For once in many moons my study is clear of junk. I can see the floor again! I can put my feet on my desk and not worry that things will topple over! You didn't need to know that, I'm sure.

Spent the whole day bagging very old correspondence, periodicals and other non-print resources, taking the committment to systematically dump every item I hadn't needed to use in more than a year, apart from just a few items of particular sentimental value -- gifts from students, friends and wife.

I trashed old PC magzines and their accompanying CD-ROMs, and I've sorted out all the PC games I'm no longer playing and replaced the disks with their manuals in their proper boxes, and now, I wonder, if anyone out there might want to inherit some old PC games from me? Let's see what I have...

Broken Sword: The Sleeping Dragon
Freelancer
Jedi Knight: Jedi Outcast
Jedi Knight: Jedi Academy
Silent Hill 3
Metal Gear Solid 2 (PC DVD-ROM version)
NFS: Underground
Half-Life: Blue Shift (requires Half-Life to play)
Doom 3 (tough decision, but motion sickness prevents me from playing this ever again)

All these games have given me a lot of joy at one time or another, so they deserve to have good homes now while current systems can still run them. Yeah, I'm offering all these games for free on a first chope first served basis, so leave a comment if you see something you want. I've also got some obscure old, old games as well. Inquire if interested.

With June's help the floor is clean, the sofa-bed and the bean-bag are wearing fresh upholstery, and the old animal hair-ridden carpet has been replaced with a brand new one. My desk and Watson have been wiped down and my bookshelf tidied. For a day's work, I think we did good. Now my study is in a fit state to receive guests at Chinese New Year. Don't forget to bring your hongbao!

Blogger is acting funny tonight. I can't seem to get in. Wonder if anyone else is having the same problem or if Watson's not feeling well again. For the last couple of days, Watson's 'net connection especially with blog-related sites has been very slow and it's been getting worse and worse. Hope the problem's with Blogger and not Watson. I can't afford to overhaul him as often as I did before.

I said I wanted to run GP classes according to my schedule, but that's becoming untenable given the little time we have that's quickly running out. Either that or I need to relook my schedule and decide if I'm conducting my course strictly on storytelling or if it's going to be geared towards group oral presentations because I really don't have time to make a smooth transition from one to the other.

Because of the upcoming competition, I'm rushing through my plan to practice the kids in storytelling. I'm cutting corners, burning bridges and the results, if today is anything to go by, are going to be a complete mess.

I tried to do too much today. First a brief narration of a childhood memory using a rough sketch of an object symbolic of the incident. Not to say that the 2 volunteers' stories were uninteresting. On the contrary, both speakers had quite harrowing childhood memories to relive with us. One recalled being robbed at GUNPOINT in her home on Christmas day, the other related quite a disastrous trip up Mt Ophir involving lots of painful accidents and spirit possessions for the different members of his climbing team.

We then had a very sketchy discussion of what qualities a good speaker and a good audience should have, then I distributed a bunch of hastily copied folktales to 6 workgroups and told them to prepare a group presentation inspired by a story of the groups' choice. I forgot that preparation for such a narration involving planning, teamwork and much rehearsal needed more time than the half-hour I allocated.

I had hoped (and I did tell them so) that they may use their imaginations and in the best possible way present their stories as a team, i.e., involving everyone as a presenter. I had expected a variety of formats -- press interview or talk-show involving the main characters, a debate disputing the "moral of the story," or a role-play or something. Everyone opted for the role-play (simplest option, right?). As a result,when the groups eventually presented, I had to concern myself with pointing out basic concepts of theatrical presentation and what I wanted to focus on -- group presentation dynamics, confidence building and speaking without relying on a written script -- went out the window.

I simply wanted to do too much today, did more than I had planned for, and diluted everything in the process. One step forward, two steps back. Oh, bugger.

Although my alarm clock rang at 5:30 this morning, sunlight was already pouring through my window and I knew the worst had happened. I jumped to check June's clock and, yep, it was 7:15, no way to make it to assembly on time. Standard procedure is to notify Vince who agreed to help me take attendance for my CT. Fine.

CT rep was overjoyed that Civics Tutor was not available to take attendance personally and with much enthu marked off the register on my behalf. Great!

I arrived and gave my first tutorial of the day to a very lively Arts group. Then it was time for GP with my CT. Apart from one earnest China scholar, the room was empty. She was as mystified as I was over the whereabouts of her mates. No prizes for guessing where they were: chillin' out in the canteen, CT rep having declared my absence from campus thus no tutorial for the day. The pronouncement was premature, but an understandable mistake, given the circumstances.

By the time they sheepishly arrived for tutorial, half an hour had gone already so GP had to stretch right into CT period to make up for lost time. And I was so looking forward to playing Pictionary too.

The CT tried to appease me with an uneaten apple and some candy. Quick thinking on their part. Humph.

I have since changed the battery on my alarm clock so this mistake isn't likely to happen again, right?

I was in such a hurry to get to college this morning I forgot about popping by 7-11 to get a jar of peanut butter 'n jelly (PBJ) for the EL potluck lunch. Just as well, it probably wouldn't have gone with anything the others brought. Nirm's chicken curry, Lucy's home-made corned beef buns (so professionally done they looked store-bought), and unidentified sources brought the veggie samosas, fruit (including tiny oranges that were meant to be eaten with their skins on), Cadbury's Caramello and Vanilla ice-cream topped with strawberry and chocolate sauce, agar jelly, and rolled chocolate wafers. Ate and ran, though I really should have helped out with the cleanup. I don't have an excuse, I can be horribly thoughtless at times.

Today marks this year's annual X-country run at MacRitchie. A day where everybody gets all hot and sweaty and congratulates each other for completing the 4.2km course. Except, of course, for the unhealthy and infirm, e.g., yours truly, who spent most of the run confined to the cafe on top of the hill overlooking the reservior.

In the number of years I've attended this annual event, this is the first time the cafe was actually open and I could buy a vanilla coke to occupy me till the races were over. My fellow invalids sat with me and we spent a pleasant afternoon together in the great outdoors.

Really, if I could get medical clearance to run, I would. There's a trophy for the staff race every year, and how difficult would it be to finish in the top 6? If I was allowed to run, I'm certain this would be an attainable goal, and my desk is due for another display of glitter, if only...

Am proud of fellow pegasii, Lynnette and JY, who finished 5th and 6th in the staff women's race respectively and can now decorate their desks with their trophies. But X-country isn't a House event this year. The Championship is awarded to CCA groups instead. This year, the Championship was a clean sweep by our canoeists in both Guys and Girls team categories. Looks like they're seriously training for some serious awards this year. Seriously.

After X-country, I went to meet June at GV, PS to make use of my 2 comp tix to tonight's preview screening of Finding Neverland. I found this invitation in my pigeonhole yesterday addressed to the "Head of Drama Club," so position does have its privileges. Heh.

A very deftly balanced movie playing off the complexities of human relationships: youthful playfulness vs adult pragmatism; human imagination vs human mortality; "pretend" vs reality. It's also a comment on the marketing of public entertainment and how contact with children sometimes unlocks or reawakens the kid in all of us, to believe in and thereby enjoy the things that go far beyond mundane, inevitable reality.

Don't want to spoil the movie talking too much about it, but it is quite a beautiful piece, a bit like what Big Fish was, except not so OTT. Many in the audience developed a case of sniffles watching this movie, so be warned, a pack of tissues might come in handy, especially for the more sensitive of us. No, it may not be a howler but it is an insight into the very ordinary things that go on around us that -- with a little imagination -- transform everyday life into a daily adventure. Cool!

The GP Oral Presentation Contest is one week earlier than I had planned for. The in-tutorial preliminaries should have started this week to short-list the representatives who will represent their CTs in the 2nd round held next week in the LTs during GP lecture slots. This OP contest is intended to be the JC1s' graded assignment for Term 1, thereby giving us an alternative to marking written work by hand and reducing pressure on the new students so that they can enjoy JC life more. Also, it could be a load of fun for everyone.

The OP is to be given without AV assistance, and should be about some significant event that had taken place in recent history that had a significant impact on our lives today. Pretty much anything goes, really, and can be justifiable as such. For example, the development of the i-Pod has changed the way we access music and has led to the problems of piracy and copyright issues. Or the students could talk about changes in censorship laws in Singapore or what a change in PMs might bode for our near future. Whatever. Something happened, and now we live or think or otherwise behave differently from before.

A team of 4-5 members will represent each tutorial group, they'll all slug it out in the LTs next week, and the final 3 teams will compete in the grand finals a couple of weeks before the term ends. There is no set format in which the teams must make their presentations. They may opt for a straight prepared speech, play a skit, conduct an interview, host a talk show, whatever their imagination and creativity leads them to do.

But next week's deadline is very tight for what I had in mind. The first 2 weeks I intended to build confidence in my students. Only subsequently would I have unleashed the full magnitude of their OP obligations on them. I am making good on my promise to focus my tutorials on storytelling first before looking at GP proper and so far the activities and the students' involvement levels during tutorials have been encouragingly positive. Once they all learn to speak confidently and freely share info during tutorials will further lessons actually be engaging and fun. But, now no time , so how?

I don't care. I'm running my carefully thought out plan for my tutorial groups as is, but concurrently I will be training an 'elite' group of speakers to represent their respective CTs, giving them a crash course in research, discussion and presentation skills so they can compete competently next week. That's 'cheating' according to the word of rules governing the contest, but not the spirit. After all, I am obliged to send my best representatives to compete, right? No one should dictate how I am to go about selecting and training them. I wanna win!!!

But regardless of the outcome all my students should by the end of the term be confident speakers so that wherever they go from Term 2 on, they will continue to engage their tutors and each other, supporting each other in their preparation for uni life in the coming years. Well, let's hope I can pull it off.

The staffroom was reasonably sane this morning. A number of people knew about my weekend purchase but they didn't draw too much attention towards it. Only Anthony, Vince and Amy had a short discussion with me to find out the details and to question what I had got for the price I was paying. And they also remarked how disappointed they were that they missed the chance to go test driving with me before I made a final decision. Nothing I can do about the latter, but as for what I actually bought, here goes:

A 1.5l auto Mazda 2 in Brilliant Black. It comes with a 6-piece sports aerokit including a sports front bumper, side and rear skirt air dams and a single piece roof spoiler; 15" sports rims; reverse-gear proximity sensor; a 6-CD front loading changer with steering-wheel mounted controls; a sports leather interior (for $300 extra instead of the full price $650); and remote alarm system.

It's fuel efficient because of its VVT engine which regulates the amount of fuel consumed based on what the car is doing at the moment, and it's safe due to its 4-wheel ABS and dual air bags. It has a versatile rear compartment that can be easily configured to transport passengers or goods as necessary. With the passenger seats completely folded up I could imagine I'm actually driving an SUV. Well, I used to want an SUV before it became fashionable, but now that everyone has one, I can't be bothered with it any more.

Yes, I'm now in debt for a hefty amount. My loan is with OCBC at 2.2% per annum for 7 years (or 84 months), and there are still other per month costs of running a car that I have still got to factor in: gas, parking, ERP, insurance, taxes (road and apparently radio), maintainence... anything I've missed out? I guess I'll be doing my best to remain employed with the Ministry for a long time yet to come. No wonder people can receive 25-year long service awards on Teachers' Day.

I'm gushing, I know. But unless I get the excitement of buying a car out of my system my entries will continue to be as constipated as yesterday's entry. Am I quite done? Uhh... yeah, for today, anyway. Heh.

Right, let's change the subject...

Skipped out on tonight's workshop. Too physically tired from running around in the afternoon with the Drama Club which is being put through the paces of extra physical activity to keep the members' health up during this lull period. We raised a good sweat and even self confessed ball-phobic Mel showed the she could run and throw and catch with the best of us. If this is going to be a weekly Monday event, wonder what's going to happen to my evening workout session -- I'll be too pooped to attend, like tonight. [Hmm... still looks a bit constipated.]

It's hard to find nian gao (sweet, sticky rice cake) in the hand-made variety though the market is full of the factory-made stuff. This popular Chinese New Year snack has gone commercial and the once traditional labour of love has given way to hi-technology, hi-volume, hi-genic distribution this year. We searched our market for the banana leaf-wrapped hand-made nian gao, we scoured Chong Pang market and the market at the Block 260s, but it looks like all the small-scale suppliers have all been wiped out by big business this year. Guess it was just a matter of time. Anyone who has seen hand-made nian gao still being sold please let us know where, ok?

I may have hinted at it, but I never really came out and said it. Over the past week I was researching the web and print materials, sussing out people's opinions and opened discussions with June about it. Yesterday I took a test drive in a 1.3l Getz. Never let anyone say I am indecisive. Today, I just signed my life away for a 1.5l Mazda 2. Oooh, yeah! Zoom-zoom.

It's amazing that when I initially raised the idea of possibly becoming a car owner, June didn't seem too keen. But through the week we've been doing our math, and though I've wiped out a significant part of my savings, I have taken this opportunity to purchase something I had never thought affordable in my lifetime.

It's odd that both June and I have been independently eyeing the M2 for a while already. She took a fancy to it when she saw the display model near her workplace. Me, I've always liked Anthony's Mazda 3 for it's design and driveability but his model I know is way beyond my means, so when the option to examine a lower-end model came up, I was all eyes and ears.

June adapts quickly. From her initial resistance, one week later she's bubbling with excitement over what weekends could be like with our own transport. I guess the biggest winner would be Q-tip who can't come out with us on public transport because of people's intolerance to man's best friend. For me, there're advantages too in terms of convenience but mostly what I'm paying for is independence and direct control over where I'm going and how I'm going to get there.

After looking at the Getz last night, I intended to test a couple of other similar 1.3 to 1.5l models from other manufacturers, such as the Kia Rio and Cerato (a really affordable 1.6l) and the Suzuki Swift but when I got behind the wheel of the M2, I was immediately comfortable in it and it did everything I wanted it to on command so that it really did feel like an extension of myself on the road, unlike the Getz which had to pause to consider what I wanted before taking its time to get it done.

Throughout the drive I felt confident handling the M2. It responded well and it felt stable, controlled and ready to give an added burst of power as the situation required. Even parking (though still needing a bit more practice on my part) wasn't such a problem as yesterday, so it was the drive that really sold me.

Good thing June was with me. She handled the aesthetic decisions while I was only interested in the performance. She chose the colour -- Brilliant Black -- and opted to upgrade the cloth upholstery to sports leather. The sales rep let us do the upgrade at only half the cost as his "freebie" incentive to us. Honestly, I could have made myself difficult and asked for more, but really it's already quite a sweet deal and asking for more would just be asking for the sake of asking.

So, the new 'baby' is due in March. It's taken me to the brink of my 40th year but I've put my money where my mouth is and now I'm ready to join the grown-up world.

A day of running in and out of the house waving at the same neighbour so many times he must have thought we were mad. June’s busy preparing New Year cookies, starting with her highly anticipated pineapple tarts. After breakfast at the coffee shop, we bought 15 pineapples that the fruit shop shelled for us. While waiting, I brought Q-tip back upstairs then ran down again to meet June at NTUC. June was already at the cashier paying for her flour, Planta margarine and peanut oil when I rejoined her. We went back to collect our pineapples, then in our lift lobby we saw a little ginger-ash coloured kitten looking very lost and miaoing very loudly. So we rushed upstairs to dump our shopping, grab a can of sardines and back down again to feed the little thing. Her left eye had been glued shut with a messy eye discharge but thankfully after we cleaned her face up with tissue the eye popped open again and it looked healthy. After she ate we put her up on the top of the mailboxes where she would be safe (no one looks up there) and left her there. We had to look for cinnamon sticks, brown sugar, icing sugar and sea-salt. None to be found in our neighbourhood provision shops, so we went back upstairs to fetch our Transit-Link cards, and came back down again to catch the bus into Central. Before catching the bus, as June was also lacking finely crushed peanuts and didn’t know where to look for them, she had a brainwave and made an arrangement to buy 1kg worth from the peanut pancake auntie when new supplies arrive next week. We got most of everything we wanted from Central, except sea-salt which seems to have disappeared off shelves everywhere. Fine, we can make-do without it for a while. When we finally got home again, June got busy grinding up the pineapples then putting the pulp into the wok to cook over the next week or so. She put cloves into the mixture and she will be adding in the brown sugar and the cinnamon soon.

And sometime in the late afternoon, I test drove a Hyundai Getz. It’s been so long since I drove that I was a bit of an embarrassment to Eric, the nice salesguy. It’s fair to say I had more of a crawl rather than a spin around the block, and my reverse parking was so bad I’m pretty sure Eric really wanted to grab the steering wheel away from me and park it himself. But he kept his cool and eventually talked me through the entire procedure. Walking back to his office, I noticed that he didn’t press me to sign any contracts. Bah!

CT period was supposed to involve team building today. A good idea, since this was the kids' first CT period in the regular time-table. What better way to get some team-building done than by having them run around like mad in the midday sun, shouting and screaming, in a friendly match of captain's ball?

It was a faceoff between my S10D and Anthony's A1. 12 a side. Amy and Vince showed up as spectators in the match. They looked after the stuff in our pockets as both Anthony and I turned out for our respective CTs as opposing catchers in the 2nd half.

Since my CT had PE earlier in the morning they remained in their PE attire while I conducted our GP tutorial in the gallery. It's quite a challenge trying to make myself heard over the din of ambient noise and the construction going on in our quad, but at least the setting was novel. Anthony's group joined us to play on the track in front of the Art Room. I divided my group into 2 halves so everyone could play one half each. Anthony fielded his best team during both halves so, not surprisingly, A1 bt. S10D 10-6.

Whatever. The kids had fun, my CT rep remarking that we should have CT periods like this more often -- they're much more fun than GP. Ooooo....k...

Amy treated Vince to lunch so, instead of eating cheap like we usually do, we went a bit more upmarket. Vince chose BrownBox in Gardens which is a little cafe serving pastries and meaty main courses. And possibly creative desserts. Unfortunately, we were in a bit of a hurry otherwise we might have spent a lazy afternoon there sipping tea but work comes first, I guess.

I had the beef stew with buttered rice. Very peppery stew, which I liked, chunky bits of beef in a neat ring surrounding a semi-sphere of fluffy, grainy rice. The stew was tender with occasional fatty bits (to me this is a good thing) and the rice had a delightful texture and consistency. I would have been happier with less to no butter, though, the butter taste was a bit strong and in the combination of cow meat and rice I didn't really need it.

My drink was an Ice Earl, chilled earl grey tea with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream floating around in it. Odd flavour because the two tastes were very distinct from each other and left my mouth confused as to whether I was sensing bitter or sweet. But after the ice-cream fully melted and settled into the tea the combined flavour reminded me of green tea ice-cream, which again is an acquired taste. It takes some getting used to but it becomes addictive when it is appreciated.

Now I want to try the other stuff on the menu -- roast beef on mash, anyone?

I picked up Basapa's Naked Ambition from Popular yesterday to keep me company on the MRT ride home but Roy was with me so I couldn't read it on the train while he was talking to me. That would have been rude. I have read about half-way through now and for a piece of local writing (I have my biases) this corporate parable is quite readable, though not without its flaws.

I bought the book out of curiosity and also because I thought it would be useful to research possible scenarios that might play out in the script for this year's Drama Night production. We have a corporate setting this year and I hoped to gain some insights into the corporate world through Basapa's eyes.

Basapa lays bare the failings of a large multinational adhesive manufacturing corporation, the problems of which appear to be mainly due to several unsavoury characters whose selfish, unprincipled activities are running the company to the ground. It's these characters that Basapa focuses on, imbuing each with a particular animal trait.

Each chapter exposes a specific character's motivations, personality and survival mechanisms in the corporate jungle. Each character is predatory in some way and the office politics, the maneuvering, the posturing, the hunting of each other and the intimidating, browbeating, bullying and killing off of the weaker opponents add up to quite a fun story to read. If the world really was like this, and in many cases it is, companies large and small are very scary places to try survive in.

There are termites and ferrets, bees and pigeons, dogs and foxes, the mongoose and the king cobra, and a menagerie of other beasts who slug it out on a day-to-day basis to see who can rule the roost longest or who can climb/soar the highest. The competition isn't with rival companies steadily eating away at their market share but rather fellow employees and superiors and even underlings who are more of a threat to personal and immediate survival. The company is simply in trouble because the company isn't fulfilling its raison d'etre; there's too much infighting within its staff to make this important thing happen.

This book is a personal survival manual in the harsh corporate environment. You can use it to identify yourself and your habits, identify who your most immediate predators or competitors are and then work out counter-measures for yourself to ensure you're not someone else's lunch because you weren't careful. Alternatively, this book may also help the organization understand why it's having a hard time in the market and do something about it, to refocus everyone on who the real opponent is, staunch the bleeding and press on with renewed confidence before it's too late. Maybe.

These are human-animal stories, hence they are parables; yet in the telling of a story in which things happen because of some careful plan being put into action, there is also an unfair amount of things conveniently falling into place, or at least lacking in thoroughness of explanation.

Up to a point I really hate this story though I can't tell if it's because the characters are such a bunch of jerks that they all deserve to be lined up and shot or because the narration tends to be didactic with a specific moral accompanying each chapter, like the reader can't derive a personal opinion by himself. Sometimes, the moral doesn't even seem to match its chapter very well.

Anyway, now I know why I left the corporate world and, more importantly, I think I have some ideas for tomorrow's rehearsal.

Where were the women? Charlotte's out of town, Tina's attending a cremation (no kidding!), and the others (whatever their names are)? Maybe bad weather? Busy schedule? Whatever. Tonight found an unusually all-guy group at our Monday workshop and what a testosterone charged workout session it was.

6 guys stretching and toning, curling and uncurling, rolling and unrolling, practicing Tour Eiffels, and playing a couple of improv mime games. Straighten you spine now, move your whole body as a unit, rock gently forward and back, work that inch-below-the-navel, remember to breathe... Now that's a male bonding session -- grrawf! :-P

I guess the longer I stay with this group, the more committed I will be to the open rehearsal production being staged later this year. And why not? After all, if I'm going to head the drama club, I'd better have a production or two to show for it. Practice what I preach or I'm going to lose my credibility sooner or later. And my confidence as well. I want to attach students to theatre companies for work experience, so why should they have all the fun?

Amongst the new faces tonight, it was nice to see Roy again whom I haven't seen in years. He too hasn't been working out with the group for a long time choosing to work mainly on his own. But, as he says, we have to go back occasionally to work with people again or lose sight of our purpose or focus, and to gain new ideas from the interaction of like-minded folks. Nice to hear exactly my thoughts articulated by some other independent individual. It's like confirmation that I should be where I am. Reassuring.

National Stadium was packed but I watched the big game at home. Isn't that just like Singaporeans, turning up in numbers when the chances of victory are high, and not bothering when our team slumps? Fair-weather fans all, me included because my TV was on tonight with me glued to the screen.

OK, so we won 2-1, final aggregate 5-2, quite a convincing scoreline though we might have finished in much better circumstances if Iskander had kept his cool and not have got himself sent off in the dying minutes of the game. After the sending-off fiascoes of the Myanmar and Indonesia (first-leg) games in which we continued playing fair regardless, it's a bit of a let down to see a red-carding of our own player on our own pitch during the final game of the tourney. Captain, some more.

We haven't had much to celebrate over Singapore soccer for a long time so coming up tops in an Asian championship is kinda' sweet, but we're still a long way away from S Korea and Japan. We've done some things right, there's still lots to do left if we want to play entertaining, smooth-flowing, top-notch, goal-scoring soccer, but a win is a win. So let's party our brains out tonight, rest up tomorrow, and start training again on Tuesday.

Congrats, Lions!

To be fair, there isn't much to complain about as far as my life is concerned but if there's one thing I would bitch about is that I've always been and will probably remain transportationally challenged.

Every schoolboy rides a bicycle. At least all my friends did. But Dad wanted to teach me some good values -- the value of money, in particular -- and so I was obliged to save up for my own ride. He had no objections to me having a bike, but I would have to use my own money for it. Until then, after a couple of disastrous attempts at riding pillion, I had to content myself running behind my so-called "best buds'" bikes, at least until air bags became standard safety equipment on two-wheelers.

I never gave up on my dream of owning a bike one day. Back then my daily allowance was a little more than half a dollar, so I put my pennies faithfully into a little savings box anticipating the day my little acorns into big oaks grew. I began my savings plan in Sec 1 and by late Sec 3 I had accumulated just enough to make my scrimping pay off. I got a pretty solid fire-engine red machine for $99 and after a couple of rounds around the block the training wheels came off and I was free, independent and feeling the breeze run through my hair. What a rush!

The euphoria was short lived though. No, the bike didn't get crushed by a passing bus, nothing as dramatic as that. It's just that Sec 4 soon rolled round the corner and I was mostly confined at home to study for the all important 'O' levels. While my mind rotted under the influence of irrelevant textbooks, my bike rusted away through neglect never to be ridden again. The corroded heap was one day sold for scrap and I don't remember receiving any part of the proceeds.

Mom's favourite threat was that if I didn't study, I would never afford a car and would always watch enviously on the sidewalk as all my friends drove past me. I wonder if she could predict 4D numbers with such accuracy? Maybe I should ask her.

I think back to my uni days and the time I passed my driving theory simply because I happened to be accompanying a friend to take his driving test and I happened to be standing in the wrong line while waiting for him. To pass the time I picked up a driving manual and was perusing it at leisure while the line kept pushing me forward and towards the cashier to whom I was too embarrased to protest that I wasn't lining up to pay test fees. So based on what I had flipped through earlier, I took the test and passed. The practical test was even easier: once around the block, one competent parallel park, and "Congratulations, please stand at the wall for your ugly DMV licence photo." I've had my driving licence for years, just no car to go with it.

This no-car thing is a serious handicap to a guy's social life. I can think of potential girlfriends I have lost because of my disability. "Jack's got a car, I think I'll go out with Jack." Or Tony, or Adrian, or Mike, or.... It isn't just the convenience or the status that girls are concerned with, it's that having a car means having grown up, reached adulthood, and being someone other people can depend on rather than being always dependant on the whims of other people or the vagaries of public transport for a ride. That and the given assumption fact that cars are babe magnets.

Guys, if you ever want to get your own car, do it before you get married. Unmarried guy + car = dates :D. The car to the Girlfriend is an essential piece of dating equipment. It's convenient since the guy can make a doorstep pickup without the sweaty trek to the bus-stop; it gets to places fast; it's a showoff item in lieu of The Diamond Ring; it can even be a makeshift makeout spot for the more frisky of us. The Girlfriend loves the car. Besides, if the driver turns out to be a loser, there's always Tony, or Adrian, or Mike... to pick up where the last one left off.

Getting married before getting a car means that it isn't likely that a car will ever be needed, ever. The car to the Wife is a very different animal. The transition from Girlfriend to Wife is caused by a serious dose of pragmatism ingested immediately after cementing (sementing?) committment with the guy. The car becomes an unnecessary drain on financial and temporal resources; a source of potential danger to life and limb; a quick means of escape during domestic disputes; and every Wife knows the threat such a babe magnet can bring to conjugal happiness.

The only hope left for such a guy is to see if the Wife will make the transition into the Mother. Then the car becomes indespensible again. Taking wailing, hyperactive, olfactorily and verbally offensive imps to and from school, ballet and swimming lessons, math and Chinese tuition, soccer practice, Gramma's house and perhaps the occasional token outing to the beach [where one can contemplate walking into the water and just keep going until one reaches Tahiti] by public transport is simply a non-option. It's the car or the bar, baby!

It's either that or at the age of 70 he could go buy a classic red Ferrari on an installment plan. With any luck he would drive it once round the block, parallel park, and breathe his last before the repo guys come to take it away again.

This entry inspired by "Wheels of Fortune" (ST, January 15, 2005.)

AV for today's lecture worked and Vince got to show the pix he'd collected to the Arts group. It was gratifying to hear the audience respond to some of the more disturbing shots, the headless aborted foetus and the vulture eyeing the little starving girl for example. The group demonstrated a knowledge of the content and the context of the pix and there were a few individuals who were able to articulate some pretty cogent views based on what they saw. A generally smart bunch, this group of Year 1s.

We had something special sort of planned for this lecture. "Sort of" because we couldn't decide which specific course of action to take. We wanted to announce something about the lecturer during the lecture but we just couldn't quite think of a good excuse to take the mike away from him to do it. One idea was to surreptitiously insert an additional few slides into the presentation, but the lecturer kept reviewing his slides up to the last minute so that wasn't possible. We suggested a warm up speaker to run icebreaking games before the lecture proper, and on this pretext Amy snuck into the LT to join in the fun. But the lecturer wanted to use the whole hour himself and the icebreaking games master wasn't quite ready with any icebreaking games at that time, so no games. In desperate times, subtlety goes out the window. The lecturer finished a little early and was about to dismiss the group. We took the chance to push Anthony up to the console where he asked the lecturer if he could make an announcement. And then the whole LT sang the birthday song to our esteemed lecturer who, Anthony announced, had just turned... 18 yesterday. Heh, forever young!

I wasn't meant to be a civics tutor this year but the 1st term intake wasn't as humongously large as we had expected, though it still is bigger than we've ever seen before. So temporarily I have a CT of 26 (how will I remember all their names?) to keep me busy with this term.

My new CT is a nice mix of people with a number of foreign students, a balance of guys and gals, and though predominantly ethnically Chinese there are a couple of other Malay and Indian folks to make things interesting. The group is also a "rojak" in terms of subject combination so the only time they will meet together is during CT and GP tutorials. Wonder what this diaspora will mean for CT unity, but the individuals themselves look quite enthu, and if given too much freedom could be quite a handful. I'll try playing more the disciplinarian this year (though I doubt I could keep it up for long) and see what effect that might bring on the CT after 1 term.

I gave them a bit of a spiel about how responsible CT committee members have to be and that it isn't a good idea to nominate people they don't like for such positions because they will then be rewarding the people they dislike with PEARLS points and other recognition (glowing testimonials for e.g.) that other people (i.e., the proposers themselves) deserve. It's true, isn't it? This revelation made sense to the CT and I had no trouble getting volunteers for CT rep, etc. I am prepared to take the chance on these volunteers, that they will be as responsible as they promise, though I might still have to guide them on their methods of getting things done.

Am proud of everyone in 03A2, many of whom are working and discovering that they still haven't outgrown rules of attire, behaviour, etc., which still apply even in the corporate world for the most part (oops, sounding like the P now); but I can't live in the past any longer. New year, new kids. Time to start all over again.

Yay! I'm blogging with no strings attached! Couldn't resist picking up the MS wireless optical keyboard and mouse still being offered at Christmas prices. Now I've got rid of 2 more cables snaking under my desk, can close my keyboard drawer properly and, with keyboard comfortably on my lap, blog from a distance in the comfort of my beanbag! (Now, how do I make the words on the screen bigger?) Oddly enough, the package also comes bundled with a free PS2 mouse. Duh. Go figure.

Amy had the honour of having Anthony and me standing in an empty parking lot to reserve the space for her Echo's eventual arrival. We lunched at Killeny Road where we sadly observed that the lobster laksa shop had closed. But anyway we were there looking for durian cheong fun ("rice rolls" as the signboard helpfully translated), not laksa. We needed a more substantial lunch, though, so we ordered fried rice almost all round. I don't know about the others but I think it was obvious that fried rice isn't quite the forte of this eatery. It was slightly undercooked with little to distinguish it as something special.

Lynette amused us with her careful consideration of her choice between abalone or fresh scallop cheong fun on the side. The scallop one won out as being more value-for-money, though June strongly disagrees on this cost-benefit analysis. Reason: Canned abalone is always by far more expensive than fresh scallops any day.

And how was the house specialty? I'm not really sure. I haven't tasted enough of the durian cheong fun to make an unbiased judgement. I only took a piece and while it tasted abundantly durian-like, the mix of smooth, rubbery, bland cheong fun and the creamy durian didn't sit well in my mouth. It must be the sort of dessert one downs in quantity while simultaneously being busily engaged in conversation to be fully appreciated. Oh well, a new food experience, anyway.

I feel like there are 2 voices speaking to me from somewhere above. The voice higher up the, um, ladder says to give more freedom, more autonomy, more responsibility and personal accountability to the kids themselves. They must be independent, find their own way, express themselves as their talents and interests direct them; let them discover things for themselves through experience rather than via second-hand input; let them initiate activities amongst themselves and learn from each other.

Then there is the other voice from a little lower down. It says that we must tighten control, have many layers of accountability, more stringent monitoring for adherence to rules and regulation, black and white documentation of such transactions between instructor and student as may be considered "counselling" in order to establish a pattern of recalcitrant behaviour when such cases move up the scale for higher counselling.

It's interesting that freedom and control are so directly related to one another. The greater the freedom, the more control is needed to ensure that the system does not fall into chaos. The greater the freedom, the more numerous the variables become and control mechanisms have to be established for each possible eventuality thus making a system increasingly nit-picky. The less freedom there is, the less control is needed because every eventuality is governed by only a few (or just one) rule/s. "Off with his head!!!" comes to mind.

In the creative arts, the realm of freedom of expression as we generally allow, even such freedom is governed by rules that determine how a piece of work is created. Solo artists have talent, but it is also a process of grooming, training, practicing and developing a discipline that brings out the potential inherent in talent. Rules are especially crucial for collaborative artworks, like in theatre. Even in improv comedy such as in "Who's Line is it Anyway," the form of the created piece and the product itself are the result of imposing a set of rules on an otherwise free form of expression. Everyone knows the broad parameters of the improv games the performers play with each other to a finite set of variables provided by the audience, and the result is always hilarious and very entertaining. It would be infinitely harder to say, Ok, let's improv something together... let's see... um... and here we're at a point of searching for a rule to work with in order to get the collaboration started.

Notice I said "broad parameters" and "finite variables"? Too many rules becomes a blueprint that ensures that every product turns out the same -- as in a mass production line -- and didn't we say we were moving away from this primitive concept of education? As staff, we now have a load of procedures and protocols to administer regarding the monitoring of each individual student's behaviour, development and holistic progress, which amounts to a lot more forms to fill per student on a regular basis. New year, new initiatives. We really have to remind the kids and ourselves that it's maintaining the spirit and not the letter of the law that will balance out our 2 conflicting voices, else we'll just go nuts.

English Dept and technology don't mix well together. First GP lecture of the year and the AV goes completely dead. No picture, no sound, just the blue "no signal" screen. And the intro lecture as prepared by Anthony and Vince is graphics heavy. Idea was to flash photos taken from recent news and see what the students would say or ask about them. This plan was not to be. The intro lecture became very imagination-dependent as Anthony verbally described the pictures the students were supposed to be seeing, and he was supplying his own responses to them himself. An interactive lecture gone back to monologue instead. On hindsight, maybe he might have called up various members of the audience on stage to describe what they saw on the laptop? That way, it wouldn't have been all Anthony-talk but some audience participation as well.

There was nothing anyone could do. The equipment was working perfectly the session immediately before. Even with our tech on site, he was no help at all. A screw-up this serious usually means someone forgot to do some simple little thing, but no one could figure out this little problem this time so there was no AV throughout. Regardless, Anthony kept his cool and just did his thing. It wasn't that difficult for him to do the talking, just harder for the audience to visualize what he was saying.

For courage and composure under technical breakdown, we tutors in the back row gave him a standing ovation.