Expressions

President scholar

President scholar I am not. I never will be. There are less than 100 president scholars in Singapore I believe.
I do know a president scholar back in my secondary school days.
An elder brother of a close friend of mine is a president scholar.
There's another one here in my camp, a military officer who wants to be a naval diver. And probably future Chief of Navy.

To even qualify for the course as a officer trainee, you'll have to be something special. Supreme fitness, excellent leadership ( on paper ) and of course perfect body conditions, e.g. perfect eyesight.

So here we are talking about someone of the highest calibre, a unique breed with both brains, atheletism and leadership. Almost too perfect. Like 4As, 3 S paper distinctions, excellent ECA record, 2.4 under 9min, 20 pull ups sort of guy. Pity he's selling his soul for the SAF. But then again, they pay good money to such people.

As I watch my 3rd hellweek in Naval Diving Unit as an outsider, someone waiting to ORD, I have lost all rhapsody about comparing whose hellweek has the most whackings, who shit and urinated more in their pants, how many people squeeze in a single toilet with barely no space to move, how much sleep we were given. It's for those freshies to comment.

Rumours spread like wildfire, or I should say, shit rolls around pretty fast in the unit. There aren't many things to do anyway. I heard this shit that our dear president scholar wrote a complaint to MINDEF to reprimand an instructor who ordered the trainees to bone-dry the toilet bowl. The instructor got into some serious trouble later from this precocious trainee sent by heaven.

The president scholar conducts PT for himself in the morning, does his own program and people can't touch him. Chief-of-Navy to be. Messing with their own ricebowl if they touch him.

The complains that dear president scholar lodges spoil the entire training. Hellweek is no holds barred, unorthodox and illegal in its own way but the experience is something you cannot take away from the people who have gone through it. It is something people in the unit talk and laugh about all the time for the funny, outrageous and unforgettable things we do, like putting a urine-soaked socks in our mouth or digging a hole in our very own beach and sticking our heads into it as a fastest possible time to secure ourself individually from whacking, like lifting our oars 3cm above our buddies head after 4 days without sleep, like singing nursery rhymes in our parade square, like instructed to play-act as losers or 'attention seekers' for feeling unwell after an exhuasting run.

Maybe Mr. Future Chief of Navy will get what he want, will earn his respect in his own right as his journey continues, no matter what kind of a big shot he becomes next time, I'll be watching.

How true it is to say that the rich and famous get away with anything.

Hospital Stories (two)

My favourite aunt paid my mum a visit the second day of her hospital stay.
She was also the only relative that paid me a visit when I was fighting dengue fever. Apparently, my two most favourite little cousins didn't gave a damm.
After she left, I saw a nice basket of flowers that she gave my mother which said simply, " Jie jie, zao ri kang fu".

The families in the future will never be like in the past where there were many siblings to play with. My dad had 5 brothers and a sister. My mum have 3 brothers and a sister. I have none.

Suddenly, the epiphany of family struck me. My aunt and my mum are both in their forties. The handwritten 'Jie jie' was just so genuine and so sweet that I felt family was the most important thing at that instance.

What is it like to go through after so many years as siblings? Sisters from little girls to mothers. The whole process is just magical. Sharing little secrets, discussing about marriage, talking about other boys, fighting over dolls, the inevitable favourism from parents, chatting about future of their kids. It is a long journey. To be able to hear or see that sincere 'jie jie' whispered to the ear, or that handwriting caressing the eye surely would have struck a chord in my mother's heart or anybody else's.

Me, I never had any siblings.
I will love to play big brother. To have a little sister or a little brother. I will love to shower gifts to my sister and protect her from bullies. I will love to engage in physical activities with my little brother and outplay, outwit each other in a friendly sibling rivalry.

But somehow, everything in this world is made in a way for a reason. I was brought up without siblings and like a little prince. I never knew what was sharing, sacrificing and compensating like. I admit i probably love myself more than anybody else. I hate to give the excuse that it's due to my upbringing. But deep down, I know that all this has to change.

For the closest people that mean most to you, it's all unconditional. Your best friend, your girlfriend, your brother, your dad may be lying on that hospital bed one day. No matter how stoic their expressions may be, how they whine in pain or indulge in self-pity or even negligence to your presence, we have to be there for them. Unconditional love regardless of joy or sorrow, regardless of life or death.

And never give them up.

Hospital stories (one)

My romance with hospitals turned to a new chapter when this time I was the guardian of a patient. That is, my mother.

My long affair with hospitals started when I was 6 years old, the fat and inactive boy who knew nothing but memorizing the times table and chinese history, fables, poems and famous people told to him by his father.

Quite astonishingly, my appendix needed to be get rid of. A surgery with general anaesthetic and lots of wishes of speedy recovery. The aunties used to say only the mischevious kids who jump about after meals suffer this unfortunate fate. I wasn't.

15 years after, I found myself lying in a Singapore hospital bed 3 times that same year.
1st it was dengue fever. 3 days.
2nd it was harremorhoids. Pulse that is. The spelling should be wrong. An operation and a one night's stay.
3rd it was the wisdom tooth op where I took off 4 at one go.

---

My mother had an eye operation, i dun really know the details. It was something like adjusting the pupil to the right position. It was a day surgery that was supposed to be completed by morning and back home by afternoon.

She was a real sleeper and woke up late afternoon and was feeling giddy, weak and really weak. Being the unfilial son that I was, I asked why she was looking so languid and lifeless. She was probably too sleepy and physically exhausted to smile or talk. I sat beside her bed, feeling it was responsiblity that kept me in my seat and not filial piety or love. I couldn't stand the sight of her not making an effort to get better or at least sit down or eat properly.

I recall the patients around me when I was a patient. I was surrounded by old age, depression and pain. I couldn't help but think one day I will face a similar situation with my mum lying in bed. I love my mum but I doubt my ability to handle the sickly stench of depression that the hospital wards give off. I can't help but thinking what a bastard I am.

Of course, my mum got better and when she greeted me with a smile the next day, i felt much better. So it is indeed selfishness on my part. I only want good things to happen to me. I want smiles, laughter and happiness.
To be continued.

V-day meal

Valentine's Day was cooking day.
Yeah!
I learn how to cook.
See...
I show you.



See.
Here is the uncooked food.



Yea!
I cut the potatoes.



See. I cut the onions and the garlic.
Then my eyes very pain.
Haha.
Haha.



Then I learn how to make sauce.
Nice.
Got orange. Got onion. Got vinegar. Dunno still got what.
Nice.



I grind the mash potato.
Put the cream butter very nice.
Cheesy.
Fattening.
But nice.



Yea.
All the food.
But the prawns suck.
Cos I dunno how to cook.
I suck.

In gayish mood

I'm really expert in playing gay or girlish. It's not a talent. It's just whether you're afraid to lose face. In many occasions, it's good to act a little gay to buy some laughter.

Officialy, Bad Education is my first R21 movie after my years of existence in this world passed the legal entry of Singapore cinemas but not my face. Many years back there was Bird Cage by Robin Williams. Quite recently, there was Alexander.

Coming of age, I looked back at the times when our(guys) juvenile spirits will mock at homosexual behaviour and condemm it like it's hell. Just to prove our masculity, or perhaps that masculine is the superior sex since we only mock at the feminine side of gays.

I was very much involved in playing gay or acting gay simply for fun with people so serious when you see them on the streets now. Or maybe RI people are a sick bunch of people.

Eerily, this reminds me of the play I acted in during JC when i was condemming a certain gayish person played by the irreplacable Damien who skillfully crafted the character, adding layer and depth to this role of a lifetime. Heh. Punch me Damien.

Truth is, many people can't handle the truth about homosexuality. It makes our hair stand, our skin twitch when coming across too intimate actions. The thought of homosexual sex acts will also probably turn most people off. Many people aren't cool about this whole issue. People aren't really that comfortable with homosexuality. Many people have not come with terms with the one million and one sexual orientations that people and animals have.

Judging from gay marriages and of course the movies i've watched, genuine love cannot be doubted in a gay relationship. I respect that. Love that is. But not the sex.

Being an adult means to accept different types of people, mature enough to handle the truth whether good or bad. But many people aren't.

The day you realise your kids doing funny things with someone of the same gender. The day when you can accept your kid's sexual (dis)orientation and grant them the love of their lives. I will be there to give you a pat on the back. I admit I'm not that mature just yet.
But we are all learning.

I'm back.

So the prodigical son returns but I've nothing much to say. Maybe it's because of the scorching sun these days or maybe it's the ridiculous amount of mosquitos every night that storms my slumberland.

The existence of m0squit0s is a natural disaster by itself. The inexorable heat that smother our skins is an unexplainable phenomenom applicable only in Singapore, which very soon, will be accompanied by showers and thunderstorms.

Some of you may not know, I sleep in the living room for many reasons. Many reasons which may be unreasonable. I do not sleep in my own room because it's too stuffy.

I leave the door open when I sleep.
So if you are bored and have nothing else better to do, catch a glimpse of me sleeping, it's quite adorable really.

Other than the natural breeze from the outside which is scarce during these troubled times, there is a small fan parking in front of the TV set facing my mattress.
Recently, i switched it from rotatory to staionary because i stuff myself in a very thick blanket that i own even during these troubled times.

With the door wide open, you can expect more invaders.

But then old habits die hard. So I'm back. But nothing's changed really.

Headless

My modem crashed. On the floor. And it never woke up. Thus the recent post drought.

My D: is also not working. It installs things halfway, it is impotent in creating Audio CDs or Data discs. Thus new modem won't get my internet working without a new D drive.

My computer is now capable of playing only minesweeper, solitare, hearts, spider solitare, 3D pinball and Championship Manager 4. Yeah!

It is also capable of playing mp3files.

♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫~♫

And so, what a boring post.

What am I doing here?

Waiting for time to pass. Nothing much.

And hey, check out my cousin's blog. The last link.

Er...

Fuck it.

Law or not

The first day of CNY. Wow.

Only thing that kept me excited was that 140 dollars Levis Jeans. I'll probably be wearing it for the entire festive season. The Levis underwear though was a disappointment. The 3 studs got their sizes wrong. Medium size was too small, the Freddie Ljungberg-Calvin Klein effect just didn't pull off.

The subject of consideration about my future course in university has reached its most intricate crossroads.

I was determined to just chuck away the Comm studies module if I get pass the Law interview the next month. I was indecisive in the very first place about Comm studies, I thought someone like me who has no aptitude whatsoever for the sciences should not even attempt Engineering, Medicine, Bio-chem and all that bullshit you wanna call them. It's not like I'm interested in them as well.

I thought Comm studies is probably something for me, considering a big part of my childhood was involved in variety shows, tv serials, voice recordings, tv commercials and so on. I love to write shit too. So, you know, along that line.

After applying for it and getting through, i had second thoughts, yea indecisive bastard, bad focus, dunno wat I want in life. Cheapskate degree. Too general and all that nonsense. Poly one better. Graduates tan bo jia ( struggle to earn a living ). Reasons so on and so forth.

Then I had a dinner with a few of my good old Sec2 classmates, many of which are applying for law. That was last year. I pick up books like 'How to study Law in University', read about the cirriculum, checked out the Singapore Law system and then picture myself doing it. I think I could. It's not science. It's a professional degree. It's more prestgious. The Law school is strict with the quality of the intake of students. So I thought I should give it a try, learn to like it since I like nothing else.

My uncle working in a MNC firm as regional manager then told me about his struggling lawyer friends who keep procrastinating their lousy career and lousy life. The bleak future of the legal profession. The even bleaker prospects of meeting ends meet. Only the top survive. At least the 2nd class upper honours. Or an affluent family background to string in the contacts. If not, it's pretty much condemmed. It's a useless degree. An even more useless career. Which makes me even a more useless person.

That is no joke from a person who has been in this competitive working climate for more than 20 years. He dared me to ruin my life.

A day later which is today, my uncle's brother-in-law who is a NUS Law lecturer gave me advice and what to expect from this degree and its prospects. Which was really kind of him.
He said that the Law degree is a very good one and the training that Law school provides is invaluable but choosing a legal profession thereafter may be a critical choice and a great risk, much will depend on the state of the business climate. He also mentioned that at least 95% of law graduates graduate with a minimum of second lower class honours which was something I was unaware of.

I will still give this course a shot. Nothing's finalised. I'll see how well I fare in the interview. If I don't get in, so be it, solves the problem. If I do, that'll be crunch time and my most difficult decision to make till date. That date.

Mind drought

Currently, I'm suffering from a mind drought and I dun know what to post.

I have issues, I have opinions and I have thoughts about this world and life itself but everybody have their off days. Like Thiery Henry is not scoring goals. Like how Tiger Woods surrendered his no.1 to a less talented Vijay Singh. Like how Roger Federer fell to Marat Safin.

Enough is enough. Sick and tired. Give me my inspiration.

The Great Leap 2005

David Tao's 4th album is out for quite some time but I've never really got the chance to really listen to the entire album.

Reason is because I do the album late night, face down on my pillow. I usually can't get past the 5th or 6th track. It seems that I'm plain lazy but it may also seem that the album is not that spectecular for me to keep awake during these wee hours. Then again, I'm such a sleeper.

After seeing mixed reviews and comments from magazines, newspapers and friends, I decided to give it a go myself early afternoon. To see if I really liked it and whether it's worth my money like the previous 3 albums which I didn't buy less the Black Tangerine and less the first one which I got it for $5 at cash converters.

The truth is, David preaches too much for his own good about peace, war, life and how we should live it. Music listners in Asia are unlike the West, most go for commercial stuff like the ridiculous Ocean Au and Zhang Dong Liang, catchy tunes, hip and funky music. Lyrics are more secondary unless you are a more upper class literature person. So nobody really cares or thinks about what David Tao has to say. Come on, just throw us some good music. I always believe melody comes before lyrics. I can still appreciate a nice melody with thrashy lyrics like Jay Chou's 'Excuse' than a really lousy melody with superb, meaningful lyrics. The melody must be good enough for people to take note of the lyrics. Dun wrong me, I'm a big fan of good lyrics. There probably are many good lyrics lying around but have not gone to fame because of a lousy melody or a lousy singer.

I appreciate David's efforts for diversifying his music and at the same time flaunting the range of genres he could do but it's pretty obvious he's evading more soulful tones to distinguish himself from the masses of the music industry. The latest album comes across as too deliberate I feel. 3.5 out of 5 i feel. Very much listenable but inferior to his previous works.

My favourite tracks of this album are Ghost, Susan Said and Sweet Hour of Prayer.

Who Do You Love? is probably the favourite for most, it's in the same mould as Ai Hen Jian Dan, Normal Friends and Melody which I really hate. Sula and Lampa is just him trying to be funny, adding vulgarities and singing it like it is, very much like Bastard in the first album.

The highlight of the album is definitely the chinese opera verse in Susan Said with R & B as its background music. And I credit that one up to his adversaries like Jay Chou and Lee-Hom who are also trying too hard to infuse Asian culture with Western music.

Hail Martina!

Before I get to that, I counted 22posts in the month of January. That's 22 in 31 days. I'm once again astonished by the idle time that SAF has spared me.



At one time, people were crazy about Stefi Graf, her endless legs and her domination in women's tennis. She is now, wife of Andre Agassi, a happy mother and wife.

Martina Hingis burst into the tennis scene at the tender age of 16. She was extremely promising winning grand slams after grand slams as a teenager. She played with grace, finesse, sublime technique and in such a girlish fashion, but the best thing was, she couldn't stop winning.

When the good old TCS screened live games of Australian Open, Wimbeldon, French Open and the US Open, as well as the EPL, I will never fail to watch Martina play. Her adversaries were people like Jennifer Capriati, Lindsday Davenport, Anna Kournikova, the Williams sisters, some other insignificant players.

Her spectecular rise to superstardom in tennis came to an abrupt end when she retired at age 22, the reason i know not. Perhaps it was the muscles that the other female tennis players have pumped up. Grace and flawness technique couldn't defy sheer power.
That is why I hate Serena Williams.

After her, the closest that resemble her was Belgium's Justine Henin, the one who featured in those Nike 'nothing is impossible' commercials, wait, or was it Adidas? This former no.1 was then ousted by fellow compatriot Kim Clijsters. She often looked frail and small compared to the other beefcakes but then again, she played with such excellent technique and grace to hang in there with those muscles for a while.

The emergence of Russian tennis led by sex siren and equally brilliant Maria Sharapova is no doubt cuter, girlish, sexier than Martina. She also re-ignited my passion for women's tennis in the post-Martina era. But she still lacked that outright girlish confidence that Martina potrays. Martina, unlike Maria, doesn't shout about the court chasing after every ball like a bulldog. Sharapova, no doubt is a fighter. Hingis, saves the effort and finishes you off the next play with an exquisite shot.

I heard Martina Hingis is considering a comeback and I'm eagerly anticipating.
Hingis, along with Steffi Graf, are the only and true (there are so many fake ones out there like the Wiliams) women that ever graced the world's most grand tennis courts. Of course there was the other Martina.

I can't wait to see Maria Sharapova defending her Wimbeldon title against Martina Hingis this year.