Just got back from using our "Pagoda Street" comps which came down to me via the P who had another engagement on tonight.

Apparently, this musical -- set in a row of 3 shophouses in Singapore -- won quite some acclaim when it debuted in London, according to the press releases reprinted in the programme sheets. Guess the Singapore crowd is a little harder to please, particularly when the many stock characters are so familiar to us already having been done to death by other local theatrical professionals.

The Ah Beng and his "teh" (for want of a better word) girlfriend; the Indian barber and his Bollywood wife; the wise old Malay "jaga" and the high-maintenance conniving, scheming b**ch play out and milk their stereotypes to the hilt. There were times when it was possible to predict what a character would say next simply because we've heard similar cliches many times before. The only non-stereotype was the non-Chinese boy playing the role of a Chinese restaurant towkay. That felt a bit strange. In any case, it must have been very entertaining to a London crowd for whom such a cast was a novelty, but we've seen it all before.

The first act had quite a bit of narrative exposition, perhaps more than necessary. It wouldn't have hurt to let the audience figure things out for themselves through watching the characters interact with each other, though spilling all the beans by the opening number might make for more expedient storytelling.

The stage set begins as 3 distinct shop-fronts on a street. But at the opening of the second act, the Chinese restaurant frontage splits apart to reveal 2 tables, presumably representing the interior of the eatery. The problem was, the other 2 shophouse frontages remained as they were and so the audience could never be sure from that point on which location the action was taking place -- were we on the street? In the restaurant? Towkay's office? Somebody's house? We only had context to go on so we just had to ignore away bits of set that seemed incongruous to the scene. Problematic.

For a Law student, the writer-composer-lyricist-director did a reasonably credible job with his unsubtle in-your-face narrative. It's clear that the cast members were having a great time working together for a worthy cause (proceeds go to a local equestrian-based, not kidney-based charity), and, hey, more power to them for that. But still, although it had pretty good production values, 'Pagoda Street' is still essentially a school play.

Must thank JY for initiating a very pleasant evening. But first, about the college weight room: I was eager to try out the equipment today during the "staff exclusive use" time slot only to find the room locked and deserted. Should'a checked first. The entire PE Dept had gone to camp so there was no one left behind to keep the room open. And I had brought my towel along as well. :( Lena promised it'll be open again next week, so I'll be back.

Anyway, having an unexpectedly free evening, I accepted JY's invitation through Amy to join them at Party World KTV. So June and I dropped in after dinner for a little Social time. Nice to see that this KTV joint keeps its stuff up-to-date (i.e., within the last 3 years or so) with songs from the likes of Good Charlotte, Dido and Natalie Imbruglia -- I got fed up with the selection from the male singers so I didn't mind attempting some women's songs instead even if the subject matter made me sound um... strange, "You couldn't be that man I adore..."

Vince joined us later in the session though too late to do any of his own singing. But we did have supper (dinner for Amy and Vince) at the nearby Dome. Split a generously cheezy, mushroomy Black Forest Ham pizza amongst the 4 (JY went home) of us, and discussed our plans for the NDay hols and some exposition of my anti-social tendencies.

Social: High
Fun: High
Hunger: Full
Sleep: Very Low
Hygiene: Low (hot day, and I haven't had a shower yet!)
Bladder: Full (too much earl grey + water + coke)

'scuse me. Have to take care of the last 3 items right now...

Had some fun posing for college annual shots with my CT. The shot featured here I stole from them. It's a little low-rez but good enough to see what we look like.

Each CT will get a 1-page feature in the college annual including a collage of 5 small group shots rather than a single large group photo. The rationale there is so that we won't have to strain tired old eyes as we search for signs of our glorious past in these dusty tomes of forgotten memories sometime in the future when we're old and grey. This shot then is quite precious as it's one of the few in which we're all in it together.

In other news, my patience has finally paid off! After 6 years of anticipating with bated breath, the pronouncement from on-high is that the weight-training room is operational. In fact, I had happened to walk past the room a couple of days ago and noticed that the once empty room is now full of brand new complicated-looking devices of muscular torment, begging to be used. Price of entry: have a towel handy at all times to wipe your own sweat off the benches and other equipment as and when necessary.

Staff get exclusive use of the facility every Friday from 1700-1900. That will be yet another reason for us to stay late on campus. Must go check it out tomorrow. Ooh, the possibilities...!

It's one of those days where I need to be in 3 places at the same time. Everything happens on a Wednesday afternoon and it's a matter of trust for me that those who go in my place will make things happen the way they are supposed to.

First, I should be with the tour group to Tekong, but I couldn't so I sent 'Statesman' instead. Yesterday, I was quite proud of myself for experimenting with non-conscription and getting some reasonable results from it. A whole bus-load of sign-ups to me was an encouraging indication that the new LJ scheme was going well. Yet today, I want to do unspeakable things to the 10-12 kids who stood me up. Instead of a full busload, only just more than half showed up by departure time, the rest having conveniently "changed their minds."

It's one thing to be "voluntary," I didn't put a gun to anyone's head to sign up; but once a name's on the sign up sheet it's a committment to see the event through; it's undertaking of personal responsibility, and yet the kids simply renege on their agreement, taking their dishonour so lightly. Their dishonour? What about MINE? I gave my word that I would send a busload (already far short of my original allocation) but because of their convenience I could in reality send far less than I promised. That makes me a liar, and I'm thoroughly pissed about that.

The self-motivated LJ depends on the honour system in order to work. I'm going to have to instill some honour in the kids because it's clear to me that they damn well need it. Well, there is a procedure for this kind of thing. Let's get the wheels turning...

Place #2: I should be with the Drama kids as they rehearse for next week's N Day celebrations. I should be with them as they sort out who is going to be in the Celebrate Drama event this weekend and what they are going to do for it. I should be with them as they rehearse for their MU debut in the coming weeks. But because I have so many other things on my plate, Fran, club pres., has to take care of these things for me. So because of my absence from Drama Club these last couple of weeks, I'm out of touch with things and I'm insecure and confused, especially since Tina needs the participants' details immediately and I'm like... wth's going on?

Where was I this afternoon? Having my last class at SMU for the New Subject. It was basically a summary of what we had covered over the last 3 weeks in building a toolbox of logic for ourselves and our kids next year. Mark suggested conducting formal debate sessions and how to minimize free-loaders in group-based term-papers and presentations. He asked us how we might go about teaching logic and critical thinking now we've been through this course and for me, I'm going to have to teach myself the stuff first -- practice using the tools myself first before I inflict them upon my students next year. The logic tools are new, weird and unfamiliar to me and I'm going to be pretty ham-fisted with them, so, NBS, watch out!

I also noticed during tea-break that I still am having major problems socializing with the other course participants. I haven't got the urge to talk to anybody, and I suppose I've got the kind of face that nobody wants to talk to anyway. If NBS isn't conversing with me, my feet want to take over and explore the rest of campus until break is over. Or I just get very busy with my snacks or coffee and ignore everybody else. I thought I'd outgrown this behaviour already but I guess not, huh? I wonder if that's a symptom of autism?

I have initiated a new approach to JC Learning Journeys. Instead of tutors selecting tours of local social institutions and infrastructure for their students from an 'approved' list, I've freed up the system so that students select their own tours and activities, inform their tutors of their intentions and it's left to me to make the bookings and other administrative details on their behalf. God help me, what have I done? I'm now wearing yet another hat -- travel agent -- and I thought I was busy enough as it was.

What's invigorating about this development is that the students are getting excited about the possibilities of what they can do and learn and a few inquiries have started trickling in already. It'll be interesting to see how this idea will sustain itself; whether after the initial euphoria the usual apathy and cynicism sinks back into the student body and we will have to resort to conscription again; or if the students really take their independence and responsibility seriously and properly plan an activity the whole civics group will enjoy and find meaningful. We'll see, won't we?

Most likely, mass activities will become harder and harder to organize. Tomorrow's JC1 visit to Tekong, for example. I initially offered it to the first 6 civics groups to sign up, but none bit. So I threw it open to any individual or small group within the JC1 student population to just sign up if interested, no compulsion. Result: about 40 signed up, all of their own volition, and though the number is only a third of the spaces allocated to us, I decided against conscription to make up the remaining numbers or risk losing credibility as the revolutionary who freed up LJs on campus (and gave himself a new job in the process), ahem.

And now the evening news:
We congratulate Amy on the purchase of her fiery red Maxim bowling ball, bright orange polish cloth, deep blue bowling shoes and jet black carrier bag. Now the team is complete, everyone having made a financial commitment to improving our game. She has to get used to the increased weight of her personal ball now -- an 11-pounder, same weight as mine -- it's throwing her off a bit, but by the end of our game and after a couple of adjustments to the thumbhole, she seemed to be getting the hang of the swing and posted a decent pinfall. Amy, welcome to a new level of competition, no, make that competitiveness. Next target... how about NBS?

Momo caught in the act. Naughty girl! 

Q-tip wears a new fashion accessory, just bought at the SKC Dog Show at the Expo today. 

As I look back on the last week, I notice that from my first bad joke of last Sunday the whole week has been dark and negative. The end of the week was an unprecedented culmination of increasingly worse to terrible news until Saturday night when I decided to just crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and just sleep. It was only 2300, far from my usual beddy-byes time but I couldn't take much more. Even the Big Dumb Guy had the fates conspire against him -- I had completed "Half-Blood" by then so that was also last week's news to me.

As we begin a new week, I sincerely hope the cloud has passed and summer is bright and full of promise again, as it should be. As far as I know, there's only 1 major crisis to forsee disaster in but, hey, that's par for the course for me.

Perhaps I began this week on the right foot. Morning service brought in a special guest, Mrs E Choy. She spoke to us about the dark and terrible days she had to endure with the "Secret Police" during WW2. As I understand from her story, they really worked her over with some nasty torments, from beatings to exerting excruciating pressure on her knees to electrical current (in the presence of her beloved spouse who was likewise tortured in front of her) in a vain attempt to extract information which the couple never had in the first place. But what was probably worse for her was her simply being locked in a cell with 15 other prisoners day and night for 193 days not being allowed to move or communicate with anyone. The boredom would have driven anyone completely nuts; I know I can't sit still for long myself.

Ok, that doesn't sound very positive, but the fact is, she survived and is still hale and hearty and sound of mind till today, a ripe old 95 years of age. And what preserved her during those dark days and beyond was her simple, dogged faith in God; even to the extent of freely granting forgiveness to her torturers when they faced the War Crimes Tribunal at the war's end. She blamed the war, not the men themselves for what happened to her. A most positive, possibly most healthy outlook, I suppose, though not everyone can be that strong.

We begin Sunday with a note of hope, so here's looking to a much brighter week ahead. May it be so for everyone!

Grim tidings indeed, as anticipated from the news we received last night. College started the day with one member short. One of our students had passed away and that fact alone is already hard to deal with.

At 16, that just isn't the time to go. What does anyone know about life at 60, let alone 16? It's all potential lost: the sights that will never be seen, the journeys that will never be taken, the love never to be found... and this 'never' is the extreme absolute that we try our hardest to deny whilst we live and write GP essays.

I didn't know her personally, she was just another face in the crowd to me. But people I know knew her and their grief was mine as well. As with Mim, and John, another space in our hearts has hollowed out with the passing of this little girl. And perhaps it's harder because she was a student. I may not have known her, but still, the pain of her loss is nonetheless tangible to me because she was one of us.

Condolences and prayers to her family and friends; those who loved her.

Last chance to vote for our college blogsite. As it is, we're just barely in the running for the Grand Finals numbering 5th in position in the latest rankings. Our blog may be disorganized and may lack a clear focus, but it has content that deserves an eyeball at least. StrangeFae's mad rants lack polish and subtlety but her enthusiasm in letting fly on her topic du jour is quite amusing. Anyway, I think so.

Today's the last day to vote so if you are feeling charitable to our cause and like our schtik, voting procedure is as follows:

Grab your favourite cell phone and follow the instructions here. Thanks for your support!

I must be more competitive than I thought. I'm mad with myself for achieving my competition 3-game average of 140 pinfalls today. To maintain one's personal achievement levels in a competition should be considered a satisfactory performance, but at this level this kind of average simply cannot make it. It's doubly annoying as I've been able to turn in much better scores during practice but when it really counts I go back to "normal" again. And today, I was struggling to maintain too. Bad stuff.

Talked with Amy and we agreed that this week is full of negative energy. Just look at my last few entries, scripted right out of blahdom. Worse things are afoot, but I'm not exactly sure what's happening. Until I get a better handle on things, we're all just going to have to wait in suspense.

Meantime, here are a couple of useful quotes from The Island:
"Just because you want to eat the burger doesn't mean you want to meet the cow," and "Humans will do anything to survive" and the not-so-subtle hint that Microsoft owns the world. Hmm... pretty much sums up the whole movie. Don't get me wrong, I liked the concept, the action and the eye candy (Scarlett Johansson... yummy) but the was just this one thing that I couldn't buy. It's bad for human beings who want to live to kill clones for their spare parts, but it's ok for clones who want to live to kill human beings who are after them, at least the movie biases the audience that way. Shouldn't we look at killing as killing? The double standard seems unfair, but hey, it's just a movie, right?

I'm usually immune to the effects of caffeine but I may have overdone it today. 2 cups of machine-brew for breakfast, 1 hand-poured teh tarik at lunch (the mutton byriani was fabulous at this run-down looking coffee-shop on Hill Street, BTW) and immediately followed by a large brewed Nescafe 'cos NBS and I were early for class and wanted to kill time without wandering aimlessly downtown like lost souls. Result: a small headache while Mark continued lecturing on logic and argument construction.

Later, I discovered caffeine crash: a state of extreme drowsiness once the stay-awake effect has worn off. zzz...

I suppose there will be days when one is too tired, too lethargic to do any more than just curl up in bed and plough through a thick book. Days like this remind us that life isn't a laugh-a-minute and that rest is just as meaningful as activity. Considering what's coming up later this week, a day like this is a day to be grateful for.

Bowled at CSC now that the lanes have reopened again. Don't see much improvement, but anyway... Amy confirmed her 100+ average against all of us, though it must be noted that Anthony was without his regular ball and shoes today. She's throwing good first balls, and it's time to work on her spares. Ha ha. Easier said than done. We're not that great at converting spares, ourselves. Guys, it's time to lower Amy's handicap.

So after yesterday's insanity and today's training I'm physically tired. Various muscles aching all over the place. A spot on my left foot starting to hurt too. Comes and goes but this time it's making it's presence felt a bit more intensely. Tempted to get it x-rayed to see what's going on under the skin. No more training for me till the big game on Thursday. Must give myself time to recover.

Meantime, there's a half-blood prince awaiting my attention. Let's see how far I get this evening.

"He floats through the air with the greatest of ease
This mad inline skater; fear puts his mind in deep freeze.
Taking off feet first, he lands with a thud
Bruised, battered and bloody, his face in the mud"
Xmac (1965-? well, not for much longer if this keeps up)

If ever I thought I knew anything about inline skating, today proved to be a most humbling experience. Fine, I can roll forwards, sometimes faster, sometimes slower. I can stop on a dime with a spin and a flourish. But only on flat straight pathways like those on ECP.

Sembawang Park proved to be an unforgiving tutor with its seemingly gently rolling slopes and generally clear pathways. Then you have this mad geezer on ankle wheels thinking, "hey, no prob, I've done this before."

People know. They know it the instant they see someone on wobbly wheels. They clear the path. They grab their children, tricycles, strollers and their maids and head for high ground. Then at a safe distance, their eyes fix on the fireball careening down and through the location they had just vacated seconds ago. Seconds later, said fireball makes its inevitable impact with Planet Earth, lying there in a crumpled heap while the crater created on collision smokes silently around him.

He laughs as he picks himself up again, though internally he'd rather say, "F@*K!!!" There are children present after all.

He gets up, appraises the new damage to his person and rolls on, hoping to learn what to do the next time, but he never learns.

This event repeats itself several times in the space of maybe 20 minutes. Then finally, after muscles start cramping, lacerations start to sting and a sudden rainstorm washes the blood off the footpaths, he decides it's probably best to go home, defeated.

First off, I'm supremely grateful for the armoured protection I wore, especially my combination gloves-wrist guard. I could have had shattered my forearm on my first fall if the plastic guard hadn't been there to take the shock. I wasn't wearing elbow guards so my elbows are nicely scraped now. Hao lian, lah.

But my last fall to Earth must have been my most spectacular. I flew down a slope knowing I had to brake but muscles refused to respond to mental commands. At the bottom of the path before it slightly slopes up again was a stone bench, and I suddenly imagined the consequences of crashing into it at the speed I was going. The fear made me totally lose control and my legs went completely out from under me sending me into a double-drop kick without a target to break my fall -- except for the stone park bench. In mid-air I mentally prepared myself for impact and somehow or other landed on my butt on the footpath in front of the bench, missing it. I was afraid that I could still spin toward it but I had come to a complete stop (my guardian angel works overtime for me *silent thanks).

Maybe I should just stick to the safe but crowded pathways of ECP. Or take inline lessons. Hmmm...

Another late entry. Drama Club did its thing at the Library @ Esplanade Open Mic show along with items presented by another set of performing groups. I guess I've been influenced too much by Tina, but I really couldn't stomach what the other groups were doing. The first group presented a literary thesis on Lee's 'Mockingbird' -- someone's interpretation of the text rather than the text itself. It was didactic, pedantic even, it was plodding, anal and literal, and it was performed by a bunch of 10 year-olds whose parents must really have been proud. I suppose I should be more generous and appreciative of the effort, but I guess it just wasn't my thing.

The other group, thankfully, focused more on the text of 'Dog in the Night-Time' but it still subscribed to the notion that emoting=shouting. Drove me up the wall, particularly since the performance space is so intimate, the audience capacity so small and the amplification so loud. Decided to leave before the end to preserve my auditory senses for another few years.

Our piece was merciful to the audience in that it was just a short reading -- 10 minutes rather than the 30 we were allocated. Some texts are just not written to be read aloud, as Mel quickly discovered during rehearsals. In 'Tangerine' the atmosphere and location are way more interesting than the story of Nick and his standing around and just looking at things. So I decided to make it a movement piece in which the camera lens focused on the background and left the foreground action (of which there was actually very little anyway) blurry. Our kids could have been sharper and more decisive with their movement details, but they delivered and the audience sometimes got our gags, which is gratifying.

Maybe that's the problem with the other groups, they took things and themselves too seriously. But then they could always say that we didn't take things seriously enough too. Which is the more preferable? Me, I go for enjoyment. We could have used a few more rehearsals to polish, but I think what we have is a script that's worth preserving and recreating for another audience at another time. Open Rehearsal Performance in Sept? Must ask Tina.

Amy and Yee, thanks for dropping by to give us your support! Your timing was absolutely spot-on!

Finally got to catch the Fantastic Four last night. So backdated I am with the movie scene.

I worried about how the presentation would turn out. I have been a long-time fan of the foursome and I felt there was no way any movie could capture the grand-scale adventures that the first family of superheroes always found themselves in.

Much credit to the director who knew the limits of his medium and focused his movie on the strongest feature of the four: family and friendship. Sure, the look was cheesy (self-referred to as "Armani meets astronaut," by the Torch himself) and the CGI no great shakes -- obviously cartoony and without any pretentions towards making them 'realistic' -- but it's the simplest, most ordinary of human relationships that hit us the hardest.

The frustration of the Invisible Girl, who can't make the man she loves see her the way she sees him. The frustration of the Torch with his enormous ego caged in by his own unadmitted sense of responsibility to his loved ones. The frustration of Mr Fantastic whose mind is a tyrannical ruler over his heart as far as the woman he loves is concerned, along with the guilt over the fate of his best friend. And the pathos of the perennially unfortunate member of the group, the Thing, whom Mike Chicklis plays with such sadness in his eyes that his sense of rejection and outcastness is almost palpable as he reaches down for his wife's cast off wedding ring and can't pick it up because his fingers have turned into bricks.

Doom, however, plays an odd role in this script. There was really no call to empower him with special 'powers.' In the comic books, he is already disturbing enough as a seriously twisted human being whose brilliance of mind makes him more than a match for the four combined. Luck is seldom on his side, though. Guess there wouldn't have been enough movie time to explore Doom's history properly so it just got conveniently subsumed under the same plotline as his nemeses'. That was disappointing.

One thing I had to question is the crowd's reaction to the chaos on the Brooklyn Bridge. There was so much damage, so many lives put at risk, not by any supervillain attack but just a chain of events caused inadvertently by the Thing. Yet when the danger passed, everyone cheered the four and they became celebrities. If it was the X-men, the story would have been different. Perhaps it's this fundamental plot thread following the four that it's impossible to make a dark Fantastic Four movie to compare with our favourite leather-clad mutants. Fortune favours the four.

The movie isn't just about a bunch of superheroes but about the coming together of a family, dysfunctional as they may be, who fight amongst themselves as often as they fight their enemies. In comicdom, the oft spoken tagline of the Fantastic Four reads, "They were the first, and they were the best." I wouldn't say that of this movie, but an open mind did bring both giggles and tears. It was a fun ride.

Flitting from flower to flower in its endless search for precious nectar, a little butterfly landed on my shoulder. It gently fanned my face with its wings while it rested there, and I appreciated its trust. I made no sudden move so it would not take fright and fly away too soon. But after a time, it did fly off. It had other flowers to visit, other places to beautify.

A moment to be treasured.

Boss Lady dropped in on me in class today to observe me at work. A bit nervous, but I muddled my way though thanks to the cooperation of the kids.

Yay! Finally collected the Potter book from the Post Office during a break between appointments in the afternoon. It won't be to my benefit, though. I'm still too busy to read it and I will still have to wait until June is ready to relinquish it back into my possession now that she has claimed first dibs.

Meantime, only Amy, June and I bowled tonight. Amy confirmed her improved standings with a 5-game average of 111, while I'm still at an unimpressive 145. June needs to practice throwing the ball more.

Oh... and despite numerous reminders, I have neglected my homework for tomorrow's SMU course. NBS will put me on her hit list since all the reminders came from her. Maybe I can squeeze in some time before classes tomorrow?

Another cycle has passed and a new one begins. Farewell to the Drama Club of '05, and welcome to the Drama Club of '06. Today the new exco got elected, into whose hands the reins of leadership has passed on. Congrats to Fran, Nyt and Des, the new face the Club will wear in the coming year.

The new Club is different from the batches that came before it. The members comprise people who are really interested in theatre, who want to experience the life of performance without the added lure of CCA points scoring -- a system that is now dead and long may it stay that way. The Club membership is small, but everyone is a hardworking, committed unit for whom the performance is more important than ego. This is not to run down the alumni who have delivered fabulously for us in previous years, but rather to voice my hopes that boundaries can be pushed further back in the coming year thanks to a group that has shown its ability right from the start that it can balance improv, fun and serious work for the sake of a good production.

Wish I could be as pleased with bowling training tonight. Personal average down to a level I haven't seen for a while. Still managed to beat Vince overall, but it wasn't the trashing I promised him yesterday. My 3rd game was so dire I lost to Amy who has improved her game considerably. Instead of a random game breaking the 100 mark, she posted a consistent above 100 average tonight over 5 games. If we had given her her usual 50-pin handicap, she would have been the one doing the trashing, leaving our fragile male egos shattered, scattered and trampled into the dust on the ground. Not a good night.

Game must pick up in tomorrow's practice. Tournament is next week, so better buck up!

Irritated. Frustrated. It's an emotional state that cannot adequately be expressed in words. It's something like having your own copy of the latest Potter book but it's locked up at the Post Office 'cos you're not free to collect it; or having a spanking new pair of inlines waiting for you to try them out on the weekend, but it's only Tuesday.

Things tantalizing within reach, but just out of touch.

The last weekend and a couple of other incidents before, I remembered the joy of movement powered by a once healthy body. The sweat, the huffy breath, the adrenaline. Now with muscles atrophying and joints stiffening it's a struggle to do all that stuff with the ease, confidence and form that 10 or so years ago I might have taken for granted.

I can still pretend that my 4th decade isn't rapidly charging towards me like a steer with a poker stuffed up its butt; that my life hadn't really began 10-15 years later than other normal people's, but the body doesn't lie. And sadly it doesn't forget either.

And it doesn't help either when your contemporaries from secondary school (class of '81) have finally tracked you down and started talk about a possible 25th anniversary reunion.

Can I stay in denial, just for another month? Please?

A really wet afternoon, but at least I can say that I have had a clean car for almost 24 hours before it rained. This event is a near world record and is worth noting on this page. The wet weather had me scrambling, umbrella in hand, to join Anthony and Vince at Acacia for lunch. I had to negotiate the numerous ankle-deep puddles in Bishan Park, trying as best as I could to keep my trainers dry. I hate wet shoes.

It's sad that few people eat at Acacia. This afternoon we occupied one table and had the full attention of the lone wait staff to ourselves. Just because the food tends to be too salty doesn't mean there's a need to have a general boycott of the place. You have a mouth, so just ask for less salt. I'm sure the chef will oblige.

Had to rush lunch as I was on duty at YJ, and I arrived just shy of my appointed briefing time. Anyway, I got caught up pretty quickly to what was going on, so that was ok. Listening Comprehension Exam. In Chinese. The exam text gets broadcast over the radio on the station playing Classical music, Symphony 92.4FM.

I guess there's a reason to use a serious radio channel for a serious exam, but the kids are seated at their venue just after lunch, half-an-hour before the paper commences, they're confined to their seats and maintain communication silence throughout. To hit their MTV-tuned minds with such "soothing music [qtd. from invigilators' instruction sheet]" and watch them slowly nod off to lala-land one-by-one seems like an inhumane thing to do. After all, shouldn't kids have the right to take their exam with a fresh, alert mind instead?

Maybe we should hit them with a dose of Good Charlotte or Green Day or Simple Plan instead so they'll stay awake and bopping for that interminably long lag period, and maybe it'll focus their minds on issues of social responsibility too while we're at it. Too bad it's not me making policy around here.

Lost my chance to collect my copy of the new Potter book again. I had it delivered to my Post Office instead of my home and for 2 days running I've been arriving a half-hour after closing time. That's kind'a frustrating. Mei says it's not worth my $40, but I've already paid for it so I'll have to enjoy it now like it or not. But first, let me get my hands on my copy!

Our Neverland Foursome met again tonight to watch War of the Worlds, which we had intended to watch since KL but never got around to doing so. It was a mad rush to catch the 7pm at Toa Payoh, at least for Vince and Amy. Let's not time it like that again, seems to be the consensus after today.

By our current set of expectations from a big-budget sci-fi blockbuster, the plotline from this Victorian age proto-sci-fi tale is ludicrously disappointing, and Spielberg's cutsey alien designs don't help much either in raising tension. But then again, as in similar stories, it's not the aliens we're meant to fear, but rather people in a crisis who simply lose their heads and become nasty, irrational, selfish and desperate, whatever they may have been before the crisis hits.

Other observations from WotW:
The New Yorkers standing around gawking as the first tripod rises from the ground parallels the behaviour of the beachgoers before the Tsunami hit.
The aliens are damn inefficient as exterminators -- those 2 beam weapons each tripod is equipped with will take forever to kill people off one at a time.
After an EMP attack, stalled cars get conveniently pushed to the side of the road clearing the way for other working vehicles.
In case you're wondering why Grandma's house (heck, her neighbourhood!) isn't affected by the goings-on in the world, it's because we need to look at the mythological resonances of 'Gramdma's house' rather then the literal. Grandma's house is the ultimate safe-haven. It promises reunion, conflict resolution, home and acceptance, the end of the journey, and so it is for our protagonist and his own. Else, how will we know when the movies over and we can go home... right?

Dropped in on Mike and Angela for breakfast and discovered that I am now an independently published 'auteur,' ahem, ahem. Mike Googled his kiosk and found my review from a couple of weeks back and he printed it out for his pin-up board. Thanks for the mutual publicity! *waves at Mike and Angela

Later in the afternoon, I acted on a classified ad I found in yesterday's papers -- inline skates (Nike, Rollerblade) 50-70% sale. The establishment was a 'blading school and it was packed so full of customers the staff was simply overwhelmed, swamped and frazzled. Customers helped themselves as best they could and kept replacing the sample models in the wrong display locations so that after a while it was impossible to tell which price was meant for which model. Chaos rulez!

Apparently, the mega discount applied to members of the school while the rest of us had to settle for a lesser discount. Fine. I'm in the market for a pair, anyway. I decided on the Rollerblade Aero 7 ALU

and though June thought it was below $150 (must have been put together with the wrong price tag) it actually cost slightly over $200, probably due to the aluminum frame as opposed to the cheaper plastic type. We also purchased 2 sets of protective gear to replace the old, tatty ones we once had.

And now, it's time to re-prioritize physical fitness back into my life!

"He floats through the air with the greatest of ease
The daring young man on the flying trapeze"
George Leybourne (1882-1884)

Another day of insane derring-do. Hong Choo's next on the hitch list so we took him to Sentosa for trapeze lessons before his big day.

It's like a Club Med set-up with suspended safety nets, but only one flying bar so solo "performances" only. There is a practice bar on which we all have to try out the tucking in of our legs into a rotation around the shoulders and finishing with a full body suspension hanging from the knees, hands free. After successfully mastering this maneuver (within tolerable parameters) we're ready for the real thing.

We climb to a narrow platform about 2 storeys high, safety belt securely around the waist. On the belt are 2 D-rings which the 2 ends of the safety rope clip onto. On the platform, the instructor talks us through the take-off procedure. He secures us by grabbing the back of the safety belt while we reach for the flying bar first with one hand then the other.

Teetering on the edge of the platform, we "step-off" while the instructor simultaneously lets go of the safety belt and we're feeling the rush of air against our faces in a moment of exhilarating freedom. Before we lose momentum, we have to think through the hang-by-the-knees maneuver and actually force our limbs to move accordingly, though poor timing, adrenaline, muscle fatigue and acrophobia make it even harder to execute than when we were still on the ground.

We learned 3 different kinds of dismounts so we went up 3 times each to try out each one. The first was a standard butt-first land-in-a-sitting-position, though most people still end up landing face-first instead. The second is a back-flip dismount: on the swing, feet together, kick forward once, kick backwards, tuck knees into chest and release bar. In theory, momentum spins the body 360° legs over head then we land again in a sitting position. In theory, anyway. Last, the flying dismount in which we remain suspended from the knees and at the apex of the "away" swing, release the knees and adopt a Superman flying position, belly landing.

Most of us -- especially the tourist kids who had joined our group -- managed to perform reasonably well. One nervous teenager landed head-first onto the safety net and bounced into an awkward somersault, which looked quite hilarious though it was probably embarrassing for her.

Group performance review: Martin: self-declared non-participant. Anthony: injured in training, sidelined. Hong Choo: set good example. Weng: credible. Luanne: lost momentum early. Ed: letting go issues. Me: form over substance.

The guys went up North for a seafood dinner. I took family (June & 2 dogs) home and gave Ed a lift back on the way. Muscles starting to hurt. Hmm... wonder who's next on the list to get married?

It's late, but now I can't get this thought out of my head. With regard to the furore over the case of Durai poTTer and the Fund of Kidneys -- and though I rarely do this -- I offer a little biblical insight that sort of settles it for me:

"Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the corn." Deuteronomy 25:4

Whatever follows from now, I hope it won't contravene this fundamental principle of employer-employee relations.

Nevertheless, easy for me to say, since I haven't contributed anything to the fund recently.

It's fun enlightening kids and seeing them respond with genuine comprehension. For some inexplicable reason, every project group seems bent on conducting a survey as part of their data collection process. Invariably, their survey mainly seeks info regarding the public approval of their project. It's like they want to prove to their supervisor that despite the advice given so far, as long as the public approves of their project, all will be well with the world.

What is the objective of the project? To create/devise/design/... whatever thing. Any idea as of now how to go about delivering what was promised? Umm... no... OK, how long will the survey process take from designing the questionnaire to collecting data to data analysis? 2 weeks? And so the survey results will most likely tell you what? Er... that people will like our project? And after 2 solid weeks of backbreaking work, will this information take you a few steps closer to learning how to make your project work? Er... no, just that people will like it or not... ooooohhh!

Oh well, a whole afternoon of that so it was most excellent when Anthony suggested we go chill at Settler's again. But parking there is mad. I drove around the block quite a few times, got my bearings screwed and got lost a couple of times. Eventually I gave up and parked at the lot I just happened to be passing on New Market Street. Walked the rest of the way to Settler's. Good thing it wasn't a long walk.

I had already had dinner so I contented myself with a small plate of "black pepper" fries and a RB float. Our group entertained ourselves with 'Apples to Apples,' a mix-n-match word game of random associations and hasty explanations.

A kick-back, laze around Friday evening. The weekend's finally here!

Good news! The Drama Club's performance isn't this Saturday after all, but next, 23 July. Which means I can have a life this weekend and still have a little more time to polish the production into something credible. As it is, judging by what the kids were coming up with at this afternoon's rehearsal, this movement piece is becoming increasingly watchable and there are moments when the ensemble actually offers some rib-tickling scenes.

With more polish and timing I think our presentation of "Tangerine" will be quite unusual and unexpected. Hope the audience gets it though. I am asking them to make a stretch of tolerance to sit through the whole thing. Must thank Mel for kindly doing the reading so I can concentrate on directing. I promised her an expensive dinner at "somewhere nice" for her sacrifice. Wonder if she'll hold me to my word?

Good to see that Amy's big project turned out quite nicely today. She'll score some major points for sure. She was in charge of the new council's investiture and it flowed quite smoothly, like clockwork. What helped was that there was no attempt to make the event appear more than it was. There have been previous similar ceremonies that became rather emotional affairs for the participants. They teared, some quietly sobbed behind their dignity, some had stiff jaws but trembling lips because it's hard for the exiting council to say goodbye amidst the recollection of memories both happy and painful.

This ceremony though just as dignified kept the tone light and perfunctory -- just a matter of remove badge, sit down for the outgoing councilors. The mandatory speeches were thankfully short utterances of politeness and quickly followed up by the next item on the agenda. The new council was sworn in and invested with the duties, responsibilities, rights and priviledges of councilors which they will fulfill to the best of their ability and partake of to the fullest of their capacity respectively. Plain and simple. Lovely.

If there was anything that bugged me, it was the sense that the ceremony might have been just a little over-rehearsed. Even the tribute song from the incumbents to the umm... out-go-bents was mechanical, lacking the spontaneity that it might have had. That's Amy's mania, I suppose. It's a good thing she hangs out with us, who every so often remind her not to take herself too seriously, to take it easy and not get too obsessive over protocol, or else she might become another [ex-colleague with control issues] and that, I think, would be tragic. Don't worry, Amy, we're not gonna let that happen to you. No way.

Embarked on another round of training for The New Subject. For this term, every Wednesday afternoon I will be on campus at the new SMU learning about critical thinking and logic in the hope that I will be able to acquire and use these skills for myself and then pass them on to my eager, young, bright-eyed apprentices come next year.

I'm really excited to be pioneering this new direction in education; to train students in thinking for themselves, to regain their natural curiosity for the world around them and to be able to relate their input and stimuli to a moral core and make well-reasoned judgments and take action accordingly. Proactive, independent, self-motivated students who care about what goes on around them and are willing and able to do something about it. All this from a 1-and-a-half year course + another half year of independent research. Well, that's what we hope we'll get, anyway.

Meantime, I'm learning all this new stuff about the different ways we can encounter, express and evaluate Truth (Veritas) and it's quite confusing and technical right now. Our instructor, Mark, assures us that we'll get better with practice so NBS and I will have to have frequent arguments with each other just to sharpen the tools that we use to extract truth. Ooo... verbal lightsabre duels, though as Mark reiterated several times, the 'argument' in this context is not for the purpose of 'winning' but for establishing the Truth.

Oops, tangential thought. From marking over 70 GP essays over the last week or so, we lament that the students tend to balance their arguments badly. They present schizophrenic cases allowing contradictory positions without dealing with the truth of the matter. This is akin to merely reporting on a quarrel between 2 parties with differing viewpoints and just leaving it as such without resolution. He said, She said... so what? A 'balanced' argument isn't just a matter of parroting 2 (or more) sides of a story. Any idiot can do this, no need to take the 'A' levels for this skill.

What do we do about a GP essay, then? We determine how the statement of inquiry (i.e., the essay question) contains only a partial truth and we apply to the statement the various parameters, conditions, circumstances, etc., that will make the statement true. We then use sound reasoning to prove the verity of the modified statement. No wonder GP is so tough, so hard to "score" in. We only teach them to 'balance,' and not how to deal with conflicting thoughts and patiently tease out the Truth for a better understanding and appreciation of life itself.

Thus enlightened, I went bowling with the guys again. Personal high game: 190. Personal average:>150 over 6 games. Quite ok, lah.

One last parting shot: Kids, take a lesson from June who's resting up her sprained back now. When you have to bend to pick up a heavy object, for goodness sake, bend your knees as you establish your grip, then straighten your legs to carry it up. DO NOT lift with your back or there will be... consequences.

Great. Spent another evening passed out on the living room floor drifting between Theta and Delta state. I must have been more tired than I realized. Now I'm awake (barely) I've just got enough sense to get myself showered and into bed properly. G'night!

Arrived at Plaza Starbowl late for training. Monday's bad for me because of my 3 lecture slots packed within a 4-hour window in the afternoon, so it's a no-lunch day. Today was a bit worse 'cos the Drama Club needed to rehearse for Saturday's performance so even after the last lecture I was still engaged.

Before commencing bowling training, we had a much needed dinner at the new-looking food court bearing the name, "Sultan's Kitchen." I had the chicken cutlet from the western food stall. Nice, large, breaded chunk of chicken fillet that I tore into with great enthusiasm. Halfway through however, I realised that the cutlet was a bit underdone and decided to stop eating it in case I get food-poisoning from eating partially-cooked chicken meat. Hope what I did eat was still fit for human consumption. Guess we'll find out tomorrow. Meantime, there's bowling to be done.

The bowling alley was full with all lanes booked for some corporate league night. We had to wait a bit for a couple of lanes to clear but in the meantime we tried to pursuade Amy to part with her hard-earned cash and buy a ball and shoes for herself for $160 and be a full-fledged member of our we-own-our-own-ball-and-shoes club. Amy stood her ground, though, and since she wouldn't let us help her with shopping we killed time shooting pool instead. Yee and me vs Vince and Anthony. My pool is still erratic, though I can occasionally pot a ball or two if the angles line up right. More practice needed, def.

After winning a game apiece, we finally got to bowl. Team performance for a 3-game series: Average. Good thing the competition date is at the end of this month. More time to train!

Bah... slow news day.

Bathroom's Spartan in it's simplicity. Same as it was before.


Yay! Bedroom's habitable again! Wonder how long it'll stay this neat?

I signed up for a Friendster account last night, after 17 million people had already signed up for one. I did that because I found someone's blog and I wanted to add a comment. Dumb thing won't let me comment unless I was a member. Great sales gimmick; good thing membership is free.

It's really sad as a new member. As I set up my account, the counter reminds me how pathetic my life is. It reads, "You have (0) friends." So I edit my profile, recalling bits of my life, interests and hobbies hoping to attract the attention of other people who might share my wavelength. Maybe that counter would rise a little higher if so.

I also search around a bit to find names of people I know. Not many names appear, at least for my age group (ancient) so it's either my contemporaries are far and few between or they're just not net savvy enough. Nonetheless, I do find a few names, and coincidentally, they're the people I hang out with on campus and off anyway. So I "invite" them to be my Friendster friends and await a favourable reply.

Thing is, as I search through millions of names and faces wondering who and where my friends are, I flash back to an unrelated piece of info someone divulged a couple of days ago. There is another bunch of staff leaving either for greener pastures or the service altogether. It's an annual cycle and of course the industry is a bit concerned about its annual turnover rate. I might have been a statistic, myself. My intention was to fulfill my 3-year contract and leave to rejoin MU (not Manchester United) full-time. Nearly 6 years later, I'm still keeping my tab running.

Part of the reason is that I need the money, but if that was the only reason I'd be the saddest sod on the planet. The workload and responsibilities keep piling up year after year, and the restrictions get tighter and tighter. It's not the kids who keep me around, though they have their charm and their ability to keep the place interesting and challenging.

What's really keeping me around are my fellows in the staff room. The people we can discuss work with but, more often than not, anything other than work. Having meals is riotous with insults thrown around, insinuations made, aspersions cast, characters defamed and having generally unwholesome talk around the table. We compete hard with each other in our games, we celebrate our happy events and we chill out after hours. We even get in trouble together, occasionally receiving the same 'gentle' reminders in our email inboxes.

In a workplace that's crazy but pretends to be sane, it's great to be able to gather a few people together with whom we can be sane but pretend to be crazy. Thanks, guys!

*wipes tear

Inspired by our Great Toilet Renovation, we embark on our own DIY Paint Job Project


Wake up to bright sunshine everyday -- paint your bedroom wall orange!

June and I amazed ourselves, finishing our bedroom project (no, not THAT bedroom project) within a day. Our new white-and-orange colour scheme is warmer and more cheery than our previous white-and-white combo.

Despite my initial deep misgivings, none of the disaster scenarios I forsaw came to pass. The paint cans didn't get knocked over, spilling paint all over the marble flooring; the brushes and rollers didn't drip unexpectedly; the wardrobe and air-con unit didn't get streaks of unusual colours due to careless brush-strokes; and the wall didn't become patchy with an uneven application of paint. I should'a had more faith in June. After all, she paints animals on rocks as a hobby. Quite nicely, too.

Not only is our bedroom looking new, the toilet project is finally over too! While waiting for the first coat to dry, we cleaned up the new toilet -- eliminating cement splatter, dirt and grime both recent and from several years ago. Stubborn cement splattered on the wall tiles had to be scraped off individually with my screwdriver, but they came out easily enough. We'll be able to move back into our bedroom and adjoining toilet tomorrow after the silicone holding up the glass partition dries. Meantime, hope our downstairs neighbour is happy now that the leak's been dealt with.

Too tired now, but we need to celebrate our achievement tomorrow, somehow. Wonder if June has any place special in mind?

Spent a chunk of my life trying to fill up a feedback form in response to a survey carried out by the Big Kahunas themselves. The Great Ones had wanted to know what the general public thought of all of us in the industry, so they took a survey, tabulated the results and generally got a favourable outcome. It seems that an overwhelming majority of the public likes us a lot.

Given this result, the Big Kahunas wanted us to think about how come people like us so much. I would have thought that good news was good news, so let's not look a gift horse in the mouth, but no. "Analysis" doesn't begin with "anal" for nothing. So on a Friday afternoon, after 4 nearly straight hours of classes, I engaged brain and sat and thought about it. I did.

People like us so much because 1) the Big Kahunas themselves have nice, friendly faces and like to talk and discuss their ideas with the general public, making the latter feel like they have some input into the decision-making process. 2) Most parents like us because their kids' grades are satisfactorily high year after year, so there's no reason to complain against us. 3) The media has also been good to us, trying to put a positive spin on things as far as possible.

The Big Kahunas are concerned because of the multitudes that like us, there is a dip in approval ratings for our ability to impart morality to the kids. They want to know what we might do about that. I thought perhaps we should send more reminders to parents to look after their own kids more responsibly. Our organization is an institution of intellectual-academic development, which is our "core competency," and not so much moral upbringing. No one else is better positioned to look after morality than parents themselves, and religious institutions whose business it is to tell people how to behave themselves, or else... H. E. Double hockey-sticks.

The Big Kahunas also wanted to know what we could do to get parents more involved in our business. I think parents should just look after the home front viz. the above and that's good enough, thank you.

There were a couple of better questions to answer also, so I won't bother relpying to them here 'cos I already did in the feedback questionnaire. It's these other little questions that no-one likes to hear my answers to (because they're not implementable in a 12-step, 5-year corporate action plan) that I respond to in my little private space on the web. See? Even I'm guilty of not always speaking my mind when King Kamehameha comes a-callin'.

Normal lessons resume today, coinciding with the increased heartrate I woke up with this morning. Anticipation, excitement, and a touch of fear as well. Public speaking is one of humankind's greatest fears after all, no matter the size and disposition of the audience.

Afternoon lessons spent in a steam oven of a classroom. Everyone visibly wilting as the day wore on. And again, little relief from the heat at home either due to the no-aircon rule. Feeling faint now...

For someone who can only focus on one thing at a time, I'm looking at this year at it's halfway point and thinking I've overloaded my capacity to handle all my expectations. My year so far is littered with a pile of things I've started but I'm having difficulty seeing how to gather up all the loose ends and draw them to a satisfying conclusion. Some things I haven't even started yet, even though I might have intended to from as early as the beginning of the year. 'Yes,' is a dangerous word that one should use sparingly for best results.

Let's not get into comparing whose to-do list is longer. That's not the point. It's sufficiently frustrating when even a few things are demanding such attention that you don't know which to give your attention to first and as a result you shut down and not do anything at all. It's the paralysis of a deer caught in headlights: watching impending disaster approach takes priority over firing the right synapses to empower the right muscles that work together to jolt one out of harm's way.

Where is all this negative energy coming from? Maybe I'm just having a bad day, I'm tense and not trusting of the society around me. Maybe it's the 9 demerit points for lousy driving I got slapped with for being in the wrong place at the wrong time; while other reckless, aggressive drivers appear to go unpunished (I've sent an appeal letter, BTW, as advised by the Traffic Police FAQ website -- see how, lor). Maybe it's how some ideas I have that look good in theory turn out a far cry from what I wanted in practice. Guess it's an accumulation of things that need venting every now and then.

If I could begin this year all over again, I wonder which non-consequentials on my current list I should've said, "no," to and thus have been a happier boy today?

Meantime, my toilet's all torn up and stripped bare. I've got bags of cement stacked outside my front door and bathroom tiles piled within. A new bowl is waiting to be installed once the waterproofing layer gets laid tomorrow. And no air-con for 3 days until the renovation is complete. I'm hot, sticky and smelly, and will probably remain so for the duration. Could this be another source of my ill-temper? Bah!

Took Q-tip back into Upper Seletar Reservoir and finished my marking there. Way before schedule. Due to some good planning by the Department, we were able to work out a more efficient marking system this mid-year, and hopefully we can keep it going for the rest of the year.

The reservoir seems a bit paranoid about people making lurrve in the quiet spaces on the grounds. Below is a typical reservoir signboard and the interpretation of each injunction from Right to Left, Top to Bottom:


No hookers, No buggery, No short-term layovers,
No oral, No hand-jobs, No wiping,
Handle stiff objects with care, Baby don't light my fire, No riding,
No doggie, No deflowering, No loud sound effects.

If you must, then please get a hotel room. Thank you.

This entry is about the events of last weekend so it's a bit backdated.

Amy, Vince, June and I survived each other's company over a 2-night trip upcountry. On Anthony and Wendy's invitation, we spent both nights triple-sharing a room at the Ritz-Carlton, KL, to attend their wedding on Saturday evening.

We arrived at KL's Bangsar district exactly 5 hours after we left the First Coach office at Novena Square as scheduled. On the way up, we had only 1 rest stop at a place where, to our surprise, we found an A&W outlet serving our favourite root beer in chilled mugs. But we were a little anxious that the bus might leave without us (not much shopping, eating and toilet activities we could do in 20 minutes anyway) so we grabbed our root beer in paper cups to go.

KL has pretty much everything: big, impressive buildings and monuments; busy public and private transport systems; and lots of happenin' people and hip places to visit. Everywhere you look it's a bit different from the last place you looked at, not like the cookie-cutter scenery we get here -- the same stores with the same deco and layout whether downtown or in a "heartland" mall. Smaller-scale family businesses also thrive here in the low-rise areas. It's nice to see that big business hasn't completely run rampant and taken over.

KL is also dusty and grimy, and despite the effort made to keep the streets clear of litter, there seems to be a dull grey coating of some powdery substance over every building in town. Pollution, the price cities pay as they grow in size, importance and population.

After checking in on Friday night, we went out for dinner and a taxi ride to the Hard Rock Cafe where June confirmed her arrival in yet another foreign city by purchasing a few HRC t-shirts, one of which I became the lucky recipient of. Thanks, June! We walked to the KLCC at the base of the twin Petronas Towers in the hope of catching a midnight movie, but it looked like the rest of KL also had the same idea. We made a u-turn and went back to our hotel where we met Weng to go over some details for the wedding.

Saturday morning we woke up too late for the Ritz-Carlton provided breakfast so we followed Weng's directions in search of a certain famous "Muk Kut Teh" stall on Jalan Medan Imbi. We ordered from the first stall we came to and though June later scouted ahead and declared we were at the wrong stall, our herbal pork garlic soup was still better than the stuff we get in Singapore.

From breakfast we walked to Berjaya Times Square and made a bee-line for the Baskin Robbins, another treat that has gone extinct where we live. Of course, you know what else is in this building that would be a great attraction for June and me: the indoor roller coaster operated by Cosmo's World. Amy isn't into thrill rides so we abandoned her outside and paid 25RM each for an unlimited pass into the theme park.

"Supersonic Odyssey" is quite an extensive ride passing through every part of the indoor theme park. It starts high, which saves the initial clacketty climb and whizzes through a course boasting several banks and a few twists before ascending in the middle of the ride so as to plunge through 2 great non-consecutive loops before the end. We came out dizzy with wobbly legs and at least for June and me, eager to do it again later.

We didn't have much time so we went to try out the other ride that we thought was worthy of our time. "Space Attack" is a twin suspended "Viking" like ride that begins with a standard "Viking" type swing then goes into 5 rapid 360° loops one way, then another 5 backwards. Oh, the screams! Thrill factor way above the coaster I would say.

We were needed back at our hotel soon, so Vince ran off to find Amy while June and I stayed on to ride the coaster one last time to get our money's worth. We walked back to the hotel drenched in a sudden downpour.

As soon as we got ourselves showered and dry,Weng brought in Edward and Cheryl to meet me to rehearse our tribute to Anthony and Wendy. It was a short, [mostly] true dramatization of the love story behind the happy couple. Obviously, Edward played Anthony and Cheryl played Wendy. Weng was the narrator and also Wendy's mom, and me, well, I played "everyone else": Anthony's friend, Wendy's friend, and boring lecturer. Perfect casting, then.

Our "play" seemed to have gone down well. No vegetables came hurtling down our way, but that was probably because we were scheduled to go on before the dinner's first course.

You already know how the wedding went so skip to the next day where the 4 of us went back to look for our elusive pork soup for breakfast and went to the right place this time. Unanimously, we decided that yesterday's was marginally better.

Back at the hotel, June and I had a little time to kill before catching our coach back to Singapore. The 4 of us explored the hotel swimming pool and spa then went up to the 19th floor lounge for another round of coffee/tea and a read of the daily newspaper. We met Weng, Luanne and Desmond there too and yakked a bit before we had to leave. Amy and Vince were booked on a later coach so we took leave of them too, leaving them to their own devices until check-out time.

Waited for the coach at the place where it dropped us off the night before, which was the wrong place to catch it again. Fortunately, we were a little early so we decided to explore the area while we waited, and found the coach parked around the corner where other passengers were boarding. That was a lucky break for us.

Home by 1700. What a weekend!

We're back from KL, and Anthony's officially hitched! He and Wendy signed on the dotted line at the Ceylon Coffee House in a small outdoor ceremony followed by a sit-down fork-and-knife dinner. Weng, the MC, Best Man, Wedding Coordinator was the most stressed-out person on the spot. I know how he feels, at managing events as complex as this.

It was a theme party to the theme of 'Never-Neverland' and most of us invited came in some kind of attire based on 'Peter Pan.' The four of us, me, June, Vince and Amy likewise dressed up for the occasion:


4 Neverlandists await the arrival of the Pan


How does this hapless landlubber know my sword's only made of plastic?


Oh, for a life on the sea!

My digicam's quite useless for night shots so unfortunately I couldn't get too many more pix. Hope Luanne will develop some of her shots from her roll for us...

Bathroom tiles arrived today, much earlier than appointed. I was already on campus and June was just leaving for work when notice came to her via our block cleaning staff that a stack of tiles had been delivered to the block unloading bay, a.k.a. the block garbage dump. June calls to appraise me of the situation and I get permission from Boss-lady to take an hour off to settle my domestic emergency.

5 boxes, 12 tiles per box. Nett weight per box: 19kg. Individually hand carried back to my unit by myself. June couldn't even lift one, though she tried to help. They're all now sitting nicely on my living room floor waiting to be installed next week. Maybe my muscles and bones will knit themselves together by then too.

In the afternoon, the water heater got installed. Hot showers again! So spoilt, right? And our bathroom contractor dropped in to take a look at the tempered glass partition in the bathroom which we asked him to save and reinstall once the renovation is done. He came over, took some measurements, worked out his sums and priced this 'extra' at $350. Thank God (and HDB) for our repair subsidy.

In the evening I was horribly upset by yet another letter from the Traffic Police. I quote: "Inconsiderate Driving (Non-Accdt LV)* Under S65 RTA CAP 276" and this one comes with demerit points: 9 (Nooooo....!!!) and fine: $170 >O<. The date and time: 5 April 2005, 1109 am. This is no longer funny. I reread my entry for that day to recall what I did to deserve this summons: On 5 April a truck had damaged M2's rear early in the morning and at 1100 I was coming back from reporting the accident at IDAC Braddell. My situation at the time should be grounds enough to mount an appeal against this TP charge. Item 1: I was a relatively new driver..., Item 2: driving and still getting used to a new car..., Item 3: in a slightly distracted state of mind after having suffered survived an auto collision a few hours ago..., Item 4: traveling for the first time as a driver on a road with lanes leading off in confusing directions while trying to figure out where I should go next to get to my intended destination.

Despite what I said earlier, I am NOT a bad driver and I feel quite victimized by this spate of correspondences. 9 demerit points is damnedly serious and needs at least an attempt to fight off. I'll have to use the Youth Day hol on Monday to 'have tea' with the TP in their HQ and get this straightened out. Wish me luck!

Marking essays. The question reads, "Do you think young Singaporeans are well-prepared for life today?" If ever there was a question inviting whines for answers this would be it. I've got the angsty kids railing at the education system, accusing it of rigidity and failing to prepare them to be critical/creative thinkers which is what the economy needs in this new Information Age. I've also got the suck-ups who praise the "government" for recognizing that people are the only resource in our [pathetic] country and the initiatives -- some students actually do bother to name a few -- it implements in schools will stand today's students in good stead when they go out to work as adults.

Nothing wrong with either answer, per se, but the conclusions seem a little hasty.
Newsflash 1: school isn't the only agent responsible for preparing kids to grow up.
Newsflash 2: the higher up the rungs of education our youths climb, the less representative they are of the general youth population. Already at JC level only a small proportion of a year's academic cohort are priviledged enough to further their studies, but at the same time pretty much isolating themselves from the majority of their contemporaries.

So students who just focus on how education is ruining their lives and eroding their hopes for the future; or those who agree with policy without question just don't have the scope to answer the question adequately. Sadly, lots of students have taken either tack. The difference between pass and fail therefore boils down to how well they express themselves in English on paper. Same as always.

My standards are clear to me. But I have to wonder, am I being too nit-picky as a marker? Am I expecting too much from these JC1 kids? As they are, their answers are reasonable, though I would also like to reward sophistication as well. Here is my dilemma with every paper I mark. Is it fair to punish naivete? No wonder I'm slow.

It doesn't take much to break my rhythm. 2 morning meetings and 1 afternoon of shopping around for bathroom floor tiles and I'm behind on my marking quota. Then again, overcoming inertia is always slow going in the initial stages. Let me take comfort in that.

Our bathroom renovation is about a week away and we still needed to make a decision on the kind of floor tiles we want. The contractor offered us some options that simply would not do. We couldn't find a suitable colour to match our wall tiles -- too light, too pinkish, too ugly... and the material didn't seem all that non-slip to us though they were supposed to be. The other option was to source our own tiles and pay for them outside our package deal though the contractor will install them at no extra cost to us.

A trip over to Balestier then, where we got a sand-coloured tile set for the bathroom. Delivery on Thursday, 7 boxes worth which I will have to personally carry from the void deck back to my unit 'cos delivery isn't a doorstep service. Guess I could use the workout.

While at Balestier, June bought a couple of durians from the stalls in front of the Chinese temple. They were potent, fragrant and delicious. More delays. Heh heh.

Yet another half a year has flown by again. Today begins Term 3 of the school year and we celebrated this red-letter day with the GP mid-year exam. Marking open season begins as a result and I have a bunch of essays to finish marking before Friday. With 3 days' worth of concentrated marking, I should be able to put a major dent in my marking quota, then I can travel to KL over the weekend with a clear conscience.

June's been busy looking for accessories to touch up my pirate costume. She found my hoop earring and a plastic cutlass, which I will have to explain to customs is meant as a costume prop and not for threatening the bus driver with to take me to Trengganu. Now that everyone's expecting to wear some kind of costume, June's slowly starting to ponder her options. Let's see.

Finally, after weeks of showering with cold water since our heater died on us, we're getting a new one installed on Thursday. I thought it would get easier to accept cold showers through repeated acclimatization, but it turned out not to be. We were actually waiting to do up the heater during the Great Toilet Renovation but since we've decided to cut out the 'dream' part of 'dream toilet' in the hopes of being able to afford some travel later this year the heater can come in first. We're not doing the wall tiles anymore.

And I've just received my first traffic summons. Apparently, as I interpret the letter, I changed lanes at a place I wasn't supposed to. I have no idea how they discovered my crime, and I have no memory of ever having committed such a thing, but given the way I drive, it's quite plausible that I did. So the penalty is 4 demerit points (bloody ouch!) and a $130 fine (doh!). Maybe I should cancel 'Initial-D" off my must-watch list.

Spent a pleasant evening catching up with 3A2 and Cara. Thanks for the pizza and chicken, and your company! 

Mimi and Q-tip enter a 'Best Dressed Dog' contest.


Surprise results! Q-tip emerges 4th, and Mimi 'Gangster' Wong is the Champion!

Anthony's stag event begins with a round of paintball!


Slim as she is, Cheryl just can't find a way to slip through the grille.


Invincible Vince, victor of the last-man-standing challenge.

Early morning paintball began in dreary weather. A light rain kept things cool for us as we got to grips with a game requiring some of "us" to shoot at and kill some of "them" Some adapted faster than others, though our initial game was still a tentative affair. Objective: pop the opponents' balloon while guarding ours at the same time. Lesson 1: camping is no fun. Anthony made a very daring run and came very close to popping my team's balloon but he had no support and he was driven off in the nick of time. My team learned and through an overlapping maneuvre won the game.

A speeding Edward won the second game for Anthony's team. We had barely begun the game -- I was still fiddling with my safety switch -- when it was all over. Lesson 2: speed has the advantage over inaccurate firepower.

We also played a couple of other variations including one where it was Anthony vs the rest of the world, in honour that it was his special day.

Biggest lesson: we wouldn't have lasted 10 minutes in a real war. It took a lot out of us just trying to move and keep low at the same time. Very quickly our legs cramped up and our knees protested. So much for visualizing leaping over crates, rolling in a tuck somersault and catching the enemy off-guard and in shock. Visualize all you want, our bodies just wouldn't respond to such ludicrous commands. After an hour, though our hearts were still in the game, our bodies finally quit. Time to hit the beach.

Paintball practically drained our energy for pretty much the rest of the day. We settled at Club Bora Bora on Sentosa and sat around for a while staring blankly into space. Then we remembered we were here to play so we had something of a chuck-the-frisbee-around session. It was here that I was running after a bad throw and I tripped on a granite rock that someone had thoughtlessly left lying around on the beach. The skin on my big toe opened up in 2 places and started bleeding quite impressively. The lifeguard on duty did a good job of mummyfing my toe so I could go back to playing with the guys. Anthony got dunked into the lagoon chasing another bad throw then realized that his new mobile phone was still in his pocket. It got wet, it refused to function, so that was the end of our frisbee toss.

We had a pool (billiards, not swimming) challenge and insisted that Anthony had to win 3 games in a row because "it was his special day." He won 4 games in a row, and I don't think anyone made it easy for him either. Me, I discovered I could probably play a decent round of pool, though I could use a lot more practice.

We went to dinner at Hooters where the service staff are supposed to be the main attraction. Indeed, they were friendly and attentive and, I guess, cute too -- though I didn't notice any that were of knockout calibre, like those whose photos adorn the "wall of honour" in the toilet. I appreciate the service and the food was pretty good too. American-sized portions, tasty and very satisfying.

While the rest of the party was busy playing "The 12 Tasks of Anthony" involving him answering a series of questions of a personal nature, and also requiring him to make impertinent requests of strangers, June and I decided that our geriatric bodies needed rest. So we left the party while Anthony was still pondering how he could get a female stranger to reveal to him what kind of underwear she was wearing.

Booked tix on First Coach from SIN to KL for us and Vince and Amy. June and me return, Vince and Amy 1-way. Not that they've decided to defect to Malaysia but because Vince needs to be back early Sunday morning and Amy is too polite to share our room for 1 more night. She says sharing a room with us is like sharing a room with mommy and daddy. Youngsters. Huh.

Have to sleep early tonight. Early morning activities scheduled for tomorrow. It's Anthony's stag party and Weng is trying to arrange a memorable one for him. Should be fun!

As the June break winds down, people are finding excuses to return to campus and continue working. Consultations for individual and small groups of students are in full swing, and I wonder if they had ever come to a halt at all? Everyone's anxious, particularly as the first day of the new term -- no, wait, make that this Friday (no kidding!) -- commences the mid-year exam period for the whole college.

Even I've found myself back on campus making preparations for the GP mid-year paper. And to pass Amy the fairy wings she's borrowing from June. Yup, she's been invited to the wedding as well. Right now we're making our travel arrangements and hopefully we'll get them settled soon. We're thinking of taking a coach up to KL rather than drive. Amy and Vince aren't confident that their cars can make the long drive and I'm not confident enough of my driving skills to brave Malaysian highway traffic.

Late afternoon I found myself alone again so I put in more time bowling at SAFRA. In a 6-game marathon I bowled my first 4-bagger and also managed to bowl my first clean game for a score of 186. Not bad. Average after 6 games: 158. Must continue to keep my focus and concentration for the competition. Grrr... *knits eyebrows, bares teeth.

Yay! Time to go shopping. For clothes this time, not what you think. Anthony's wedding dinner is a theme party. Weng's arranging for it to be 'Neverland,' which means anything related to the Peter Pan mythos. Just off the top of my head, the possibilities are: fairies, pirates, Red Indians, mermaids, Lost Boys, kids in pyjamas, assorted woodland animals and shrubbery, a crocodile and formally dressed parents. Did I miss anything out?

Looking at this list, I think the easiest and most economical option would be the pyjamas. But that's not quite my style so I chose the next best thing -- a pirate. Not the Captain, mind you, just a swab. Seems easy enough. I went to Bugis Village for a pair of drawstring pants (free size), and got a blue striped rugby jersey from Bossini. I was hoping for something slightly oversize, so I went for XL, but XL fitted me exactly. Sigh. Actually, I saw another jersey that I thought would have been ideal because of the lace-up front; unfortunately, it belonged to the ladies' section and I had no hope of being able to fit into it. Double sigh.

The army surplus stores on Beach Road provided the eye patch and my blue bandana should complete the ensemble. A baby blue pirate, howzat? Still having trouble considering footwear, though. Pirates usually go barefoot, though I guess my leather sandals should be quite acceptable.

Cost: for everything I bought today, $32.50. I'm also still looking for a respectable sword and maybe a large hoop earring. Too bad toy stores these days tend to sell stupid-looking Power Rangers inspired "hi-tech" flashing light swords. Rubbish. Oh well, if I really can't find a sword, I'll settle for a wood-handled mop for swabbing the deck with.

June wants to go formal, so it'll be pirate and captive lady. Now, where did I put my handcuffs? Kinky.

Batman Begins. Love the cool toys, the exploding/collapsing public infrastructure (probably all paid for by Wayne money anyway), the intro of Scarecrow -- an often underrated Batman villain, the emotiveness of the characters, and the attempt to make the Batman a swift, near-invisible predator who makes criminals quake in their boots. This Batman is a trained, disciplined, self- directed weapon against crime after overcoming his trauma and psychosis rather than just another nutjob in a costume. Under another title, he would have made a scary Sith lord, given the tutelage of a dark Qui-Gon Jinn.

Couple of things bothered me, cool as this Dark Knight tale has been. Fight sequences move too quickly, too close-up. If there was any fight choreography at all, it was lost in a blur of action quite wasting the effort. Also, the Batman mask -- way pointy ears and long pointy nose, not so much scary as it is comedic in a face-to-face encounter. Otherwise, it was a fun ride.

Got more bowling practice in the evening. I only had 1 game at the CSC because of some tournament being held there, so we adjourned to dinner then decided to go back to Plaza Bowl on Beach Road because it was convenient for Wendy to collect Anthony after our game. Amy joined us having returned from her Swiss holiday over the weekend.

It was quite a surprise to see that the old Plaza Bowl has undergone refurbishing and is now Star Bowl, a completely new bowling alley. Bright lighting, smooth polished boards and pins that go skidding around creating spectacular strikes with a well-thrown ball. Amy bowled her best game here so far: 128 I think it was. Anthony's elbow seems to be recovering, his scores climbing back to his regular game again.

Oh, and every Monday and Wednesday night is red-pin night. Occasionally, 1 red pin is placed in a random location amongst the other 9. If that red pin is the only pin standing after your first throw, you get a prize. I discovered this 'bonus' when I did inadvertently accomplish this task and the guy in the next lane informed me to approach the counter and show the counter guy what I'd done. I came back with a face cloth emblazoned with the "Star Bowl" logo. Just what I need to clean my ball with.

Now we have a new place to practice when the CSC lanes are closed for 2 weeks in July for its own servicing and maintenance.

And Q-tip gets an airing at Upper Peirce Reservoir 

The Pitstop, Car Park B, Upper Seletar Reservoir

This is the refreshment kiosk I referred to in my previous entry. It turned out to be an excellent spot to take Dad out to for his Father's Day lunch. Firstly, it was nostalgic for him to revisit an old landmark (the reservoir, not the car park) that we always drove past whenever he took me back to my army camp during my NSF days. He's not been back this way for nearly 20 years already.

Second, the food is really good. It's home cooked from scratch by the proprietor (Mike) and his wife (Angela). They have a nasi bryani set served with a tandoori chicken leg that unlike the dry, stringy texture you'd expect of a tandoori, it's moist and juicy under the firery red exterior. And they add a special pepper sauce that goes so well with the fragrant yellow rice. We ordered 2 sets to share amongst 4 of us.

We also ordered a chicken curry with french loaf. Nice to see a chicken curry in which the meat hasn't disintegrated into the curry but is still tender, yet integral unto itself. We had the nasi lemak as well which was more lemak than the overrated Chong Pang variety that Channel U has apparently endorsed. And the mee siam was from a recipe that I thought had gone extinct, that I knew mee siam to be, yet I could never recapture in present-day Singapore. It was a mee siam that brought me back to the old Indian man whose stall in my old school canteen still holds fond memories for me. The gravy is pinkish, a little thicker than the soupy stuff we get nowadays, more sweet than sour, and just a little bit lemak as well.

Mike explained that this was the original recipe that the Indian stevedores concocted when they wanted bee hoon but couldn't stomach the blandness of Chinese bee hoon soup. The recipe died out when they got themselves repatriated to India or heaven. The recipe was then revived by the nonyas, who reengineered it to their taste for hot and sour and today it's this version that lives on. Another interesting piece of info: mee siam is endemic to Singapore. No one else eats mee siam (historically speaking) in the region, so where the "siam" part of the name came from is a bit of a mystery.

We polished off 6 cans of Minute Maid lemonade and felt a bit bad when Mike was trying to promote this new label to his other customers and realized there was only 1 measly can left in his drinks fridge. A possible new addiction to substitute for Coke, my regular poison. Hope it catches on.

Unfortunately we were too full to end with dessert. June and I know they have a delicious, unusually light and fluffy chocolate brownie ala mode 'cos we actually recc'ed the place yesterday lunchtime after Belle's checkup with Dr Casey. Belle's still trying to regain the use of her right foot, BTW. But she's also adapting herself to move around on 3 legs in the meantime.

Third, Mike and Angela are not so much "service-oriented" as they are genuinely personable and friendly. They have stories to tell about their customers, their pets and their customers' pets as well. This is one place where the proprietors introduce their customers to each other because they know their regulars firsthand.

Fourth, economy. For everything that we ordered and stuffed ourselves with, total bill: $31.70. Not bad for a meal for 4.

An excellent date place, especially in the late afternoon, early evening. It's quiet, natural and romantic, especially when it gets a bit darker and you climb the lookout tower or just sit on the breakwater watching the sunset together with your date. Good place to think and write too, if my previous suggestion is too mushy for you.

This place is open from 1130 to 1900 every day except Thursdays and the 1st Saturday of every month. It's best to drive here as it's a bit out of the way, though there is a bus stop on Mandai Road from which you can walk in. Just head for the rocket and you're there.

Oh, Mike hinted that some big real estate players may be muscling their way in to take over the golf course under whose auspices his establishment operates under. That could cast a shadow over the long-term viability of the Pitstop as it is run today. Until then, it'll be let's take it easy and live one day at a time. Good philosophy.