Netball

Sec. 3 and 4 were the best years in my schooling life. For a one-word reason.

GIRLS.

Although I was in a co-ed school, we were segregated during Sec. 1 and 2. Presumably for the reason that it was easier administratively; The boys had to take Technical lessons, whilst the girls had Home Economics in Sec. 1 and 2.

My class had exactly 20 guys and 20 gals. Our form teacher, Mrs Ong arranged our seating in checkerboard style so that each pair of boys will be surrounded by four pairs of girls, and vice versa. She explained that she wanted us to not be shy and mix with the other gender. HA HA HA... As if we needed any more encouragement.

We were a very closely-knit class. In fact, in my school, all the Sec. 3 and 4 classes were pretty close because we had the same set of classmates and teachers throughout those two years. Interclass games usually brought out the support from most of the class. Which reminds me of the guys' "strong" support for our gals during the netball interclass games.

One of us guys had offered tongue in cheek to the class's netball team captain to "train" them. A number of us can play a decent game of basketball (we finished third in the basketball interclass games) and the offer came out in half seriousness. Surprisingly, the ladies AGREED. Oh, we could hardly contain our glee, especially after thinking about the potential physical contact higher heights of netballing excellence we were going to help the girls achieve!

I, being the tallest in class (I grew 13 cm during my four secondary school years), was assigned the GK position. Suffice it to say I made life really really tough for the lady GS during the "training"!

On the days of the netball competition matches, the class's boys turned out in full force. I still recall us lining up one side of the court, sitting on the roadside kerb, as we took in the game. Everytime our side scored, we would do a Mexican wave. Upon which the scorer, either the GA or GS, would blush. Ah, those were the days...

We enjoyed ourselves so much, I cannot remember whether our girls won or not. :P

Dobry Den from Warsaw, Poland

Hey there!

It snowed a bit more today and temperature is dropping even further! Sweet!

Took the train today from Krakow to Warsaw and it was the weirdest logic of a ride I have ever experienced. I had pay for a reservation on this train even with a East European Pass so I got seat number 113. When I got to the train, I discovered the train only had a carriage to a max of 107 and so I just sat on the first available seat and waited to be kicked out. I then met a Belgian guy and his Polish girlfriend (gf was there to send bf off) and he had the same problem, he was seat number 112. She went to ask the conductor for us and we found out that we just had to stand around in the train carriage till it started moving and then search for an empty seat to plonk our fat arses. Well so much for paying for reservation! Guy suggested we try to get a seat together and I was game since I was amidst a sea of non-english speaking crowd anyways.

So he told his gf he was gonna hang with me coz I spoke English. We went to the first class section and was soon chased off. We stood in the middle section until the train started moving and then he found us some seats. He was pretty cool to hang out with and was a producer of trance music and has gigs in Krakow, Warsaw, Belgian and a few other places. We soon met another 2 DJs with the same problem so from time to time, when we went to the middle carriage for a smoke, we would talk to the 2 standing DJs. Poor asses. Standing for 3 hours near a non-functioning toilet, holding your complimentary cuppa tea, in a moving and jerky train is not funny.

Warsaw is beautiful! So much more commercialised (WWII destroyed nearly 90% of the city so everything had to be rebuilt). Belgian guy and I made arrangements to keep in contact after I got back home and with that, I left.

I arrived at my hostel and this is the first hostel that I am in total and utter love with. It had a little courtyard before entering the reception area and it was covered in snow (of course). The rooms and bathroom was so clean and spacious that I think I am in heaven finally. I met with the 2 Aussie girls here (they recommended the place) and right now, I am researching for pensions and hostels to stay in Prague.

I hate to think that with Prague, my little journey will come to an end... *sigh*

A Sheet of White

I woke up yesterday evening, walked out for my breakfast a couple of doors down, and when I came back, I saw 'dust' floating all around.

I got up this morning, repeated the same routine and when I came out, I saw a fresh sheet of white on the ground. The sheet of white was so fine and soft that I felt I was walking past a ground covered with powder.

As I stood outside in awe, the white 'dust' particles swirled all around me before settling all over me. The snow didn't melt when I smudged them against my clothing. I flicked it off and another fresh batch came to rest.

I looked past the parked cars and barren trees and they too were covered with a fresh dusting of snow.

The world stood still for me as I took in this incredulous sight. Mother Nature amazes me each time I think I am weary and done with this world. She shakes her head gently, whispering "uh uh... not yet" whenever I look up at her, sighing a breath of weariness, asking if that was all the world had to show me.

Yes it is freezing cold.
Yes I do feel alone.
But I am loving every minute of this 'white' holiday.
I am loving every chatter of teeth against the icy winds.
I am loving every sip of hot latte in the cold nights.
I love being snug in my inappropriate outer coat.
I love snuggling down against the woolly scarf wrapped around my neck.
I love the feel of warm gloved hands in my coat pocket.
I love life as it is now.

Good Evening from Krakow! (Part Deux)

I am still in Krakow and things are kinda bleak today.

I think I saw falling snow for the first time in my life, albeit it was just the tiniest specks of dust like particles floating down. Forecast was 40% snow but tomorrow should be 60% so here's keeping my fingers crossed.

I assume that since Acey has not answered my earlier Krakow post, that he is safely home and reunited with his loved ones. Have a great time there Acey!

I took the Auschwitz Concentration Camp tour today. It was bleak and freezing. Temperature was minus 5 at least and enhanced the austerity of what I witnessed today. The concentration camp experience further emphasizes why I detest politics so much. In my simpleton mind, too much politics lead to wars and wars invariably lead to tremendous unjust human suffering. I saw the pics taken from 1940 -1945 where Jews were conned onto genocide trains. They were promised a better life. The minute the train arrived, the males and females separated. They were told they had to take a bacterial bath and made to strip in masses in "bathing" rooms that were done up with fake shower facilities. Then they were hustled past the bathing rooms into chambers and gassed to death in thousands. Through the little ducts, the soldiers poured Cyklone K gas. The deceased's belongings were still left at the side of the train when all this happened.

I hated every minute of the tour but it was necessary for a bigger perspective into my own life. The perspective gained was choice. I have a choice of how I want to suffer. These individuals, killed in a variety of ways, such as through Cyklone K, bullets to the back of their heads, hanging, torture, didn't. They all got on the train for one reason, to live. They were all killed for one reason. They were Jews.

The entire camp brought an involuntary tear from my Polish guide's eye, when we were at another genocide camp, Birkenau. I had to stop and stare because even after thousands of tours she has conducted, repeating the same story over and over, on a daily basis, it still brought pain to her heart. Might she have lost a loved one? Might she still be mourning the loss of her people who were tortured senselessly?

I think back to the people I've known with love of war ideals, nazis, swastika signs on their clothing or bags, love of killing machines, and I wonder. Would these same people still think it was cool to be associated with these insignias, or that such history was fascinating, if they stopped to really think about what and where it derived from? Seriously... stop and think for a minute the pain and suffering others had to go through with these same tokens we now seem to worship as a fashion statement. Think of the fear it struck in these innocents' hearts whenever they saw a soldier, a swastika sign, a coloured bandana, a tattooed number on the forearm.

I apologised to the photos hung on the walls. I had to apologise for what monsters had done to them and their family, for the senseless fear and suffering that they had gone through, for my inability for reparation to them today. All I can do is walk past and listen to stories that mean nothing to me in modern day life. All I can do is take a picture of the horror and empathise for all of 2 seconds. All I can do is sit here and admonish how bad war and torture is.

For those who have died without ever having been given a fighting chance, I am sorry.
Please know that your deaths have not gone to vain. Please know that your deaths have given me all the answers I ever need in this lifetime.

Hellos from Krakow, Poland!

Today's hostel has free internet use but I had to wait quite awhile. Thankfully I am still living in the Asian timeframe so I sleep late (1am here) and wake early (5ish am here). I usually have to creep around the room so as not to wake my mates up.

I thus did the same this morning, sussing around for my electric toothbrush, toothpaste, jeans, top for today, hairbrush, rest of the toiletries to make me human again and then creep out to the door, have it creak open, suck in breath for fear of waking others, then creep out into the ice cold air, freeze for 5 seconds, then run as quietly as I can into the bathroom.

So now, I have free internet all to myself! Woot!
I met 2 aussie girls (Lindsay and Rosie) in Vienna and we made plans to meet and stay in "Bling Bling" in Krakow. I was talking to the receptionist about the "Auswitzch Concentration Camp" tour in 'Bling Bling' hostel when I heard a familiar voice ring out saying"I thought I remembered that voice!" and then Lindsay's head peeked out in the common room. It was such a joy to meet up with them again! I had such a good time with them last nite! We didn't do much besides sit around and bitch and watch telly in a language we didn't understand. It was still fun. They are leaving today for Warsaw, Poland. I should be joining them in a day's time. These 2 girls are amazing. They are 24 years old and have saved A$20,000 each, taken a year off to travel the world. They are living from hand to mouth but seem really happy and relaxed with life. It would be cool if I could do that, but along with being a non-risktaker, I know it is not in me to do so. I have to know when my next source of income is coming and have all the creature comforts I am unwilling to do without at this age.

I also met some Americans in my bunk and they are doing a semester in Prague. They asked me to hook up with them in Prague so they can show me around. Sweet!

It's just been really cool meeting these people. I doubt people would be as friendly if I didn't stay in a hostel and if these people weren't young. I wonder where I went 'wrong' then. Should I (at my age) be staying in a hotel instead? I did that in Budapest and it was cool too. 50Euros per night for a pitiful hole in the wall. I have decided to stay 2 days in a hostel and 2 in a hotel in Prague, when I finally get there. I met a fellow Singaporean who is 21 yrs old. He seems to think I should be living more frugally. I don't even try to make him see that I am not a young backpacker trying to make ends meet on this holiday. I choose to stay in hostels for the experience and not the cost.

As for money, well I am paying for the hostel in Krakow via Visa. Thank goodness. Anything I can charge to a credit card, I charge. I am down to about 450 euros in cash. But don't worry Acey, worse case scenario, I eat in restaurants and stay in hostels only. The cash will last me through gifts and other emergencies, I think. HeHe!

It was quite scary taking the infamously dangerous and thief-ridden train ride from Budapest to Krakow though. I was praying so hard throughout the journey in between sleep. But I praise God that I got here safe and sound. Another scary ride is from Warsaw to Prague. Another 10+hour night train ride.

I'm sorry if what I've written does not have any form or subject matter. It's just a rambling download of thoughts in my head.

My last thought as I finish off this update, is that I didn't fancy Vienna and Budapest as much. Perhaps it is just winter that's making the 2 places seem dreary, perhaps I overexpected. But I sorta thought I would see cupid and angels in Vienna. None of these creatures appeared. Not even in my imagination.

Hmmm... Krakow in comparison is much colder and drearier but it still seems better in comparison. I hope that I will love Prague when I do finally arrive, otherwise it is just gonna be another big disappointment.

Till my next update then... and oh yeah! Acey! Why do you seem to be regressing whilst guest blogging? I seem to be reading about your past, your JC, your math attempt, your ex-teacher, your ex-friend.

Mr. Siew, my Chinese and Art teacher

My Sec. 2 Chinese and Art teacher was a certain Mr. Siew (real surname). He had a very queer teaching style that made him popular amongst some students and much hated by the others. You either loved him or loathed him. I belonged to the latter group. This, despite him never ever having a chance to punish or insult (more on this below) me.

His chinese lessons comprised mainly of storytelling. Lots of it. Us students called it "talk cock" session. He would just tell us silly sarcastic story after silly sarcastic story. That was fine by us, except that the sarcasm were mostly directed towards us students and Singapore (as in the country).

If it was directed towards us, it would be indirect jibes at our "poor and still dropping Chinese standards". Hardly anything to fire up our waning interests in Chinese.

If it was directed at the country, it would be usually something to put down our country's achievements. For example, there was once he was talking about a newspaper report on Asia's four dragons, namely Singapore, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Korea (remember that those were the heady years when we were still getting 10% annual GDP growth), upon which he stood up, did a tail imitation with his hand against his jutted out butt, and said (he had a high pitched squeally voice),

“新加坡亞洲四小龍？！龍尾吧！”

The whole class went quiet. I myself was bristling and would have loved to retort，

“老師，您對新加坡這麽不滿，爲什麽不移民呢？”

But I didn't dare to. I SHOULD HAVE. Till today, I sometimes wonder what his reaction would be if I had.

This is one of the milder examples, by the way. But strangely, it is also the one that left the deepest impression in me.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am not a super duper patriotic Singaporean. Actually, I am not even sure if I can be called patriotic. But to hear a teacher, a TEACHER, put down your own country like that really touched a raw nerve.

His arts and craft lesson comprised of more sarcasm too. It was fairly obvious that he was not really trained to teach art. So he made up for it with a huge amount of sarcasm for our artwork. Many a classmate of mine had suffered the humiliating fate of having his work thrown out of the classroom and if his throw was strong enough, DOWNSTAIRS onto the school porch.

I was lucky in that it never happened to me. I may not sound it, but my artwork was, and hopefully still is, pretty good. I have quite nifty hands and it runs in the family. He had therefore no reason to insult my work nor throw it out. Instead, I got praise for it, albeit in a very roundabout manner,

“你們的作品這麽差，我只好把最好的擺外面才走出課室。如果別的老師問我的話，我就說這是班上最差的。”

More often than not, he would pick my work to do a "live" demo as he told this insult for the umpteenth time. And I certainly didn't see it as praise for my work as well.

Needless to say, I was really glad to move into Sec. 3 and leave Mr. Siew behind in Sec. 2.


Mr. Siew, if I had learnt anything from you, it is not properly spoken or written chinese nor lovely artwork. Instead, it is a reminder that I should never ever grow up to become a bitter person like you. I'm glad I didn't turn out to be anywhere near to being like you.

Dropping Literature

With the posts of the past two days, I seemed to have found my way into a schooling theme. It's been rather enjoyable reminiscing the good old days, so I shall continue with it for a while more...


Whilst I can handle my Maths, my English Literature downright sucked. It was one of my two chosen humanities subjects during Sec. 3 and 4, the other being History. It is not that I disliked Literature. I rather enjoyed it, much more than History in fact. It's just that my essays just didn't seem to come out right. Which also meant that my History essays sucked as well.

So after two sets of examinations in Sec. 3, where I managed to pass both subjects by the skin of my teeth, I decided I've reached another crossroads. I had to do something to get out of my humanities rut. Fast.

I had learnt my lesson from my English composition debacle to know that results, and only results, count in this system (sounds a little like a football manager, hey). I had to play along. If I had gone on pure interest, I would have stuck by Literature. If I had been prudent, I would have stuck by both. But I was a risk-taker and truth be told, I wanted results (congrats, Singapore education system). Good results were easier to squeeze out of History than Literature, so I decided upon dropping Literature and spending that freed-up time on History.

Making that decision wasn't easy, for I was also pretty fond of my Literature teacher (also our class form teacher and English teacher). I couldn't bear to see her straight in the eyes when I told her about my decision. Telling my parents were way easier!

A short aside. Remember those recent reports about fewer and fewer students taking Literature in upper secondary? Well, I'm one of those dubious early pioneers (1990).

Anyway, so I stopped attending Literature classes at the end of Sec. 3. I remember we had done the text "Animal Farm" for most of that year and was just getting into the Shakespeare play "Romeo and Juliet" when I made that decision. So until today, I know the story of Romeo and Juliet rather well, but only up to the part where Mercutio got killed.

Actually, I never really stopped attending Literature classes altogether. There were three of us who dropped it. Initially, the three of us would go to the library to do other work during Literature lessons. After a while, we just stayed back. Sometimes to do other homework, sometimes to listen to the Literature class! Our form teacher, Mrs. Ong (real surname, since I'm not on my own blog and not bound by my own rules :P) was just that popular amongst us. Of course, plain listening was more enjoyable for me than having to dead-memorise the significance of every alternate line.

I still managed to make my own little contribution to the world of literature though. In my Sec. 4 year, my school put up a play of "Animal Farm" at the Drama Centre (the old one). I didn't take part as an actor though. I was a sound effects man, together with another classmate. We did sound effects like thunder (huge aluminium metal sheet), milking sounds (supersoaker into empty metal pail with microphone next to pail; This was the crowd favourite!), whips and gun shots ("igniting" small "bullets" that were actually for those revolver keychains). It was raucous fun!

Going back to the main story, my plan did work. I did find myself with more time to straighten out my History. In fact, after the mid-year Chinese 'O's, I had even more time on my hands. And I did improve my History grades.

Once I stepped into JC, it was sayonara to the humanities.

It's strange that my prolific reading and strong preference for WWII aviation memoirs only began AFTER I was done with the humanities in school.

Aceing A-Maths

If it is not obvious from my own blog, I do ok in my maths, especially probability and statistics. But it hasn't always been so.

I had been aceing my way in Maths from kindergarten all the way to Sec. 2. It had seemed effortless to me at times. Until A. Maths came along.

Sec. 3 represented the jump from E. Maths (Elementary Mathematics) to A. Maths (Advanced Mathematics). I struggled with it immensely during the initial months. Not only did I not ace it, I failed it. And all the A. Maths teacher could offer in terms of advice to the class was practice, practice and more practice.

So we did. All of us diligently bought our 10-year series (actually, mine was more like 30-year series with questions from as early as the late 60s!) and tried every single question in the topics that had been taught up till then.

Still, there was only a marginal improvement in my grades (and my understanding of the topics). I started passing, but only barely. What's more, I started hating Maths. The final straw for me came during the mid-year exams. Still not much of a discernible improvement despite the extra hard work put in.

During the June holidays, I decided drastic action was needed. First and foremost, I threw away my 30-year series. And I promised myself I will only spend time doing the questions given as homework. But I made sure I really really gave these questions a proper go and workout.

What resulted was an exponential increase in my free time. And I no longer hated Maths. I accepted my deficiencies in it and just gave it my best shot. Slowly, the interest came back and I started going back to re-reading the A. Maths textbook because I was interested, not because I had to.

The pickup in grades began towards the end of Sec. 3. But what really and totally restored my self-confidence and interest in it was my Sec. 4 prelim exams. I hit the heights of 88 (geez, I remember the strangest and most minute details, don't I?!) in it.

I've learnt my lesson in learning and have since applied this newly discovered hypothesis to all subjects, courses, modules I've undertaken. It still works.

Failing my English composition

There was a collective gasp of worry when my Primary Six form teacher (also my English teacher) announced that there was one failure in the mid-year English composition exam. That made up for 50% of the English grade.

Then for lack of tact, she announced my name to the whole class and even proceeded to explain in detail why I had failed.

At my time (1987), the English composition exam consisted of a few choices of questions. There is almost certainly one where you were painted a scenario in the form of a few sentences and have to continue the story, aka "The Short Story Question".

I had attempted that question during that exam. The scenario given was one of teenage shoplifting. I thought I would give the usual way of tackling such questions a twist by completing the short story in half the number of words allocated and spend the other half doing a short discussion on the phenomena of teenage shoplifting.

That proved to be my downfall. I was informed, actually the whole class was informed in a stern manner, that for a "Short Story Question", you HAVE TO write a full short story. Nothing else is acceptable. So I was marked out of point and hence awarded the failure mark. And to rub it in, I was given 24.5 out of 50.

That was the exact moment I knew how our education system worked.

Guten Tag from Vienna

Hello There!

Hope you guys missed me enough! The tour started with me running to buy a backpack and another coat, 4 hours before my departure coz the friend who said she wants to go with me, said she would fly out to meet me on Tuesday instead. She said her mom was nagging her non-stop and the compromise was she flies later. She then proceeded to say that she would book the first night accommodation for me.

On a lark, I went to the hotel she booked and they told me that there was no such reservation. I sent her an sms and she didn't reply. I realised it was because I didn't add the prefix +65 in front of her number. I don't remember if I smsed her again. I ended up searching in the middle of the night for a hostel. Found one after much walking. Not a biggie.

Today is Monday and till now, I have yet to hear from her. Guess she won't be joining me after all her words. heh. What a flake. I'm sorry Chris, but I do think that of you now. You just aren't reliable no matter how good a friend we once were. Even in the midst of all my depression, I am not that unreliable. You also managed to fuck up my Paris visit. I spent 10hours in the airport coz I was super pissed at you and that I didn't do my homework on Paris.

I also now realise I did not bring enough cash with me coz you said you would have all the hotels booked and paid. The hostels I'm staying in now only accepts cash. No worries. I won't die but I will remember this Chris. I will. The world doesn't revolve around you and your problems. Understand that if you are hurting, there is always someone out there worse off than you and you gotta be a decent human being to them too. If you are unable to spare them that much consideration, I doubt you would receive that much back from others in future and end up hurting even more in future. Some things do run in full circles.

I had to log on today coz it got really bad.

I first received a phone call from his best friend and I had to call him back coz I wondered if things were ok or if He had something to tell me. Turns out his best friend just wanted to find out if I was ok.

We chatted for a bit and that was that.

Later when I was doing the tour of the Schloss Schronburg, I received an sms from him. Think he sent it by mistake once again. It was an e-card of his good friend's number in Jakarta. I was sitting down after just finishing the audio tour of the imperial palace. This was when I broke down. I ended up staring at the floor of the reception area, nearest to the toilet and tears just started flowing. I felt like a fool in the mid of winter, crying over what is already over. I don't believe this. I didn't spend over S$3000 to come back to this circle.

I don't wanna do this. I don't wanna have to walk alone here. It's too lonely and painful.

Terminating a friendship

I've never ever terminated a friendship actively (key word) in my life. Until the December of 2004.

I have, no, I mean, had, a friend, 淑. 淑 and I went all the way back to Sec. 3 (1990). I liked to think we were close friends, and she had indeed told me so on a few occasions.

We didn't get to know each other that well during Sec. 3 and 4, even though we were classmates. It was during the JC years that our friendship started to develop. We had enrolled in the same JC. I suppose it was natural since we were like lost beacons in the new surroundings. All the former secondary schoolmates just tended to congregate together. And 淑 being in the same former secondary class as I, we tended to speak to each other more.

But what really got the friendship going was her first and as far as I knew, only boyfriend. That took place during the 2nd year of her uni course, i.e. 2nd year of my NS. Suffice it to say the path of their love was strewn with obstacles.

She would often confide me in many of her relationship problems. I was a willing listener. I remember even once, I forgot the year now, when I received a phone call from her. She merely said she needed to talk, and could only think of me. I dropped whatever I was doing and we met up within an hour.

I still remember it took place at the MacDonald's in the old (and not expanded yet) Jurong Point. I just sat opposite her as she went through the latest set of problems to beset her relationship. I was a novice at such things, and could only listen. Then she started sobbing and I became very self-conscious. Self-conscious of other diners staring at us, especially me. Heh, it was quite comical on hindsight.

After we parted ways that day, there was silence from her front for the next few weeks, if not months. Then one day, I bumped into her on the streets. He was there with her. She was clutching a single rose and they looked happy. She blushed a little as she greeted me. Then they went on their way.

After which there was total silence again. I did try to keep in contact with her via phone, but she was almost certainly busy with work and such. This situation was to last for a couple of years. I thought to myself, when the romance stabilises a bit, she will start looking for her pals again. So I gave her space and time.

Finally she was able to "entertain" me in a phone call in 2001 (I think, exact timings are hazy now). The first thing she said to me was,

"I'm married."

You know, I was very upset at her. The least she could do was to inform her friend about it so that we could celebrate it or something. Nothing. I told her so. She apologised.

A couple of months later, another phone call to her. Another one-liner from her that absolutely floored me,

"I'm divorced. No, the proper word is "separated"."

Now note that since that chance meeting along the streets in the late 90s, I have not had the chance to meet up with her. More often than not, we would arrange something and at the very last minute, she'd call and cancel (she said postpone but nothing more is heard about it later) the outing.

So this time, knowing that she had just separated, I gave her more space and time again. But I also told myself if she doesn't respond to my invitations to continue with the friendship thereafter, I will terminate it. Actively.

I gave her her final chance in December 2004. I did the same thing as I had everytime I was back in town from Sydney. I called up my pals one by one to catch up and maybe meet up. She agreed and we fixed a venue and time. Yes, the same thing happened as before. Last minute cancellation, a promise to come back with a revised timing, and the subsequent total silence.

Just before I flew back to Sydney in February 2005, I deleted her phone numbers and address from my database.

Now, you might wonder why I am so stupid and keeping banging my head against the wall with respect to her. It seemed pretty obvious that she wasn't interested in the friendship a long time back. I knew that. But the reason for my apparent stupidity is simple. I treasure each and every friendship I have. I don't give up on them.

She was the first to have made me give up on a friendship. Hopefully she will be the last.

Mahjong

And in the midst of one of our conversations, the topic suddenly turned to gambling and mahjong. That got her excited. REALLY excited.

Excited enough to induce a rather ridiculous question from her. She commanded me (yes, commanded) to find three mahjong kakis for her. Looks like she is very deprived and gien of mahjong, and I told her so. She explained it's because her usual mahjong pals have become increasingly difficult to track down. Her last mahjong session was half a year ago.

Upon which I made the fatal mistake of mentioning that my three close friends are all mahjong lovers.

This looks potentially ugly, though I have since become increasingly intrigued with the idea.

Laughter

I've never imagined becoming close friends with a fellow blogger, but I did.

Chaos and I have since spoken to each other on the phone. What struck me when I first heard her voice was her laughter. And how cheery she sounded. The tone of her blog and her voice just didn't seem to concur with each other. I told her so and she sort of shrugged it off.

I also commented that her laughter had a 豪俠，俠女 feel to it. Upon which I was treated to another liberal dosage of it. She did not believe me.

A few weeks later, she came back and told me another friend of hers had just made the same comment to her.

So there.

Mic testing

*Tap tap tap*

Testing, one, two, three...

Can you hear me from the back? Yeah?

Erm... this is Acey Deucey speaking and this is my first time guest blogging. Words seem to flow easily when I am on my own blog but don't know why I am sort of pai seh when writing here. Even this post took me a few days to squeeze out, short it might be.

Anyway, I had gotten sort of thick-skinned and asked Chaos if she needed someone to take over during her European tour. She jumped on the suggestion immediately and with such enthusiasm, you would have thought she had just won the $10 million Chinese New Year Toto.

So you will be seeing me quite regularly (I hope) for the next three weeks whilst Chaos is sightseeing in the underbelly of Europe. I will try my best to post stuff that are relevant to her.

請大家多多捧場！

My Final Sojourn

(Note: In no way am I trying to prose, I am just bereft beyond any literary state)

As I pack, myriads of emotions gush.
Recalling the trips we've had.
Invoking what was once shared.
Memories of us, memories of you.

I realise this is a journey long due,
for this is where I have to bid you adieu.
Through the good times and the bad,
This is the final break to what we once had.

I realise I have to make this journey.
to release wisps of you forever.
I am not ready to bid you farewell, my love
but without, I cannot recover.

With each passing minute,
the end draws nearer.
With each passing second,
breathing gets harder.

I cannot indulge in me, and still be me.
I have to retrieve the last vestige of me, for me.

It was said 'Parting is such sweet sorrow'.
Right now, parting with memories is the only sorrow.

I'm sorry, Memories. I truly am.
But this is where our journey together ends.
And where mine begins.

Fear

She just called me after her session.

She cried because she had a talk with the ex. No, she didn't tell him but she basically told him to just not contact her anymore. She was mourning for the finality of her words.

She couldn't answer me when I asked if she was crying because of the sudden realization that it was really over with him, or if she was crying because of what she is about to do.

I think it was because of the sudden realization that it was over.

I fear for the future for both of us.
I fear to see what both of us have become.

Morality, Mortality and Spirituality of the Soul-Less

Whenever the issue of morality comes up for discussion, I believe my grounds on these issues are more than circumspect. However, when faced with an issue of mortality recently, I am not so sure that my stand is ethical or spirtually upright.

I am steadfast in the actions I will take when faced with the same circumstance but I am perturbed and in fact, have recently concluded that I should not be the one giving counsel to others facing the same issue. My beliefs and stand on this issue are, at best, based on my past experiences. It isn't spiritually correct but I stand by it nonetheless, to this day.

Having shared the spiritually wrong moral stance with a friend recently, I now have to face the consequence of what I have done. In addition, I now have to face the consequence of the mortality that I have carelessly and clinically deleted.

There are just some things in this vast life of ours, that a simple apology will not make right.

I can't begin to describe the unrest this has caused me nor the sleepless night I had last night. I cannot believe how clinical I have become. Whatever happened to the emotionally connected person that I was? How do I cry through sad movies and sad real life plights and yet, when faced with this little mortality, be a totally callous, unfeeling and foreign person? Have I been this person all along and this side of me has never had a chance to surface? Where is my soul in all of this? Where is the guardian soul that guides us into being more than just a mechanical apparatus? I do not like this side of myself, even though I have known all along that this is what I will do and I will do it without feeling or remorse.

Have I lost more than just myself through the years? Have I subconsciously also lost my soul in the process of living?

To you whom I have never met, please know that I did what I did, not because you are a bad person. I didn't do it out of malice either. Please forgive me that I am not mourning your loss... I very much want to. But I am unable to. I cannot forgive myself for not being able to either.

Countdown to EE

Im left with about 4 days to departure.

Have not bought overcoat.
Have not packed.

hahahaha!

Btw... Chris called me yesterday and said she booked the same flight and air line as me with her frequent flier miles. I'm not sure if that is true or otherwise.

Oh well! No matter... Im leaving with or without.

My Travel Soliloquy

Chris didn't buy the ticket by yesterday's deadline. haha

I didn't bother too much about it or even called her to ask her anymore.

My deadline for her ended with the ticket deadline.

Yay! I'm gonna be alone for the trip again!

Woot Woot! (I think?)

Guest Blogger

Just had someone suggest that he guest blogs for me whilst I am away in Europe.

Think it is a fantabulous idea! hehe

Step Right in!
Welcome! Welcome!

Zero Tolerance

Do you know how USA and maybe to a certain extent, Singapore, has made a zero tolerance stand for terrorists?

I have made one such stance too.
Zero Tolerance Stance 101: CAB QUEUE JUMPERS
(regardless of age, ethnic background and literacy level)

I actually woke up early today (ok pill induced sleep last night) to shower, and take a leisurely walk to the main road, just so I can wait for a cab without making a booking for a cab, as is my habit.

I got there, the skies were clear and not extremely sunny, there was a light breeze blowing and no one was waiting for a cab. Started to look like a perfect day.

After waiting for 15 minutes, I was still unfazed for I had time on my hands. I was supposed to make a detour to Grand Copthorne Hotel, on the way to work. My friend in Australia, had entrusted a colleague of hers to bring some discs in for me and I was to pick it up from the hotel's concierge.

All of a sudden, this 40ish year old woman came from across the road and she positioned herself not more than 5 metres from where I stood and made futile attempts to flag a cab. I deliberated if I really wanted to ruin my day by frog marching up to her, and give her the tongue lashing that I could feel bubbling within. I stood there, deliberating and seethed slowly. I did the backward count from 50 and in the end, the storm broke.

I walked up to her and told her politely that I was waiting for a cab. Know what she told me?
Cab Jumper: "I waited very long for a cab already".
Me: Yes but you were opposite the road! Not here!
Cab Jumper: "Yah! I waited very long already. I am rushing!"
Me: You rushing? You think I'm standing here waiting for a cab and arguing with you coz I AM NOT RUSHING???"
Cab Jumper: "Where you going har?"
Me: Don't ask me such ridiculous questions!
Cab Jumper: "I wait very long already. Very long"
Me (after careful consideration of the level of Auntie's comprehension): Just make sure to walk properly ok auntie? Try not to trip and fall and die as a result. Also when you eat rice? Don't choke to your death. Seriously, be careful, otherwise you can't be in a rush and jump other people's queues anymore. That would be a damned shame to others waiting for a cab before you who are NOT IN A FUCKING RUSH!

My only regret now, is that she is not educated. Say what you will about lowering myself to her level and arguing with someone who is illiterate. I do not give two fucking hoots about it. My rage for queue jumpers knows no bounds and especially does not give concessions to such low lives, based on age, ethnicity and IQ levels.

Worry about Chris

Supposed to meet Chris today to get my ticket and rail passes.

She didn't respond. She hasnt called back yet either.

This was the same for Sunday. She didnt respond till 11pm when I messaged her at 12 in the afternoon. Said she didnt get to bed till 11am. Said she still had the cough and all that. I replied her yesterday, saying it was alright but to be sure to be up for today when we had to get our tickets and all that.

I have to be at the office tomorrow by 12 noon otherwise I will lose my place. She hasn't responded to me despite smses and phone calls *sigh*

I'm torn between worrying about her and getting pissed.

Nightfall

It is now close to 4am. I am unable to sleep. Also having a cramp and no, it is not PMS or that time of the month. I do not have that time of the months (Don't ask).

I started thinking back to the past few nights Chris and I spoke about her ex. She is unwilling to let him go because she feels she did not do her best. She is determined to get her back.

Ever since she and I started broaching on relationship issues, I have been starting to think of him. Chris was saying how together I look and appear. She says it is near impossible for her.

Am I together? Do I look as though this breakup doesn't bug me?
Do I really?
Then why are the after-effects still traumatising me?
Why am I up at 4am on a work night, tossing and turning?
Why am I still doing battle each sunrise to get outtav bed and live? (No...I am not suicidal)

Chris asked why wouldn't I want to get him back if I am not able to let it go. I told her that if he is unwilling to work at it or even give us a chance, it will end up being an acquisition. That means it will be a matter of me trying to get what I want. The relationship will have no value after I get what I want. I refuse to let myself be that wilful. I cannot live a life where I am not loved and treasured 100%. I cannot be in a one-way relationship. I refuse to allow myself to beg him back. Enough is enough.

She says she will not allow pride to get her in way in her instance. I told her it wasn't a matter of pride at all. If pleading with him to come back was what he needed to see how much I loved him, I would do it in the blink of an eye.

I just deleted two paragraphs of depicting what it was that was killing me in the relationship.
No, I won't do it. I do not want to talk about it anymore.
The time to talk has passed. It is over. I will get over.

I Am Getting Married

Ok to cut to the chase, Christ met this Thai fortune-teller that told her the story of her life without any hints or generic bullshit and predicted her future for her. Needless to say, I was quite amazed that there was the existence of such "superbeings".

Apparantly Chris had to beg her to see me coz she was fully booked. Chris begged her to foretell my fortune and so I got my appointment. It reminded me of how kids would drop all their household chores to take a peek at the fat lady's caravan or even the caravan with the man who had a head shaped like an elephant, when the circus was in town.

To cut an extremely long post short, I deduced the following from having my "fortune" told:

I am going to marry a 40yr-old industrious cab driver who may be asian or caucasian or just has really blond hair. I should start a relationship with said cab driver in July 2006, for at least a year and then get married and have kids. My husband owns the cab. I will be married between 32 (which is now btw) and 34. (Nevermind that I do not believe in marriage or have problems having kids.)

So! Prepare Ang Baos everyone... I am getting married in July 2007!
Sshould I "rejoice" or cry for my loss of "freedom".

p.s. Goodness! I paid to hear that "fortune"? Well, laughter is a treasured commodity, hence the price. Ah well... money well spent.

2006 Changes

I remember posting some time back about a new position within the company I am in.

Well, I talked to the manager yesterday and asked her what will happen if the CEO decides to resolve the recruitment whilst I am away in Europe. She says so far she hasn't heard from him yet. She asked if I have made my decision. Told her I was hoping to take the opportunity whilst I am away to think things over carefully. I told her the only concern I had was the remuneration and she revealed how many months' bonus she got for Year 2005. Gosh! It ain't little at all!

I was talking to a colleague from my department today and she started to ask when I would be on leave and when I would be back. I finally decided now would be a good time to confirm my suspicions that she would be leaving soon and asked her. She smilingly said that she just tendered on the 1st of February. This is a good thing for she is leaving to join her church as an administrative personnel and will be receiving training for missions (which is her ultimate goal). I am real glad for her and realise that this is an important step for her.

Then whilst colleagues and I were chatting during lunch, I made a snap decision to at least try for the position and have a chat with the CEO to find out exactly what's in store. I came back early from lunch and started trailing the manager after he came out of the conference room. I was amused to discover the first thing he looked, was at my hands (to see if I was going to tender my resignation).

We walked to his room and he jokingly asked if I wanted to give him an envelope. I joked back that he had no heart, that after 4 years of my life, he expects me to give him an envelope just because I wanted to talk to him.

In all seriousness, I then told him that I didn't want to give him my resignation but instead, would like to try for the new position. I asked that he inform my CEO about my intentions so that we can talk it over. I am worried that my manager may not release me for we are going to be shorthanded soon. On top of that, word on the grapevine is that another might be tendering soon too, dependant on how his interview works out.

I would like to think that I have grown just a teensy weensy bit this year.
The ability to step out of the mold and risk changes with a job.
The ability to just book a ticket and fly off to a place I really want to see, all on my own, without prior preparation.

Am suitably impressed with myself.

Paging for Ginger

I don't know what email you gave me but erm I emailed it and some stranger called Heather Steward received the email!

She was sweet though, she said it might be a wrong email but I sounded like I was going through a tough time and to take care!

See lah! Tell you secrets including my bank account number and password in that email and it seems it was the wrong email address.

Pls update and send me a correct email please.

Nightmare 102, Flight AF 256

I wasn't going to blog today, but decided I should, if nothing but a reminder of how silly I was when I next look back.

I had a nightmare again last night. It was a sleep un-induced by chemical aid. I slept at 4.30am and at 5.30am, the nightmare started. Something about being chased, being trapped and being killed. Over and over and over again. I told myself to wake up and stop this nightmare but I couldn't. I finally woke up coz some kind soul was calling me on my HP. (Ok under normal circumstances, that kind soul and his entire ancestry and family line would be cursed till kingdom come, but these are difficult times and exceptions must be made.)

I was drenched in sweat. I always thought television dramas with people jumping awake and breathing hard were ... well.. dramas. I experienced it last night. The fear thundering in my heart, sweat-drenched, and basically just experiencing a shortness of breath.

Hence, that was the theme for my day. I was feeling moody that it's been awhile and I'm still being silly by having ridiculous nightmares. I decided then that I had to turn the funk and thus proceeded to calling the Misa Travel website and check on cheaper airfares. They told me that Air France and KLM was fully booked due to the promotion. The next available choice was to go via KLM normal price at S$990.

I was frustrated and decided to go surf Air France's website instead. I keyed in the exact dates I wanted and the air fare was S$2,005. I then started fooling around with the dates till I found the rate S$888. Excited, I called Air France and spoke to a delightful little french lady.

We started planning my ticket then. I was even more thrilled when I found that I could have the ticket at the same price, with an open jaw option (Arrive and depart from different cities).
Finally! I'm getting a break!

The french lady and I were discussing my travel plans, she applauding my bravado at travelling solo to such a distant land at such cold weathers. She wistfully said she wishes she were going to Vienna too.

We had such fun laughing over what time I should plan my connecting flight from Paris (oh yeah! I'm going Paris apparantly!) to Vienna. Apparantly Charles de Gaulle, the parisan airport is pretty large and I told her to factor in time for me to literally crawl from Terminal 2C to 2D, with time built in for getting lost in between the two terminals. She planned time for me to take a 2 hour bus out into the city, take a quick spin around and take the same 2 hour bus ride back to the airport. Sweet!

That being done, I discovered my ad in a travel forum churned back a reply from an american lady staying in Prague. She offered to meet up with me in Prague for dinner and drinks. She also added a bonus prize by saying that she doesn't mind seeing Krakow with me over a weekend and then offered me her couch for the time I will be in Prague! Kewl Ass!

Anyways, these two things happening within a half hour of each other, helped to sooth a little of the nightmarish aftertaste I still had lingering in me. Brains calmed a little and I started to feel my world come into focus again.

Phew!

Hmmm... The Force is Still Strong

Reading through the earlier blog, I decided I needed to do more justice to my fantabulous day.

So here are the rest of the more interesting pics I managed to snap... I feel so touristy today and I haven't left for Europe yet!

The Force Seen and Mastered!

For the uninitiated, this blog is about Star Wars, Star Wars and Star Wars.

I met James at the Science Centre today for the miniscule Star Wars exhibition. I didn't feel a sense of anticipation throughout until I was in the line to pay for our entrance tickets (S$18 nonetheless!).

I caught sight of "Obi Wan Kenobi" "Anikin" on posters and lifesized standies and suddenly... I was excited. I wondered if I would get a chance at the "Light Sabers" or even if they were the real thing.

I had forgotten how much Star Wars thrilled me.

I walked into the merchandise store and started ooh-ing and wah-ing at all the different miniature Light Sabers being displayed. I turned around, and started hearing these voices beckoning me. They sounded like echo-ey sounds of a Light Saber being swished about. I gravitated towards the glass table and there resting innocuously, were 4 Light Sabers with a cardboard handwritten sign resting next to the 1.25m long sabers. It said "Please Do Not Touch The light Sabers".

Subconsciously, my fingers started to gingerly skim along the entire length of the light sabers. They were cool and smooth to the touch, fingers proceeded down the length, millimeter by millimeter, to the man-sized handles. The cool reflective metal set my heart a-pitter-patter. I was looking at all the different buttons and switches and before I knew it, something clicked (Oh! Did I Do That???) and the Light Saber came alive. It not only came alive, it came alive with a loud but low quiet hum. Transfixed, the noise from the crowd filtered off to constellations of nothing-ness and I was alone with the Light Saber.

I picked up the Light Saber and realised that the choice was made. It was the same Light Saber that Darth Vader uses, Red. The Saber called to me and in my hands as I lifted it above my head, I was one with the Light Saber. With each flick of my wrist, the Light Saber emitted a hum mimicking the speed of the movement. The faster I flicked from left to right, the more urgent the hum. James broke me from my reverie and it was then that we started to spar. I egged James to use his "caucasian power" to get the staff to take pics of us in mid-fight, in a face-off and with the sabers crossed, good and evil about to swipe the head off an unworthy opponent. I was all prepared to beg plead and cry if the staff rejected James. Thankfully, I did not have to stoop to such unglamarous antics in the end.

We had such exhileration walking through the exhibition thereafter, every single lifesized figurine, uniform, starship, bad and good character, brought back pieces of my life as each episode was made (Some of the episodes spanned a couple of years in between).

I got home slightly before midnight because we had errands to do in town as well, but tired as I was, I managed to load, resize and correct all the pics from today.

Oh yeah! I also managed to find my 'The One' in here too... wanna make a quick guess which one is my "The One"?