Today was the Teachers' Day celebration in college. Oddly enough, the staff performed concert items, the students sat and watched. Usually, it's the other way around. But anyway, this occasion marked the inaugural usage of the new parade square for official college business, and here P announced her retirement to the whole college as well.


Q-tip is happiest beneficiary of my TDay gift from the college management -- 2 punnets of strawberries.

And S3D, thanks for the card and your individual messages -- all the nice things you said. :)
I'll continue working hard for you, just remember to keep me on my toes, ok?

Spent 2 hours after the celebrations helping to facilitate a staff workshop on Reasoning a la Richard Paul, though most of the attendees already knew something about it or were already using it in some form or other in their classes already. Guess it's good to consolidate and standardize everything for all departments, but it does make for a dry session when preaching to the converted. Talked too much during my section of the sharing, but if you look at most of the entries in this blog, you'll know it's a trait of mine to ramble on and on and on...

Still reading? Wow!

Celebrated with Vince, Amy, Yee and HP at the Gardens' Country Manna, then went bowling [again!!] the rest of the afternoon.

In the evening I made a turkey delivery (don't ask) to M-i-L's, met June there then drove down to meet Anthony at the petanque courts in Toa Payoh to help him set up for the International petanque tourney scheduled for this weekend. We strung up bunting, ran cable and attempted to assemble the rather large scoreboard in an easily seen location. June also busied herself cleaning up the grimy-looking water-cooler from which the participants will be drinking during the competition. By 2220 or so we were done. For our assistance, Anthony treated us to a Milo Dinosaur each at The Prata House. We gratefully lapped it up, then went on a mooncake delivery (M-i-L's homemade masterpieces) to my Mom's.

Dragged ourselves home past midnight and to bed immediately, hence and forthwith. 'night 'night!

Yay! Table #1 at the annual staff dinner - Anthony - Bhagia - Yee + Gerald.

Our table was in the darkest corner, and for most of the evening we were left to our own devices. Staff dinners are usually semi-formal occasions where the CC-NY schools we belong to recognize our hard work by buying us a 10-course Chinese meal. It also doubles as an initiation ceremony for new staff who put together some "entertainment" to display their talents for singing, dancing, acting and humiliating themselves in public. Essential qualities for a teacher to have, I think, considering the environment we work in.

This year's theme was "Cartoons," so Table #1 came as ourselves. 'nuff said. JY dressed as Snow White but it was just too bad that the dwarves at her table were taller than her. Haha.

The usual highlight was the Lucky Draw. Appropriately enough, Table #1 emerged luckiest table being drawn for the 1st prize in the Table Draw. We each got $20 worth of vouchers from Isetan. I have no doubt June will put my set to good use as will Wendy for Anthony. In the Individual category, Mel won a Metro stored value card, $25 I believe it was. Guess they're telling us to go get some grown-up clothes for ourselves to wear to work. :P

Despite Anthony's and Vince's will to win a top individual draw prize, they were no match for Tam who warded off our lucky charms and spells with the occasional incantation and a wave of his hands and secured the 1st prize for his table mate, TSL, who had only a couple of days ago remarked to me that she had never won anything before in her life. I told her she won the cubicle directly opposite mine, but that probably wasn't enough for her. Tonight she staggered home with a mini home theatre system including the all-important DVD player. I feel so belittled now.

Went bowling [again!] after dinner, and because she had left her make-up case in M2, Mel came along for the ride and bowled with us. And got very excited. Another bowling kaki in the making? We'll see.

Can't believe we've hit the last week of term 3 already. Prelims begin tomorrow for the Seniors, coinciding with our annual combined staff dinner with our sibling campuses; them whom we very nearly became named after during a recent scare a couple of months back. Though we got advance notice weeks ago we haven't had time to think about how our table is going to fit into this year's theme: Cartoons. A bit broad, ya?

Dunno what else to say... day quite uneventful.

Had an unscheduled tea-and-prata session and it was nice to have new company joining us: Avril and Josh amongst the regular crowd.
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....?

Bah. Guess I'm not in the mood to write today. Sorry.

Dinner with Q-tip at Bliss, Punggol Park.

Bliss was June's #2 choice for last week's venue before she decided on Sage. Tonight we dined on sirloin steak (rare with slightly overcooked veggies on the side); and a mixed seafood spaghetti in white wine sauce featuring a prawn whose head was bigger than the rest of its body.

Ambience was not too bad. Garden al fresco dining with a view of the lake pond and a cool evening breeze. The footpaths were crowded with humans and dogs on a walk, 'bladers, cyclists and joggers. Mid-meal we were treated to a spectacle a two-bicycle collision. Bloodless entertainment.

And Q-tip made a couple of new friends.

Just a quick note (in this belated entry) of another milestone I've reached in life and quietly acknowledged through a hard-copy letter I received yesterday. The letter announces that I have fulfilled my national service liability and I can bid goodbye to Uncle Seng once and for all. No more in-camps, no more mobs, no more tactical training and skills proficiency tests. It's over!!!!

From now on you may address me by my official title, Lcp (NS Ret.) "Xmac."

I never thought I would see the day.

Edit 01:
In the evening, the Drama Club bade farewell to our '05 seniors at BBQ pit 61, ECP. Nice place, less crowded than the location nearer the McD's and so breezy! The price of course, is the long walk to get here from civilization. No official programme; just burn food, eat, chat, sit by the sea and not necessarily in that order even. We'll let the pix tell the story:


Having survived his pre-election interview, Fran takes on yet another grilling.


The Wizard attempts to break the world speed record for chugging down a cup of soda.


'rini stays focused and determined as she butters up a chicken nugget.


Proof that things haven't changed much since human beings discovered fire.


Terry holds up marshmallows to represent the absent members of Mel's 04A2 in this class photo.


Girls never grow out of playing with their Barbie.


Darth Mel looks pleased with her new minion.


The Jedi rule of 1 master, 1 apprentice is another tradition lost since the MOE took over.

Acknowledgement:
I won't complain about crap night shots again -- this new toy is awesome! Thanks guys!

PEARLS is in its death throes. One last frantic shudder before finally resting in peace within the next week or so. With this last gasp, our college Seniors are madly scrabbling for whatever points they can scrape together from their co-curricular activities (CCA) while the system still has a few breaths left.

From an outsider's perspective, I think it's sad that these kids seem so desperate to trade their toil, their effort, their memories for just a handful of brownie points. And conversely, that they can be so easily bribed to sacrifice their sweat and their time for points on an arbitrary scale. The fear is in the comparison of one's "contributions" to one's organization against another's. The more points, the greater the contribution. It's been reduced to that.

Under the old PEARLS system, kids didn't seem to join activities for fun, or because there was a new skill to be picked up, or new friends to be made. Considering the frantic contacts I received today -- "I need points for...;" or, "you forgot to add points for...;" or "don't I get points for...?" -- it seems like it's all about the points. The first response we got when we proposed activities was, "how many points will we get for that?" Honestly speaking, is that all kids want? No wonder they feel short-changed so often. Summing experience into points may work well for RPGs, but that's just too cheap in real life.

But PEARLS dies this year. Our current juniors no longer have the restriction of wondering if their activities are going to be worth how many points because the sum will always add up to zero! Now they can't compare which activity is "better" or "more prestigious" than another. CCA advisors won't have to fret over whether organizing one kind of activity goes against the kids' interests because another type would yield more points due to some technicality in an ever-changing rulebook.

Freedom will breed chaos, no doubt about that. There won't be a convenient point-ranking system that easily predicts who deserves what and so rewarding people can become a real nightmare for the decision-makers. But the Best cannot always be determined in this way. Take for example, last year's Farewell Assembly Arts Faculty Representative, Sarab. On a strict point system, let's just say he wasn't exactly a model student. But the situation called for a personable, charismatic, engaging, humorous personality with a knack for story-telling and with his feet firmly planted between his studies and work experience (and NO points for any of these qualities, though he probably picked up a couple of demerits for them, haha!), and there he stood out from the crowd. He may have eschewed the "system" but when a niche opened up, he fit the bill perfectly; and he gladly took the job and in that capacity delighted the Class of '04 that day.

People don't seem to like chaos much, though. No doubt after a while some control-freak in the future will decide to reintroduce points back into the system and the wheel will turn once again. Let's breathe in the freedom gratefully while it lasts.

Edit 01:
Was made to take certain measurements today. Not all results are in yet, but comparing my scores in relation to everyone else's so far, I doubt that there is anyone left who can challenge my title of "fattest man in the Department." Yeah!

Horribly disappointing game, posting my lowest scores so far in competition. Average has been steadily declining to an abyssmal 130 since the previous game in the tourney. No morale to talk about that any more. Bleh.

We had another 'Department sharing' at the Colbar this afternoon, before moving our party to the Ministry HQ for a formal seminar with distinguished guest, Prof T Koh, S'pore's most famous personality in our diplomatic affairs abroad. We also had another guest speaker, Dr K P Tan, but Koh was the man I had come to listen to.

As Koh spoke on our national history from the point-of-view of foreign eyes, I began drawing parallels between Singapore and Cafe Rene, the little food & beverage + "entertainment" establishment in occupied France featured in BBC's hit sit-com, 'allo 'allo.

The story of our international history revolves mostly around our one strategy that keeps us all alive and as an independent entity in this dog-eat-dog world: make friends with EVERYONE, great or small.

Cafe Rene operates and survives the German occupation in WWII in very much the same way. It opens it's doors to all and sundry and services everyone according to their needs. It is the one place where ordinary German soldiers, the maniacal Gestapo, ordinary French peasantry, the French resistance, the British Secret Service, and the Royal Air Force rub shoulders with each other every day and everyone still leaves alive and in one piece.

The harried proprietor, Rene Artois, is chiefly responsible for keeping the warring factions from tearing each other apart in his cafe, and he does this mostly by ensuring that their personal business interests stay alive every time they visit. The Germans entrust him with loot which they intend to sell for a large profit after the war; the local resistance gets him to acquire supplies and execute their mad plans against the Germans; he keeps 2 fugitive British airmen hidden in various 'secret' locations in the cafe; and the Secret Service agent helps coordinate anti-German activities in the cafe. Anyone who wants entertainment can always stuff cheese into their ears before the cafe diva delivers another badly-rendered cabaret song (paralleling the state of Singaporean entertainment culture at this time, I think); or if more intimate female companionship is preferred, there's always Yvette who comes with (no pun intended) her own flying helmet and a stick of celery.

Rene himself is under incredible stress trying to keep everybody happy while dealing at the same time with his own personal life that's falling apart at the edges. But unlike the other French peasants who get 'taken outside and shot' on a whim (both Germans forces and French resistance are equally trigger-happy) this fate is unlikely to befall him (actually it happens more than once but he finds a way to escape every time) as he proves himself useful to each faction, and he occasionally earns a small profit from his adventures as well.

Apparently, our foreign affairs department is likewise busy making friends all around the world, enticing them with trade or alliances in order to tie their fortunes with ours. As long as other countries pin their economic hopes on this "little red dot," and we do indeed make their dreams come true, that above all will be our major selling point, our key to survival.

To follow another analogy, the world is like a playground in which the players comprise both big guys and little guys. While we are busy making nice with the big boys in the playground, at the same time we're making friends with the other little 'uns so that if one of the big boys happens to turn nasty, there'll be the others who'll keep him in check, else all the little 'uns gang up with us and collectively our gang isn't as easy to pick on as if we were sitting isolated in a corner far away from everyone else. It's not easy being on everybody's side, but it's worked for us so far.

Service the rich, enrich the poor. Respect the strong, strengthen the weak. The people in the uppermost echelons of our society do this, so why can't we at the bottom follow suit?

I missed the PM's NDay Rally speech on TV this year, but I found the transcripts and poured over them today. A number of items he touched on seems to have been things we've experienced or at least discussed over the last few days. Uncanny.

Let's begin with the call for a "service culture" here. Generally speaking, we don't have one. June went through a number of potential venues to hold her weekend celebration but turned down her #1 choice because the staff she discussed the event with had no clue about putting their customer's needs first. The ambiance may have been gorgeous; the location had some real memories for us; the menu was irresistible; but when it came to actually serving the customer, the staff went strictly by the book and refused to make allowances for a custom arrangement which was what June was asking for. June took her business elsewhere and put her money on #3 choice instead because it delivered much better service.

Some local establishments such as Robinson's and Giordano do make it a point to provide friendly service but the idea has yet to catch on. Simply put, it's having the heart to find out exactly what the customer wants and filling that need because there is a genuine desire to please the customer. As a result, customers are more than happy to spend because not only do they get what they want, they have made a new relationship in the process. What really turns people off is when shop/restaurant staff (and Management) put money first and people second: "No we don't serve ice-water. Would you like mineral water instead?"

Mike and Angela who run The Pitstop epitomize genuine service, taking the trouble to make friends first even before asking how they may be of service. The food they serve up is reasonably priced, yet prepared and delivered with care and with pride. And I'll keep going back there just because they are also animal friendly, a trait sadly missing from our me-first Singaporean culture.

Genuine innovation and enterprise likewise stem from the ability to see or even engineer human needs, then stepping in to fulfill them. It's pointless trying to do something clever and then discover that no one has a use for it. Innovating for the sake of innovation led to ice-cream pratas (yuck!) and dyed-to-a-radioactive-green nasi lemak. Who really cares? On the other hand, Osim products directly target a specific market with specific needs -- people who are tired out from work, who have aching muscles and knotted tendons -- needs met = profitable company. Of course, there are other uses for these same products that are unmentionable in these PG-rated pages, but it goes to show that throwing in 'extras' and being generous to the customer usually pays off handsomely in the end.

Then the issue of keeping the older worker employed has hit home hard. I am now 40, the stage where in theory I'll need to retrain as a toilet cleaner or a McUncle if I had to find another job; given that at present hiring preference for better-paying jobs tends to go towards the younger, healthier, better-looking applicants. This situation is a reality for June whose company is folding up and though she isn't 40 yet, she is past 35 and that's cutting things a bit too close for comfort. As our population is undeniably aging it does make sense for us old(er) people to be resilient and continue learning new tricks, but HR departments will also have to lose their chronological biases as they face the reality of getting increasingly older applicants for their job vacancies.

So the PM's telling us that we are facing some pretty serious problems right now, but we can solve them if we can make the necessary changes to our system. That means Education will have a major part to play in unlearning old habits and modi operandi that served us well in the past, and groom the next batch of little gremlins first to be more humane in their outlook on life which is the immediate need for our immediate future. Now, that'll be a new trick for us to learn.

If any of you have been induced to vomit over the saccharine-sweet nonsense I've been filling these pages with over the last few weeks, I'm glad to say enough's enough and it's time for the old grouch to return. After a heady weekend culminating in an uncharacteristically euphoric climax and blissful denouement, there's nothing like a Monday morning to smack you in the face with a reality check:

Strike One!
As soon as all essay scripts have been marked and recorded, a new batch of comprehension scripts arrive fresh and ready for yet another round of assessment. 2-week deadline, as I understand. Right.

Strike Two!
Bowling total crap again as our afternoon training wore on. Yee's still sick, Anthony sustained a very bad ankle injury over the weekend and had to be verbally thrown off the lanes so he can rest and recover. Vince and I are throwing wild again leaving simple spares unconverted for a pretty depressing 120-140 average respectively. And the tournament is set for this Thursday. Good luck, Gutter Boyz!

Strike Three!
And I feel really bad that after all the wonderful things June did for me over the weekend, today news came from her Head Office in the US that they're closing the local office here. She'll be looking for new employment once the formalities of winding up the business are complete, maybe by the end of the year. As a result, could there be another lifestyle change in the works for us in the coming months? We'll see, won't we?

We can only live one day at a time...

Couldn't wait to test the new toy the staff-room folks chipped in to get me. The equipment is gorgeous but the quality of the photographs still depends a lot on the skill of the photographer so the "Delete" button is still the most useful function so far. Nevertheless, here's a couple of shots from last night's event:

Some of the staff-room folks, stalwarts, spouses and dates.

Long-time pals: Mary, Jen and Adrian

And a couple that I took of the in-Laws, nephews and dogs during the short outing we had this afternoon:

More people we're bringing to sample the tranquility of Upper Seletar Reservoir.

The dogs get an airing as well.

BTW, The Pitstop is now open only on weekends, in case you're interested to try out the food. You should.

And finally, to test night-shooting capabilities I took this pic of Momo in near darkness:

Apart from Momo's scary eyes, night-shooting seems to work just fine!

A magnificent gift, thanks, guys!

Am now trying to collect pix off other cameras floating around last night. Amy and Gerald, care to d/l me shots for my collection?

Anything I say will be incriminating, but verbalisation is necessary. So like a band-aid over a wound on a hairy limb has to be ripped off quickly, so the following must be immediately made known to all:

I've been lied to, cheated and manipulated by my wife, and all my friends who have colluded with her are equally culpable of some very high-quality deception. Like a lamb to the slaughter, I have over the past 3 weeks been pushed, prodded and shoved into inviting myself to my own surprise birthday party. The effort to make such elaborate and extravagant plans AND keep the whole thing from me must have been Herculean for everyone, though I must also admit that I have been quite a Magoo the whole time too.

As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength, eighty years.... (Psalm 90:10)
If I consider myself an individual with the additional quality of "strength" then the occasion marked the half-way point of my life-expectancy, according to biblical best-case-scenario. And it was truly a surprise to see so many well-wishers giving me their support and encouragement in the last few hours as I topped the crest and began my descent over-the-hill. Thank you folks so much!

To mi familia, we've kept it tight, and we've kept it together. My early years have been a source of anxiety and uncertainty for you, but tonight you got to see that despite everything, you can be rest assured that I am in the good, safe hands of people who care about me as much as you ever did.

My in-Laws, you've done a great job in raising your daughter who has so much love to give that I'm discovering every day there's always more where it came from.

Adrian, Lay Lee, Jen, Mary, Malcolm (and darling little Janice), you bridged a gap for me where at one time you were as large as my circle of friends went. You are the professional, working people I've kept in touch with but you are also people of vision and ideals which your busy-work never got in the way of. That's what I've always admired about you.

Tina, artist, muse and teacher and the link to my aesthetic self, sad to say that when the realities of love and marriage hit home, the arts were the first to be sacrificed in favour of bread-and-butter responsibilities. I ran away from the circus and gave up my dreams, but I found a new reality in which I can be just as happy in. See you back in rehearsal sometime!

Joyce, you never knew those many years ago what you wrought when you inadvertently put June and me together. You were the fulcrum of the turning point in my life and I am truly grateful to you for your thoughtfulness.

Colleagues, friends, playmates: The Gutter Boyz (Anthony, Vince, Yee), Gerald with Kim and little Edward, NBS, JY, Mel, Luanne, you make work so unlike work. We bitch, we rib, we gossip, we sweat, we compete, we eat together and we really know how to have unabashed, unadulterated, uninhibited fun. I couldn't ask for better working partners.

Party coordinators: Amy and Weng, June and everyone else recount the stress and effort you took over the event. How much fetching and carrying you did to get the logistics set up just right; the scoldings you received for the security breaches you committed though it's understandable that considering the many things you were juggling small mistakes were bound to occur; and the thought you and Vince, Anthony and Wendy put into the right theme, setting and atmosphere to make the occasion so memorable. Special thanks to all of you.

And to the CEO of Party Central, my wife, June, you have a knack for surprises and every year tops the previous. You know me so well and you know how to put that knowledge to good use. It's not just the effort of the last 3 weeks that brought everyone together but rather it's been my life with you these last 5 years that's why everyone could come together on this day to celebrate. If you haven't been keeping in touch with everyone faithfully as you have been, the guest-list would have been much shorter due to forgetfulness and neglect, which I admit is my most major character flaw. You make up for my shortcomings and I knew from the start I married the right woman. I love you!

I love all your gifts. I have never made such a haul since my first childhood, and you have outdone yourselves in generosity. But rather than itemize the gifts, I will say that the memory of your presence will always be the more precious to me. Gadgets wear out, wearables eventually become unwearable, food and other perishables er... perish, but you were there for me, and that memory is something we will share together in my mind as well as yours. That's what counts.

And special thanks to the Drama Club who postponed the Senior's Farewell BBQ till next week so that tonight's festivities could go on as planned.

Now I have to ask, what have I done to deserve such favour from all of you? And the crickets chirp in the darkness of the empty cinema hall...

Thanks, everyone, for a brilliant 40th swing 'round the sun!

Edit 01:
Amy is right. There's no need for me to question what I do or do not deserve. The simple truth is, my friends are nice people and the question takes away so much from their good intentions. I see that now, and I won't bring it up again. Now that's a biblical insight worth gaining.

Was appointed Designated Driver to take aged parent (mom) to cousin's farewell party. Cousin is leaving for England on a 5-year apprenticeship in organ grinding building and repair. There are only 2 such apprenticeships offered by H. & H. every year so cousin's off to learn the ropes and become the only guy licensed to service the pipes at the VCH, the Durian, and 9 other locations in Singapore when he takes over from the current one upon his return.

He's one fella who has made a mid-life career switch -- he worked in Education until recently -- and has given it up to pursue his personal esoteric dream. Our family Christmas parties will suffer now that there's no one left of his calibre to play the keyboard to accompany our carrolling. Oh well, the neighbours will just have to put up with it for a while.

Spent much of the evening watching a ping-pong discussion between Architect Uncle and Pipe Organ Cousin over organ mechanics and specs. Usually eyeball rolling subject matter but cousin has such passion for it that I was rolling my eyeballs right-left-right instead of up-up-comatose.

If you have a pipe organ that needs maintenance in 5 years' time, I can pass on his contact.

Thanks to June and her magical efficiency we've got our tix to fly and room in BKK so now we need to get the proper personal admin done. Leave applications have to go out to our respective Heads, and NS overseas notification needs to be submitted. A few clicks online should do it. And then we wait.

Meantime, life goes on. M2 met Eddie again for his bi-monthly grooming. I've been quite lazy with M2, and you can tell. Dusty exterior, floor mats full of bits of grass and other vegetation dragged in by an assortment of feet, white dog and cat fur that stand out so conspicuously from the carbon black leather upholstery, dashboard turning slowly greyish under an accumulation of street dust.

I knew Eddie would faint when he saw the extent I would be pushing his grooming service, so I didn't hang around for another round of lectures on proper car maintenance procedures. I parked, took out my bowling ball from the trunk, tossed the key to Eddie then walked very quickly towards Orchid Bowl for a round of "secret" training.

I decided not to pick up a new 13 pounder for the time being but since the competition is next week I had to reacquaint myself with my 11 quickly. Did reasonably well with the lighter ball so I should still be able to continue using it for another while more. I'll be glad to save the $200+. Never know when another major expense might become unavoidable. Heh.

By the time I went back to collect M2, Eddie was just putting the finishing touches on the rear-view mirror. He'd done a great job, as always. Shiny exterior, polished upholstery and dashboard components, spotlessly vacuumed mats; enough of a morale boost good for a couple of days, at least. With my luck it'll probably rain tomorrow, but I'm used to that already.

As soon as I arrived, Eddie saw his chance to close shop and go home. "Just in time!" he said, then promptly skipped off. No time to harangue neglectful driver then. Saved by the bell!

Making further plans for BKK. Now we've got Wendy helping us look for options for flight and hotel. Guess it's really going to happen so I'm going to mentally prepare myself. Fodor's, Lonely Planet and other travel guides are going to be my Required Reading for now. Maybe I'll even schedule some time to hang out at the little Thai supermarket downstairs to absorb atmosphere, examine (and sample?) the contents of those intriguing bottles and jars on the shelves, and to listen to people speaking Thai to see if I can make any sense of it.

Actually I'm quite reasonably well travelled. I've just not visited my back door before. Maybe I'm overreacting?

Edit 01:
Temporarily interrupted. June came in to boot me off the PC so she could surf the Tiger Airways website in search of a better deal than the one we received earlier today. Indeed, air tix and accommodation do seem somewhat cheaper if we book through our local budget airline.

June and I called Amy and put her on speakerphone so we could discuss these new possibilities. Such animation, such excitement in our voices as we struggled with the arithmetic involved in figuring out which were our more financially viable options. Now it's up to Vince and HP whether these new rates and schedules are acceptable to them.

Considering how psyched my travelling companions are about this trip, maybe what I'm planning to do isn't such an overreaction after all.

A historic occasion for June: I'm actually considering taking a trip to BKK with her. Call me prejudiced, spoiled, whatever, I have yet to be convinced that there is any attraction there for me to enjoy. Shopping? I don't even shop here. Tourist attractions? Puh...leeze. Beach? BKK is landlocked, no beach in sight. Food? The less my stomach encounters spicy, sour cuisine, the better it is for the sewer system. Beautiful exotic women? Umm... let's just say that I become a tongue-tied nitwit just facing ordinary local women already. Imagine what an exotic beauty could do to me (let me clarify: you're supposed to imagine the worst case scenario, ok?).

Yeah, ok. Very stereotypical view of what the Thai capital might offer me. On her first trip, June immediately wanted to go home, but she stuck around (no flights available for the next six hours, probably) and fell in love with the place. No telling that I might do the same too. Or not. But I'll never know until I try, ain't that right?

Much as I prefer travelling alone, in order to convince me to go where I've always resisted going, I feel better going with the right company. June, of course, but she's got her objectives locked in already so I'm going to need others around with perhaps other more diversified interests so at least I can keep my own options open. Who's signing up for this little cross-border jaunt? Well, let's take down a few names and see, shall we...?
1. Amy
2. Vince
3. HP
Think the list is just about full. How about it, Anthony? Wendy?

I haven't handled a 13-pounder since NSF days but I actually found one that fit my fingers at SAFRA this evening. Since Amy bought an 11-pounder for herself and my own 11-pound throws have been going wild these last few games, I theorized that I needed a heavier ball for better control. My 1st game with the house 13 went just fine: 155. Then in subsequent games I started throwing inconsistently again. Scores were still ok, though: ranging from the 130s to 160.

So now I have a decision to make: do I have to get a new ball because my current one is too light for me? If I do, do I get a 13, or heavier? How much will a new ball improve my game? And what is to become of my current 11-pounder? June says she'll take it over as long as we seal up the current holes and re-drill new holes for her fingers, but my poor ball will look horribly disfigured if we do.

Also, budget-wise I don't have that kind of cash to spare right now. I promised myself an austerity drive for the next couple of months just to make my bank account look a little healthier than it is now. Ha ha.

Dinner afterwards found us at the last coffee shop on Casuarina Road, ostensibly to share a couple of noodle dishes amongst Anthony, Wendy, Vince, Amy, June and yours truly. But the crabs looked irresistible so we ordered 2 of the Sri-Lankan variety, one steamed and the other in chilli. Big suckers they were, lots of meat and full of flavour. Wonder if crabs, like oysters, taste best in months that don't have the letter 'R' in their names, i.e., May, June, July, August? These fellas sure sustained the theory.

On the way home from dinner, M-i-L called while I was driving and asked for the Animal Rescue Squad to spring back into action. One of her neighbours had picked up a Pomeranian stray and, mistaking M-i-L's flat for an animal shelter, left the poor boy-boy with her. She in turn called us, knowing our reputation for animal philanthropy.

He turned out to be slightly bigger than Mimi, but a lot friendlier. Our idea was to bring him back to our place and keep him till we could find a good home for him. This turned out easier than we expected. There was a cute teenage girl hanging out with her cute boyfriend in the exercise area on M-i-L's void deck. June immediately went into her sales-pitch mode and after some exploration of the girl's options, allowed her to play with him. Sold. 'nuff said.

Just as we were bidding the new "family" farewell, the dog though he would demonstrate his affection for me by humping my leg. One quick extrication later and June and I fled for the M2 before anyone could change their minds.

Good deed done for the day!

Utterly boring day with very little activity. So boring and I have so little to report that I'll just make a short comment on my marking of essay assignments so far: Either I'm getting more generous, or the kids are writing better, more thoughtful essays. No failures so far, and a handfiul of actually logical, readable scripts that seem above the usual average I'm used to marking. Maybe a whole weekend is too generous a time limit for them to get a short essay done?

Other than that, 3 hours of CSI (thanks, AXN!) on a Sunday night and my eyes feel like they've been burned out of their sockets.

Oh, and June's acquired her own set of Uno cards and she's practicing for a rematch. Guess who her sparring partner is? Ouch...! *nurses bruised ego.

Went browsing around Suntec City in the early evening and found a little chocolatier called, "Royce'," a brand of Japanese chocolate. The outlet is run by a Japanese lady proprietor who freely hands out samples from behind her counter. It was love at first bite for June. Just a tiny piece of dark chocolate on a toothpick packs enough flavour to fill the whole mouth with rich, chocolatey goodness; and it melts readily on the tongue, almost instantly turning into its molten state, so creamy and smooth flowing down into the bottomless pit we like to call the stomach.

It's not cheap, obviously, but it was hard to resist. June bought a standard bar of dark for $6.40 and with a little persuasion got me to purchase their signature product which they keep stored under refrigerated conditions at roughly double the price. Because the latter requires refrigeration, for the ride home it comes wrapped together with a slab of dry ice in a heat dissipating cooler bag. They warn that the packaging is only good for 5 hours transit time, so it's best to save chocolate buying for the last stop before going home. Mmm... chocoholics unite! But save a few pennies first, ok?

Immediately after, we did the most appropriate thing to follow up. A quick drop off into our home refrigerator first, then we sped off for the evening screening of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

The movie's a visual treat, full of colour and quirky designs. Willie Wonka seems to be the Michael Jackson of the candy industry, that is, his isolation from societal norms rather than his penchant for having kids stay over to jump on his bed.

As Wonka evaluates his 5 guests for the big prize, he lets them eliminate themselves by providing opportunities for them to indulge in their particular "deadly sin." The kids represent gluttony (Goop), pride (Beauregarde), avarice (Salt) and wrath (Teavee), but Charlie is the most well-adjusted of the lot because his family balances him out. Wonka, himself, has a troubled past and Charlie eventually helps him to see that love isn't just a chocolate-induced endorphin rush to the brain.

What we have here is quite a fun movie to watch. It's got Burton's dark-whimsy touch all over it which I like. Still, it's not one of those movies that make me feel I want to get the DVD for my library either. Once is enough, I think.

I'm not sure what to make of Romero's Land of the Dead. It's not exactly horror, though the Dead could have used better table manners. It's not comedy because it wasn't funny. It's not quite action either as the plot moved at the pace of the undead shuffle.

Perhaps I approached this movie with the wrong expectations. I wanted thrills, scares and a sustained atmosphere of suspense, but this wasn't the kind of movie to deliver that kind of thing. It's hard to feel scared of the Dead right from the opening sequence. They walk around in their little suburban town trying to recapture the lives they had lost. A Dead couple holds hands as they take a midnight stagger through the city square, Dead musicians manipulate their instruments though they have lost their skill to play them, and the Dead gas station attendant makes himself busy with his gas pump. And, oh, the wistful look in their eyes as they struggle to recapture old forgotten memories while they "pretend they are still alive..." There's nothing else for them to do anyway.

Then enter the Living on their motor-bikes, trucks and jeeps shooting up the town, randomly gunning down Dead bystanders in order to loot supplies (food, medicines, etc.) that the Dead will never use anyway. Is it any wonder then that the Dead gas station attendant who witnesses this carnage suddenly erupts in rage and snags a rifle from one of the raiders of his fair neighbourhood and eventually learns to use it?

The Dead are supposed to be mindless creatures who exist only to eat living flesh, but this Dead hero develops the ability to communicate with his fellow Dead, grows his Dead army, and learns to improvise a revenge attack on the Living, nestled safely behind the electric fences surrounding their city.

Yes, the Dead learn to use tools (all the better for breaking Living heads open with), they learn to follow a leader (they become a real political entity), they learn to teach new skills to one another, and more importantly, they learn to yearn for a patch of space they can call their own without the indiscriminate incursion of the Living anytime they suka-suka.

In fact, every character in this movie embarks on a quest for a home. The rich make their home in a swanky skyscraper and act like the poor, let alone the Dead, don't exist. The poor, hemmed in by their protective fence, want to upgrade or be free of their claustrophobia once and for all by just heading North.

I guess it's not so much a horror movie as it is a morality play, then. What do you call home? How far will you go to acquire turf? How prepared are you to defend what's yours? Haha! Maybe we could commission a screening of this movie for next years' Total Defence Day activity?

You know you've finally settled into a place when mealtime comes around and, if you find yourself eating alone, you feel like something is missing from your life.

I'm such a different person today from the person I was 7-8 years ago. Back then I could only lunch alone 'cos I couldn't stand anyone crowding out my lunch hour, my sanctuary time away from the buzz of people's gossip, demands and to-do lists. I just had to get out of the office and run as far and as fast as I could away, and hope to goodness that I don't bump into anyone I might vaguely know on the way out. If so, at best there would be a small delay as we exchanged pleseantries, at worst I might end up with a lunch companion, in which case I would try to rush back and hide behind my PC and get back to busy work as soon as lunchbreak was over. There; I've just admitted to having some very deep-rooted anti-social issues, so yeah, I'm nuts. Sue me.

It was a very different feeling when I was walking towards the M2 leaving for a late lunch when I saw Anthony pulling into the parking lot with NBS and Amy in tow having just finished their's. It's the kind of feeling that forces the lower lip outwards to protrude beyond the upper. Not a particularly pleasant sensation. So the pendulum has swung the other way, to the complete opposite extreme, and that only goes to show that I'm still nuts.

Thank God it's only Monday's time table that puts me in isolation from the rest of the staff room. The rest of the week I can be a normal sociable individual and do the lunch thing with people, so it's not so bad.

What all this tells me is that I do have an emotional stake in my workplace now, something the drifter in me of many years ago never had. I have found a roost after all and like it or not, for better or for worse, NY has become a home to me. And, God help me, I don't want to leave.

Today we met Saul, Vince's friend and the closest thing to a guide we could get who knew his way around the area Vince wanted to get his car done up at. Amy, June and I accompanied them just for the heck of it and did some mall pounding while we were there. Vince's car needed some time in the shop so Saul taught June and me to play Uno (we a bit suaku lah, ok?) from the set he had just bought. In the evening, Vince made good his promise to June and with Saul's help brought us to have Bak Kut Teh (June still remembers KL) by the side of a road over a smelly drain. Actually what was promised was the bak kut teh, the drain was a bonus. 'nuff said.

M-I-L couldn't go to the Parade this year, so we grabbed her tix in exchange for a flurry of errands we ran for her this morning. We finally made it here and are now baking in the afternoon sun waiting for things to start happenin'.

It's a sea of red and the crowd is going a little crazy with the toys stuffed into this year's funpacks. Amongst the noisemakers, waving objects and nightlights, I found a fashion rubber band. Blue with the inspiring motto, "Keep Singapore Litter-Free." I'll never take it off my wrist again... :P

Most shots I had to take while there was still daylight. My digi-cam is total crap when it comes to night shots. These airborne blokes are making us dizzy with their spiral patterns as they jump out of a chopper and try to land in the middle of the Padang. Some people will do anything for an NDP ticket.

The F16 squadron executing a perfect "Bomb-burst" maneuvre. Military hardware is best put to use in peacetime as crowd entertainment devices. No one really wants to use them as they were designed. Let's keep it that way.

Standard NDP postcard shot. This is the cue for everyone to rise and sing the National Anthem.

Fireworks is one of the hardest shots to make on a digi-cam. Especially at night. There is so much lag between the time the cam focus locks to the opening of the apature that the big bang's usually over and all you've got is a picture of empty night sky. So here's a shot of a bunch of rockets going up. Don't complain.

Don't also ask about all that other stuff in the middle of the show. I know perfectly well what I came to the Padang to see, and you're looking at it.

Happy 40th, Singapore!

Guess who scored last-minute tix to the Parade? Or rather, guess which couple 2 tix found to take to the Parade? Having a M-I-L who's a member of a grassroots organization has it's advantages!

Aha! Now I know what bugged me most about "Pagoda Street." It's a rich boy's idea of what being down and out in Singapore is like. The lack of research and effort to make the characters more believable and using these caricatures as a vehicle to showcase "Singapore" is particularly irksome.

OK. Maybe I should lighten up about the whole thing. It's entertainment, after all; but how many of us felt the same way when The Amazing Race came to town and the face that represented us on international TV turned out to be "Poo Koo Kang's?"

Meet our brunch, cheeseburger spilling its innards out onto the plate (L), and fish on a king-sized bed of chips (R). Not a bad spread for a dog-friendly place like the les Amis, Botanic Gardens.

Local indegenous wildlife: a large tree spider whose legs are so neatly parted it looks like it only has four rather than the usual eight. The sign is for the tree, not the spider.

And 2 good friends, Mimi (L) and Q-tip (R) take a break after a nice, long walk in the park.

Edit 01:
Later in the afternoon we join hundreds of other dog owners for the Dog Walk at West Coast Park in honour of S'pore's 40th birthday. The crowd in the middle where the flag is surrounds a giant birthday cake that will be distributed to all dogs in the park. Pandan flavoured with bits of cranberry on top. Mimi & Q-tip won't eat their piece though. Pity.

Who else should join the festivities than the Other Presidential Candidate who took the opportunity to meet the people and their dogs. If he's already on the campaign trail, I guess it means there will be an election after all. I haven't see the Incumbent doing anything like this yet. Maybe he's taking things too easy?

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!