitate towards the centre and settle into the average. That cannot be your role. There are a great many bad people in the world, and if you are not offending them, you must be bad yourself. Popularity is a sure sign that you are doing something wrong.

LOVE ANOTHER HUMAN BEING.

The other side of the coin is this: fall in love.

I didn’t say “be loved”. That requires too much compromise. If one changes one’s looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone.

Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We’ve taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work – the only kind of work that I find palatable.

Loving someone has great benefits. There is admiration, learning, attraction and something which, for the want of a better word, we call happiness. In loving someone, we become inspired to better ourselves in every way. We learn the truth worthlessness of material things. We celebrate being human. Loving is good for the soul.

Loving someone is therefore very important, and it is also important to choose the right person. Despite popular culture, love doesn’t happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.

You will find, that when you have someone to love, that the face is less important than the brain, and the body is less important than the heart.

You will also find that it is no great tragedy if your love is not reciprocated. You are not doing it to be loved back. Its value is to inspire you.

Finally, you will find that there is no half-measure when it comes to loving someone. You either don’t, or you do with every cell in your body, completely and utterly, without reservation or apology. It consumes you, and you are reborn, all the better for it.

Don’t work. Avoid telling the truth. Be hated. Love someone.

Damn friggin' cool.

I love you.

Wow the first day of exams is over le! And I'm done with half of my papers hahaha. But ok la.

CONCENTRATE ON YOUR TEXTBOOKS/NOTES/WEBCASTS/WHATHAVEYOUNOT!!!

Pray. Then study study study!

I am sure that you will achieve everything that you want to, and your grades will be better than what you thought you would get.

With such a mighty God, who can do anything less than perfect through him? ;)

Jiayou jiayou!!

And, I love you :)

The most awesome mother ever

Sitting at one of the Starbucks in Suntec, trying to get some readings into my head, with this Caucasian family at the table next to mine.

Big tall daddy and two beautiful daughters. Mum buying coffee at the counter.

Elder daughter was playing with baby sister when suddenly baby sister fell with a loud thud. Dad got really angry and shouted "This is the last. time. you lift Layla!" Big girl returned with a look saying she knew she was in trouble but wasn't sure why.

Mum at the counter just turns around like everyone else in the shop then goes back to queueing for her coffee.

Dad picks baby sister up and kissed and cuddled her while she screamed her lungs out. Elder sister sat by the side stunned by the racket. "Do NOT pick Layla up." Dad repeated.

Mum collects coffee and walks over to the table, speaking in a low voice to dad in a long string of Spanish. She carries screaming baby and starts humming to her while squatting near the table so big girl could come over and sayang her baby sister.

Screaming baby immediately quietens down and dad picks big girl up and talks to her softly while mum cuddles baby to sleep. Both parents kiss the elder sister while talking to her.

I don't know what the Spanish meant but I'd like to think it was along the lines of "Don't frighten the girls. Come, let me carry Layla."

If only my parents were like that

I love you.

Hello Darling,

How have you been? How many days has it been? I miss you terribly.

That night, I told you everything because I didn't want to keep anything from you. I want you to be my boyfriend and my best friend; the first person I think of no matter what happens, the last person I'd stop loving whatever it is.

I don't know how to tell you how much you mean to me, or prove in any way how you can trust me. I can't explain very clearly why I did what I did back then - it is a memory I have chosen to seal off. Re-opened it only to let you know what I think you should know.

I am very happy that there is nothing else I am hiding from you, but sad that your heart should ache over me.

You are the only one in my eyes and I cannot emphasise that enough. No one else can take me away from you, no one else matters to me anymore.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

But I don't know how else to tell you that. I love you.

I love you.

He seems to be the first thing on my mind every morning. That night by the river, that evening with the roses, that dinner and the many days before. I can't forget his tears, his smile, his eyes, his touch, his sincerity. He has taken over me entirely.

This is the third day I can't tell him how much I love him.

I love you.

His face showed up in my dreams again.

Today is the second day I can't tell him how much I love him.


Let me just say what I want to tell him here.

Good morning, let's jiayou together for exams!

Thank you for coming into my life. I love you.

Wake up wake up! It's the afternoon already.

Stop slacking! Go study..

I love you.

I love you.

I am fast losing my mind. His face shows up in every thought I have, his words and his reassurance constantly floating into my consciousness. I have entirely lost the coolness I thought I would have.

The knife in me got pushed in deeper. I saw our lost connection clear as day.

This is only the first day I can't tell him how much I love him.

I love you

I never thought I could want so much to be with someone. I woke up smelling whiffs of his scent, feeling the touch of his absent hand, missing the tightness of his hug.

Today is the first day I can't tell him how much I love him.

I love you.

If I could do it all over again, I would still make the same choices. But I wish I knew how to ease his pain.

I am very surprised how I didn't feel much when the names came in; me with my ugly eyes, useless assistant leader, always talking nonsense, stupid bitch, cheap slut.. I don't like it. Teared when slut came out the first time. But I only wish I knew how to wipe away his tears.

The world is celebrating for me now. And I don't know how to tell them that I am on the brink of losing the love of my life.

But I'm not panicking. I'm not afraid. I don't have hopes. I don't know what will happen. But I'm not scared. I know, very clearly, that all I want is to be able to continue loving him.

Sitting there by the river, looking at the two cockroaches feeding, amazed at how I wasn't inclined to leave at all, I just felt that it didn't matter anymore. Didn't matter what our path will be from now onwards. As long as I could continue loving him.

I really dreaded asking him if he wanted a break, because I was beyond afraid he would take it. But I knew it had to come when he asked me that last question.

My past is my past is my past. I am not proud of it, but I am not ashamed of it. I have done things to betray myself, but I've come out of it, and I am the same as I was before I got attached in JC.

I really wish I can brush it off and be the carefree person I want to be. But I find myself totally paralysed with him. I am afraid when he says he's turned off, afraid when he face suddenly turns serious, afraid when he looks down and stays silent, afraid that everytime we meet it would be the last time ever.

I know this time round there is no more "what ifs!". He won't.

I have never been so hesitant in telling my friends about this person who was chasing me, or got so frustrated trying to find answers, or been so fucking indecisive whether or not to trust this person and take the leap of faith.

But his eyes convinced me.

He would be my choice if all the most eligible bachelors in the world were after me, and he would be my choice if not one single living thing gave a shit about me.

I've fallen in deep, and I can't be bothered to climb out.

I just want to continue loving him.

He gave me courage, but I broke his self-esteem.

Now I just want to know how I can help him build it back again.

Applications CLOSED. for real

Thank you, darling blog stalker

koini ochite

I've fallen too deeply in and I know it. It's a ridiculous mixture of security and apprehension. I want to do so many things and I can't wait. But what if! Again..

I wished the scars from three years ago had disappeared. I wished the fears would go away.

I was so moved when the sms came in, and felt so strongly to just follow the urge and reply. Simply. But what if.. again..

I hate you. I hate myself. I hate the coward in me.

I just want to be brave again.

Nostalgia again.

I was walking the corridors of a hall today. Smelled the same air-freshener, and the same room purifier. The location was Temasek Hall, but it brought me back straight to Sheares Hall. Sheares Hall, level 4 to be exact.

I miss walking down the corridor and saying hi to anyone's door which is opened. I miss shouting out to my neighbours my safe arrival back to my room. I miss the smells and sounds of a lazy afternoon in hall.

My dreams of running away have returned.

sixth sense

You know how sometimes in life you bump into someone you wished you never knew..? And then you try your best to put him out of your mind and hope you never see him again.

But then one day out of nowhere you suddenly get this bad premonition that he'll appear again all of a sudden and your mind races through the thousand and one possible scenarios that might happen in the unfortunate occasion that you do meet.

Thank goodness those thousand and one scenarios never happened.

Singlish

Is it any wonder that Singaporeans would have our own brand of English?

This foreign language that belongs to none of us, yet forcibly injected into our legal and education systems.

Even in China where Chinese is the language of birth, there are hundreds of dialects and variations; how can we expect Singaporeans, who learnt the language from scratch in one generation to speak and write English without a sprinkle of our background?

Singlish is what makes us Singaporean. It's our shared history, culture and unspoken words. It gives meaning to the single "Yes", and life to "I agree with you".

So why, really, clamp it down?

All that matters is that we know how to keep it back when we're talking to others who are not us right?

What is my worth?

I just received another disappointing result today. I fear.

Modules now are focused on projects, essay assignments and individual work. I can't seem to score the 90-odd percent so common in the past.

I am very afraid. Beyond MCQs, mathematics and simple short answers, am I really nothing more?

Am I letting my true worth be decided by a few grades that will last only my first job?

I know what atrocities I can do when I don't put in any effort. But I am beginning to wonder what can I do when I do put in effort.

Something is misdirected somewhere. Father, what is it?

The man in the green room

I remember when I was in upper secondary or junior college, I would notice this person sitting at his table in a room painted apple pastel green in the block opposite mine. I would be able to see him from my living room, and he would still be at the table around 1 plus.

Two years in hall and I forgot about him. Instead, I noticed if my neighbours were sleeping, and if the horns at the port were blaring tonight.

Two years later I'm back at home, working late into the night, procrastinating as usual. (I'm seriously a night person la. I should just stop pretending.)

He still sits at the table. Sometimes his kids or wife would come in and talk to him for a while. But he remains at the table. I always wonder what he is doing, or not doing.

Like me tonight, whoever has been noticing this long-haired girl at her table in her peach-coloured room. I am blogging, not writing my &$#@! essay.

ANTS

Deep in the ghettos of District 3, a small wet market slowly comes to life. Fishmongers displaying their fish and butchers preparing the meat for the day.

A stock man saunters towards a junction of stores. Store owners looked up from their chores as the man came to a stop at the centre.

In a powerful voice he pointed at each of them and commanded "ANTS!"

Heads quickly bowed and fast fingers worked in acknowledgement.

In two minutes, every person was holding out a small bag of their wares for the burly man.

Familiar glances and knowing smiles passed through their faces as he went around collecting the bags.

Community.

74 bus uncle went on strike

Uncle, WHY??

Three seconds of my life

Need to diet before CNY.

Ooh bak kwa!

Shit.

Confessions of a perfectionist

I have a confession to make. I am a perfectionist, and I have a perfect ideal of myself which, I am obviously not there yet.

I want to be a talented musician, excellent singer, agile sportsperson, versatile dancer, knowledgeable student.

I want to be smart, pretty, flexible, adept at interpersonal relations. I want to be able to learn things with a snap of the finger, have a performer's intuition, entertain others, able to accept criticisms and work on it.

I want to be really flexible, to be able to do splits, to reach high notes effortlessly, to have pitch-perfect singing, to have such nimble fingers, to have dimples, bigger boobs and perfect fair skin.

I used to blame my genetics and upbringing for not being to reach any of those. After all, it's better to have a reason then to admit I'm not able to do it.

Then one day, I suddenly saw it another way.

If I was so far from perfect by birth, how much have I been given to be able to dream these dreams today.

I am definitely not a born talent, but I dare to dream, and I dare to work for it.

So I will be.

Considerate Smokers Association Annual Gala Dinner 2010

Good evening.

Welcome to the inaugural first annual Considerate Smokers Association Annual Gala Dinner.

We have come a long way since smoking became a social activity. We have battled lung cancer activists, concerned governments, and irritating children. Smokers have also shifted mentalities from asserting their free choice rights to creating a positive impact with their necessary time-out habits.

We at the Considerate Smokers' Association are the embodiment of such positive attitude.

In the following five hours, I will outline and explain in detail, with theories from the fields of psychology, philosophy, sociology and biology, 8495 ways of smoking considerately.

The first and foremost and easiest and simplest way is to smoke downwind when you smoke at a bus stop. Let the wind carry your cigarette smoke above and away from the heads of the maddening crowd into the skies of liberation.

Next, tilt your head and exhale upwards. Let the cigarette smoke represent your dreams. Release it towards realisation with each well-drawn puff.

Third, douse your cigarette butt with water before leaving. Give it a meaningful end and let everything begin anew after that.

The world is a beautiful place with people like us the Considerate Smokers Association around. I'll continue this momentous speech with my theories and explanations after we finish the first clause.

I am your non-smoking chairperson.

Please enjoy your meal.

Tired day

My eyelids are heavy, my shoulders are aching, I am dragging my feet, my speech is slurred, I have been spouting nonsense in class the entire day and I come home to a nice warm dinner.

It's days like this I am glad I am staying at home.

I miss hall

Shortly after I came back, I dug out the old contact lists compiled from when I was still in hall.

As I started keying in entry after entry, memories of that person ran through my head.

Oh, that's my funny neighbour who couldn't wake up in the morning, and that's another neighbour who couldn't wake up at all, and that's another neighbour who was always telling me to sleep.

I remember him torturing the cockroach, and how he kept trying to chase that girl. How they would always give a listening ear, and share goodies with everyone when they had any.

What a wonderful senior, what a sweet junior.

Hrmph. I miss hall.

New phone settings should be customised by retailers

I lost my phonebook! All 390 contacts of them. Except for SWOC's I don't know why.

Stupid sync contacts stupid delete from phone stoopid ACCEPT!!

New phones should entirely be set and synchronised by retailers.

If every contact was a momento left behind, i have lost an entire cupboard of souvenirs. Especially some like my beloved JC teachers I can never get their names back into my phone book. ARGH!!!!!!

Don't think too much don't think too much don't think too much

不要想太多不要想太多不要想太多

whew

My world

Have you ever entered a state of mind where what you see is not what it is? You have a sudden urge to rush out and do something, but where you are is not where you are, what you're doing is different from what's in your eyes.

Welcome to my world.

Reality is a very irritating black hole; constantly screwing up my space-time continuum. I live in a glass sphere. Entered since I was born, and forced out of it immediately. I struggle to keep my feet in the bubble, while others keep trying to pull me out of it.

It's annoying, irritating and frustrating.

Things are beyond perfect in my beautiful globe. I am the queen, the star and life of it all. My fingers run over the piano like a river going downstream, my legs carry me faster than the wind. My wit is the envy of all that surround me. But alas, I can't resist the temptation and venture beyond my comfort zone.

I am living an out-of-this-world experience.

Random thought

I wish there's a way I can flesh out the daydreams in my head.

Need to exercise!

Repeat title.

Target. 30 x 4 sit ups per day.

Totally lost all my muscle ability. Shit.

And work on my flexibility. I'm as flexible as a block of wood. Argh.

At the ripe old age of 22, it's still possible!

My dream of becoming a star

As graduation looms, I begin to ponder the future career path I want to take. And I've decided I want to be.. a star!

Knowing me and how I'll best survive in the industry, I've decided to start out as a singer in a group. But I can't survive in an all-girls group or if it's just me and all guys (I think, though I'd pretty lavish that), so it's gonna be a mix.

Here's my career path for the next 50 years.

Start as a singer in a 3 guys 2 girls group, based in Taiwan and set to expand to Asia, and then the rest of the world.
Group can sing (including acapella), dance, break dance, rap, beat box, play instruments. (so talented right??)
“五个人感情非常好，团队永远不会拆散”
Group members are effectively bilingual.

Group dynamics is (or are?) very important to me. We must be able to play and work together like best friends, respect each other, understand each other, and even know what each other wants without having to say it out. Keyword: Chemistry.

Expand into acting in idol dramas and singing duets with other singers, sometimes guest starring in their MVs.
Endorse products as a group and as individuals, earn lots of money, eat lots of good food then get endorsed by slimming products companies :)
Guest sing in other people's concerts.
Do some hosting stints here and there.
Appear in all of the Taiwan variety shows and spike ratings for each episode.
Become media darlings for our fun and unpretentious attitude.
Build a strong reputation for our work ethics and talent (how could I leave that out?)
Love every minute of it cos I'm with four of my bestest buddies (the rest of the group)

Maybe and hopefully win awards. I even prepared a segment of my speech for Singapore's 金曲奖.
“我也要谢谢我的父母。 他们今天有来。Hi mum, hi dad, thanks for deciding to spare my life when I told you I want to be a singer. I owe today's achievements... and my life, to you."

Write lyrics for our own and other people's songs.
Compose our own songs and sometimes other people's.
Maybe choreograph dance for others sometimes.

Graduate to "legend" level with really expensive fees for appearances.
Act in movies and musicals as a hobby.

Is there anyone who wants to sign me up yet???

I need to sing in NDP 2010!!

朋友

我。非常非常的想见他。但是我怕。怕失望，怕伤心。

不知道他怎样了。应该还是跟以往一样开朗，天真。

现在的我，脑海里一直浮现着他的画面。他的声音，表情，一举一动都清清楚楚地就在我面前。

很想问一声“朋友，你最近好吗？”

A thought from the past

Flipping through my diary, I found an entry dated 6 January 2009. (It's in Chinese)

爱。简简单单的一个字，包涵着那么丰厚的意义。十个笔画的组织累积了千古万代的流传，经过了千变万化的改革才成了今天的标识。

今日的爱象征的是情爱。无时无刻的思念，不能控制的热情。新传媒体的影响导致一代接一代对爱的自私观念。唯有信服才是爱。若需牺牲就不是爱。

媒妁之言，父母之命不再有效。流行想法和辙来，不合辙散。爱在这一代的手里成了一个轻薄的游戏。从前的长相厮守，专一不变也随着爷爷奶奶们渐渐的离开。

我们到底几时才会醒悟？从此以后的幸福快乐永远只属于童话故事里。迷误地走着，抱着不实际的欲望，寻找不存在的伴侣。

这就是爱的诅咒吧。以枷锁让我们渴望自由选择，却又让我们在自由里空欢喜一场。年轻的我们好高骛远，失望了，成熟了才学会脚踏实地， 在我们心目中仍然守着童话的梦想会有几个？这个海市蜃楼值不值得我们的坚持？

现在再读读看，也不清楚我那时候是觉悟了，还是绝望了。。

My first concerto

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Snoring in D Minor

zzzzzzzz zzz zzz zzz zzzz zzzzzzz z zzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzz - z zz zzzzzzz Z z z z
zzzz zzzzzz z z z z z zz zzzzzzzzzz zzzzz
- - zzzzzzzz zz zzzzzz ZZ zzzz z
zzzZZZZzzz ZZZZzzzz Z z ZZZZZZZZZ
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Anger

The seven deadly sins have been expounded several times to teach man what is and what not. I have recently been hounded by the sin called anger.

I am absolutely seething. My hands and fingers are shaking and I cannot think straight. Why? Because my brother did not consult me before his friend used my piano. I yearn to swipe my hand throughout the span of his face and tell him straight that he better show others some respect. But I know that no matter how much I hit him, I will not be any less angry.

It is not because of the slap he gave me. It is because of his attitude. I don't know what allows me to judge or gives me the power to put him back into his place. I was just as rude and arrogant at his age. But something in me just will not tolerate him.

He has run me down a dozen times, and each time deposited a load of resentment till the scale tipped. I know it is just a phase and he'll grow out of it, but the anger that builds up I can't explain. Each time he runs me down with his arrogant despising ways, or judge others on their race, I always have an urge to lurge forward and punch him in the face.

He knows absolutely nothing and think he owns the world. Knows naught of humility and expect others to accord him respect. I HATE IT!

THE break

Mid-sem break is here!

The long-awaited, greatly anticipated, highly demanded BREAK is. finally. here. Exactly one semester ago, on this day, I landed in Korea at -7 degrees. Excited Singaporeans furiously blowing the air to see mist leave our mouths.

If only uni life was a string of exchanges. Then every semester would beckon excitement, a new way of life and a new whiff of freedom. No worries about grades, and no stress about project mates. We still learn stuff, but don't get the stress.

This semester, my break is filled up to the brim, but I don't feel as busy as I did two semesters ago. Maybe because I'm used to it, or maybe because I don't expect a week-long vacation. But I'm excited still, yes. Any reprieve from lessons is a relieve.

I'm seriously considering a blackberry. Projects are getting more intense, and the three hours spent travelling is seriously zapping up precious time. Plus the times when I'm in class and unable to respond to urgent mails. 8 hour intervals can really send group mates panicking. What. should. I. do?

A slap on the face

My brother gave me a slap today. But I wasn't sad. I only thought of how to return the slap to him. I didn't cry. He had me pinned to the ground. I didn't feel weak.

Until my dad came in and broke us up. When my brother challenged Papa to beat him, my dad just looked up at him and said "Is this the only way to correct an errant son?"

Tears rolled down my eyes.

I felt sad for my dad, I cried, still am and I felt helpless.

Earlier today we talked about his greying head and we joked about it. My father is growing old and he has a son who takes the family for granted, and a daughter who is still stuck in uni for another year and a half who still doesn't have a driving license who still hasn't got a job.

Dad felt disappointed with himself for not being able to take care of Kong Kong, he didn't tell us of Kong Kong's condition when it first got worse, he never asked if we wanted to go visit him and I know that day when I went with him to the hospital, Papa was swallowing his tears behind the mask.

Yet he has a son who said he would rather not go to the hospital at all.

At the funeral, my brother did a good job of being around and helping out. But when his friends came, he scooted off with them without whispering a word.

One of the nights he went back early to study for his test. He got money from my mother to take a cab home. At 8 pm.

He joins the family when there's a special dinner, then dumps his bag on my mother who doesn't want to carry it to go join his friends for the rest of the night. He makes the whole family go out of the way so that he can look at something only he is interested in. It is as though the family is only useful to him insofar there is food and shelter.

If we were a poor family, would he even want to acknowledge his surname is Leow?

Bye bye Kong Kong

I always feel so empty after a funeral. A funeral where I wore the white shirt and pinned the cloth on my sleeve. I just sent my grandfather off today and I feel absolutely terrible now. I'm exhausted, drained and worn out. I want to talk to someone but don't know who to turn to. The person I thought of shouldn't have to hear such things from me. Just like it was three years ago.

Kong Kong was a reserved man who really didn't like to talk. He had his own ways of loving us and did so in his quiet ways. His last days were spent in the hospital with visitors every day. For a man who was quiet, he had an amazingly large number of people attending his wake.

As Kong Kong's coffin was rolled across the viewing hall, his children and grandchildren quietly sobbed for him. At the very end when his casket was lifted up into the furnace, Uncle Roger said "Pa, bye bye. Ti kok kin hor, pa."

Now I want to say bye bye Kong Kong. See you in heaven.

I don't know how to write on from here. The English sucks, I know. I don't care.

Hands and feet

I was telling Jun Zhan about my fingers and toes post and he threw another question back at me. Why does a day have 24 hours, and why is 12 the magical number? I have absolutely no idea. I don't know why one full round is 360 degrees, and why 12 inches make one feet or 3 feet a yard.

If I were to postulate, I'll guess that 10 was the original unit, and they added two more; one for the King and one for the Queen. And 3 will easily be representation of the Holy Trinity.

I HAVE NO IDEA.

I've thought about it before and nothing came up. I don't know which came first, geometry or religion, specifically Catholicism in England.

But my big guess is..

There were two main systems in the world before everything was standardised. One will be the English system, and another will be the Arabic system - the East and West. People in the East (Arabs and Chinese) took 10 as the magic number, while people in the west counted in dozens.

When Marco Polo came along and joined the two worlds in a line of trade, the English began to discover a simpler way of doing math. And the Chinese, well, just stuck to their way of doing calculus (?)

With trade and immigration, progress and prosperity, separate systems began to merge and people began to accept math as one unified world. Until Albert Einstein skipped by and maths became physics.

What a nonsensical post this is.

Fingers and toes

Will ten still be ten if we only have eight fingers (and toes)?

I always wonder why in our math system, 10 is the magical number. It's always 123456789... 10. It's the specific point where one number becomes two, and ten more numbers later, the first number is changed. Tens brings on hundreds and hundreds bring on thousands.

My conclusion. Is that it's because humans have ten fingers and ten toes.

So what happens when we only have a total of eight fingers and eight toes?

1234567.. 10!

Let's try the math.

4 x 2 = 10
5 + 6 = 13
40% of 100 = 40 Hm. that doesn't change.
40% of 120 = 60 Ah..

I'm assuming zero stays cos people will start figuring out the concept of nothingness and craft a symbol for it (along with a religion or two).

Now I wonder how the human race will change because of it. Will 4 still be inauspicious to the Chinese? Will 15 be the new 13? Will the middle finger still be considered vulgar? No wait, we won't have a middle finger. Which finger will be the obscene one?? We can put one finger on one key and fill up an octave on the piano! And we won't have the 8 or 9 times table.

Life would be so different.

p/s I gathered humans used up all their 10 fingers to count at the very beginning so that they could count more, and make the whole process less complicated. 十全十美 might just have been born out of there since it's nice and whole when you have all ten fingers on your hand. And like, other than this, what other natural daily phenomenon occurs in tens?

My first driving lesson

Had my first driving lesson last Saturday. And here's what happened.

I got into the driver's seat after my instructor (who's really good, Mr. Lim Kwok Ing) drove us to quieter roads behind the school. (wanted to say secluded to raunch it up a bit, but since my instructor's name is here..)

After explaining to me the whole myriad of controls the driver has access to, he asked me to step lightly on the accelerator.

Which (I thought) I did. The engine revved up as it would at the start of an F1 race and the tachometer needle shot to six.

Oops.

“Aiyo, I said lightly.”

Ok ok. Second try.

Vroom. And tachometer hit three. Well, not too bad.

“Lighter.”

And I rested my foot on the pedal.

“Yeah. Just right. That’s the accelerator”

Oh. Things are going to be interesting when I sneeze while driving.

“Ok now, change to first gear.”

Did as told.

“Release the clutch.”

Instructor kept his stick on my leg to prevent me from releasing the clutch too quickly. At about biting point, the car started rolling forward.

Thought bubble from my head: OMGOMG the car is moving. HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THE CAR MOVING!!

“Good. Now you can see the car is moving. Press the accelerator and we are moving off.”

Oh.

A million left turns and one right turn later, the lesson ended.

Said goodbye to Mr. Lim and ran off towards the bus stop. Can’t wait for lesson #2!

Growing up in a Christian family

There are quite a few questions I'm often asked that I don't know how to answer. Besides "How are you?", and more recently "How's Korea?", another question is "How is it like growing up in a Christian family?".

Today I shall attempt to answer the last question.

Growing up in a Christian family, I found it easier to believe. That there is a God who looks just like us, that there is a God even with no idols, that He created a Son, the perfect Man, and He sacrificed this Man to save me when my birth was not two thousand years to come.

I found it easier to believe the men and women, anointed as pastors, who read from the book they called the Holy Bible. The power in the symbol that looked like a letter from the alphabet, the beauty of the Lamb borne of a virgin woman.

Many might sneer at my naivety, thinking of a meek little girl following without question. But hey, it makes me happy, free of worries, glad to help others and still have my bed of rose petals laid out for me. And all these, without me having to work a single sweat for it.

My life is that good because His love is that beautiful. And I find that very easy to believe. Because I was raised in a Christian family.

p/s I'm not saying that salvation is free. No, it is not. It was paid for with the life of the most perfect man who ever walked on this earth. And heartbreaking as it was, it was done willingly for God so love the world. Not that difficult to comprehend (though still awestruck by the love), cos I grew up in a Christian family.

My fight with the Z monster

10 August 2009 7 am.

I sat triumphantly on the bus home grinning smirkly at the Z monster. The battle was won. Or so I thought.

The amk central bus stop came by swiftly and suddenly it was two more stops to my house. Z Monster sneaked an attack when I wasn't aware. And then another. The bus was already approaching my stop. I quickly hopped off the bus and stuck my tongue at the Z monster. Sneak attack FAIL.

Then school started. The beginning of my lost battle. Tuesday 12 o' clock lesson. I fell asleep for 15 minutes. Wednesday 9 am lesson. I couldn't get my ass off the bed. Thursday 12 pm lesson. I pumped myself with caffeine. Friday 12 noon lesson. I ate and drank my way through class.

Z Monster! I accept your challenge! You may be powerful, but you shall not dominate me. The battle is not over and I will triumph!!

PHTTTTT!

Adventure in Singapore

Just some of my mishappenings since touching down at Changi Airport.

Thought I was lost when I saw a train direction to Joo Koon at City Hall. Where the hell is Joo Koon anyway?? Got off at Orchard when I wanted to go to the Heeren. Really got lost at Somerset. Took the wrong train at Somerset. Tried opening the front door with my matric card. Tried withdrawing $0.00.

Couldn't speak proper English for the first two days. Went to bed at 12 the first night. Woke up the next morning thinking I was in Korea. Forgot I was in Singapore. Ate at the MRT station. Wondered where all my side dishes went. Look around for a water cooler in vain.

Thought a car had no driver then realised he was on the right side. Frightened a passer-by when I screamed at a cockroach.

Wonder what the next week will bring.

Stuck

Ever wondered what it's like for a funnel which got it's end corked while more stuff are continouously being dumped into it? That's how I felt yesterday at the NUS bus stop. I wanted to shit, the last bus was coming in 15 minutes and the journey was an hour more to go.

Throughout the whole journey I sat on one thigh, crossed my legs and tried to prevent my shit from being sucked back in. I felt my fingers go cold and sweat formed across my forehead as I pretended to enjoy the traffic passing by. I saw bungalow windows, impossibly long stretches of walls, traffic lights, tree trunks, and more tree trunks.

When I got off the bus, my left butt was numb and I couldn't feel my toes. But I still had time to knock into an ACS boy who smiled back at me.

The walk from the bus stop to my house seemed impossibly long, fraught with pesky cockroaches, and quiet. Walking through the house door was a relief and seeing the toilet bowl was a joy.

The moment of release came not too soon and my body eased as I heard the rhythmic "plop"s into the water below. The funnel has been uncorked.

Anyone lost their breakfast yet? ;)

Singapore culture

One of the things I’m asked most while overseas is “What is the Singapore traditional culture?”. Our response usually entails a smile, a quiet sigh and the reply “Singapore does not have a traditional culture”.
Then we'll start to reason it out that Singapore is a very young country, our grandparents were immigrants, that we are a multi-racial, mult-religious city, that there isn't a Singapore race, and maybe pepper it with our smattering knowledge of Peranakan culture caught from The Little Nyonya.

Many of the Koreans couldn't understand that there wasn't a Singapore race either. Having only seen Singaporean Chinese, most of them thought that we were the Singaporean race. To these people from homogenous countries, the fact that there were 4 major races in a land 700 times smaller than theirs seemed.. incredible. Oh, and the fact that one out of every five residents in Singapore are foreigners.

I guess Peranakan culture could be a candidate for Singaporean traditional culture. Just that it's not unique to Singapore and most Peranakans now don't know shit about beaded shoes or Nyonya cooking.

Or maybe Singapore food, which might help explain the relatively fuller bodies of Singaporeans.

The Merlion would be out. I wouldn't really want to broadcast kiasu-ism or us being a fine city either. Though it has kept our street cleanliness at a level envied by most others.

I'm sorry folks. Please do not come to Singapore unless you are looking for great food, learn English that challenges your proficiency in English, able to not litter (it's not difficult to find rubbish bins in non-MRT stations anyway), and able to not spit. The fines here are not cheap, you know.

The things I have done after I came back

Hmz. Let's see what I've done since touching down on Saturday.

Welcomed home by a teary mother. Sighed at my loss of freedom. Saw the 4 boxes I sent home opened and rummaged through but still unpacked. Tried unpacking my 2 suitcases. Left one half-unpacked. Gave up trying to tell my mother what to do with the stuff I bought back. Caught up on some of my sleep debt. Still negotiating interest rates with the sand man.

Got woken up by thunder. Realised I was in Singapore. Installed the new messenger. Was damn happy I could use messenger. Found out how to check my results. Went through 3 different computers to check my results. Looked at dinner and sighed at being back in Singapore. Looked at dinner and sighed at being stuck at home. Realised I couldn't even go across the road to get a packet of chai boon. Watched Marley & Me on pps, watched Legally Blonde on pps, watched Transformers on pps. Realised my heart was beating really fast when I was watching transformers. Decided it was a good movie.

Put a mask on my face. Forgot about the humidity in Singapore. Started writing this blog post. Started thinking about how the rest of my 7 days will be like.

Thunder in the skies

I heard thunder for the first time in Korea. Not a clap, just a slow rumbling crescendo. The air, temperature, lighting resembled a secondary school classroom in Singapore. Then the lecturer started the lesson in his Korean accent.

I snapped out of my daze and began to concentrate. Then tried to concentrate. Before giving up unknowingly.

My mind drifted with the wind whizzing by the window, followed the burgeoning clouds into the sky and got shoved back into my head by the rumbling thunder.

I feel like I've been everywhere and nowhere. Gone through time but stayed in the present. Been everybody and nobody.

I wonder what Einstein's mind went through when he built the theory of relativity.

A trip down south

Sometimes I wonder what's the whole point of me writing these stories. But oh, what the fuck.

A bale of turtles were making their way down south for the winter. Every day, they will swim and feed together, and at night they will find somewhere safe and each will retreat into its private corner.

One night, one of the turtles befriended a small school of fish from near where he slept. The next morning, when the turtles were having their morning feed, the turtle introduced his new friends to the rest of the group.

The bale fed with the school, and they all set off. Midway, the school of fish said they were making a detour, and would meet the turtle and his friends at their planned stop for the night. The next morning the fish fed with the turtles again, and left midway through the journey again, only to share quarters with them at night again.

And again, and again, and again until one week past.

The bale of turtles started travelling slower and were getting hungry quicker while travelling. Finally one of the turtles spoke out.

"Hey, we are not having enough to eat because the fishes are always eating our food."

"Really? They always give me food to eat. You just have to spend more time with them and they'll share your food with you."

"That's not the point. It's one thing if they ate your food, and another if they ate ours. If it wasn't because it was safe to sleep with us, and we always fed in places with abundant food, I don't think they'll even bother saying hi."

"They are fine animals. Really."

"I don't care. I don't like them, they never think for us, I don't see why we should always sacrifice for them."

Cat got my tongue

Repeat title.

Someone teach me to hold a proper conversation!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

An Evening in Wonderland

And the Mad Hatter says "So why did you do that?". Hare replied "I love hats." And a wave of deafening silence swept the den.

"Why am I the Mad Hatter when you are the hat lover?"

"Because I love the hats, but you are mad about them."

And they lit the fire and pondered about their lives that past.

"Is it snowing outside?"

"No."

"So why did we light the fire?"

"Because there is a fireplace."

"Will you pass me a mushroom please?"

Hare passed Mat Hatter a mushroom and they ate in silence.

"How long has it been since we had a random girl falling into the rabbit hole?"

"Since last December I think. Do you think it could be the recession?"

"No, stupid. It's because you relocated to North Korea."

"North Korea didn't have the recession."

"They don't have girls running around either."

"Would South be better?"

"Forget it. You'd have to go over to China first before you can even get in. Let's go over to the South pole. At least there can be random penguins when the girls don't fall in."

"There is no point. I can't speak penguin. Ostrich, I can though."

"I don't like ostriches. They stare."

And they fell back into silence listening to the crackling fire polish up the wood.