...goes the weasel

The CNY One (The Twelveth One)

2009-01-28T01:00:00.002+08:00

CNY is supposed to be a time of familial gathering, a time to be happy that you still have some relatives around to celebrate yet another year on the earth of ours, and most importantly, to collect that yearly salary from those same relatives that you appreciate.

Amidst all this hoo-haa about being grateful about the fact that my family members are still around to celebrate this once-a-year occasion with me, it also ends up becoming a yearly affair to see how much more irritating my twin cousins can get. Those pretentious little snots have utterly mystifying English accents, given that nobody in their direct family have those accents. They're strangely pesky for little kids too. Over the CNY holiday, one of them managed to go into my room, with a closed door, and USE MY LAPTOP for his little ridiculous online flash game. He comes into my house and thinks that he can just hop around using my laptop for free? Come on, you have pay to even use the computers at the lan shop.

Not all's doom and gloom when CNY rolls around, however, as much as TVMobile insists on playing those tired tunes redone to death by the flavour of the month stars of their own company. It does warm the cockles of the heart to see that a large family of almost 40 can decide to appear in the same little flat every year for some mahjong and dinner, regardless of personal schedules and commitments. That should be what CNY is all about. Sure, there are some notable absentees every year, but what matters is that most married couples do drag their families to meet up at least once a year, to have dinner. My bank account also smiles at that prospect.

The Re-Return (The Eleventh One)

2009-01-23T16:41:00.009+08:00

And so it ends. Approximately 5 months, 21 weeks, 145 days, and just before CNY, it ends. That's right, my attachment has finally ended.

Its been awhile, hasn't it? I guess the reason why I haven't been updating is because doing the weekly reports are just too tiresome. After the weekly reports, I end up being so drained that its simply so difficult to write anything else anymore. That's not to say that the weekly reports are long drawn essays, no no. They are filled with so little information, that its sooo difficult for me to just think of things to say. To think of even one coherent sentence is too impossible.

This little adventure isn't at its end, though. There's still the final report and final presentation to go. By the end of the next two weeks, I will finally be truely free and fully concentrate on going to the army. Oh, joy.

Well, I suppose i don't really have much to say at this point. I guess I'll end here.

The Tenth One (aka the bumper edition)

2008-11-10T19:43:00.006+08:00

Well, its be awhile since i last updated. Been having the writer's block. Of course, that is also a euphemism for being lazy, but honestly, I've been getting that feeling. That feeling of not being bothered to blog anymore. Thinking of how each blog post appears to the person reading it. The same reason why my prev one kinda died off.

On a (only very) slightly happier note, I intend to collect all the thoughts in my head, and release them into the wilderness that is the internet. (Which was the entire reason why I set up this damn thing in the first place.) Only time will tell if I actually bother to finish this long one. Let me start of in a slightly cronological order.

ULTIMATE (FRISBEE) Parte Uno

I went with eli and lwl to ParkView Square over Deepavali (Diwali?) for some ultimate. Two interesting things in that sentence; ParkView Square and ultimate. For starters, ParkView Square is a pretty awesome building. It is opposite Raffles Hospital, and diagionally across Bugis Junction.

Affectionately known as 'Gotham City', its a pretty gothic looking building, with a front porch adorned with statues of many famous people, including Plato, Winston Churchill and Sun Yat Sun. There is also a giant sculpture of a golden crane right in centre of the porch. On the first floor, there's a pretty impressive looking bar, with an equally grand toilet. Small, but pretty darn neat. Both me and lwl had some time to recce the place a little, as we waited a usually late eli.

Ultimate, on the other hand, is a game played with a frisbee. It looks kinda gay at first, because honestly, what's so difficult about throwing a frisbee around? Upon closer inspection, however, much technique is needed to actually make the damn disc go where you want it to. The ultimate (ultimate, geddit?) goal is to eventually throw the frisbee to the guy who's standing at the end zone, a la american football.

Why would I be playing this game, you ask? Well firstly, it was Deepavali. I wasn't about to spend a whole day rotting in front of the laptop. Secondly, after hearing eli wax lyrical about it for a rather long time, I decided to go down and see what the fuss was all about. Thirdly, I thought some exercise would do me some good.

However, it wasn't such a good idea. Mainly because it rained. No wait, that would be an understatement. It POURED. It poured so badly that I could almost hear the cats and dogs whining in pain after bumping off the sheltered walkway. lwl and I were left shuddering in the cold, finding places where we would be entirely safe from the flood-inducing rain. Crazy eli, ever the lucky bastard, arrived just moments before the rain died down, holding his palms out and wondering what the big deal was.

In any case, eli decided that since he was there anyways, he would disregard the increasingly subsiding rain, puddles in the field that looked like actual ponds, and general common sense to go down and decide to play some ultimate anyways. lwl decided that the puddles posed too much of a drowning threat and opted out. I, on the other hand, was stuck in between. To be absolutely crazy and wade across the shin level water to play a game that I never have, or to stick with my buddy whom I met in primary school, and been friends ever since, to be a sane person for once? It was a no brainer. I went snorkling in the pitch.

It was wet, cold, and muddy. There was lots of running around and not getting the frisbee in my hands at all. The one time I actually got my hands on the damn disc was when I somehow intercepted the guy I was marking, somehow quickly passed it to some other guy for the counter, and we somehow got the point. There were a couple other occasions where I briefly touched the frisbee, only for it to rebound off my palm for the turnover.

I spent what seemed to be an eternity running around aimlessly across puddles, only to run back towards where I came from. But when all was said and done, what I remembered was not the feeling of squishing the water from my wet socks against my equally wet sole of my boots, not my cramped calves, not even my mom shrieking in horror at my muddy cleats. When I looked back, I saw the other fellas on the pitch who were not even on my team taking time out in the match to deliver a few pointers to this noob who was obviously slowing them down. I saw the other guys play sportingly, so much unlike the other 'gentlemen' playing football (there's no referee!). More importantly, I saw what most other people can't see at first glance: that team spirit and genuine friendly-ness, even to a noob.

FRIENDS FOREVER (?)

I went back to np for a while yesterday, and managed to catch up on the latest gossip happening around the class now. Its amazing how quickly life changes. Well, I know that change is constant, but when major changes happen around you, you just can't help but be astounded at the magnitude of it. For one, its interesting how a good friend for years can just, in one fleeting moment, become a person you detest.

I've always stared at wonder at how lightly friendships are taken. It seems that people can just randomly create, and subsequently dissolve long standing friendships. Of course, we have all seen how quickly and unamicably Paris Hilton and Nicole Ritchie turned from BFF to lifelong enemies and then back again, but I have always thought of it as something that bored celebs do for some much craved attention. But it seems that such everyday dramas also happen in real life.

Of course, there are various reasons for such splits. Disagreements, somebody stole somebody's boyfriend/girlfriend, and of course, the perennial favourite, irreconcilable differences. It could start of with something small and highly insignificant, like that little, incessant twitch of the shoulder. Like how a single snowflake evolves into an avalanche, these little things add up. And by the time they're realised, its too late. The damage done is irreversible.

I've always thought of myself as a decent enough friend, willing to understand flaws of others enough to know that they will never go away, and at the same time looking at myself, deciding on things that I should work on. But lately, its been more and more difficult to do that. Perhaps its the curse of being too observant, but it is getting harder to just ignore those little things anymore. Those things that, if left unsaid, will lay undetected for years to come. Once pointed out, however, they become as clear as day and you ask yourself why you never noticed them in the first place.

He never was my closest friend in class. And now, we have what I would consider a friendship of convenience. It is so much more convenient to be friends with him than to not. And then, nightmare of nightmares, he starts calling me 'bro'.

Dude.

WTF.

I have better people to call 'bro', and I don't even call them that. You talk to me for the past couple of years and you think you have somehow ascended to the position of bro-hood? Come on. Try harder. Also, just cause I am there to listen to you whine like a girl about how lonely you are because ironically, you have lost a girl, doesn't mean I enjoy it. You ask for my advice? Fine, I give it. Not that you even listen to it. Its really not my problem if you choose to wallow in your own little pool of self pity, sighing to yourself all day. I would very much rather just watch safely from a distance, chuckling to myself at the sadness of man. It becomes my problem, however, when you somehow decide to rope me in and ask for my advice, telling me your problems which is seem oh so insurmountable, EVERY SINGLE DAY. Its bad enough I have to wake up at 6am every weekday morning and drag myself to work but YOU, you telling me your bloody problems just almost drives me to suicide. Got a problem? Suck it up, be man, and deal with it.

God, that felt good.

*TOO BEE UPDATED*

The Ninth One (aka Lunch. [Launch?])

2008-10-14T19:55:00.004+08:00

Since my attachment started, I have only been thinking of two things at any given time on a day to day basis. 12pm, and 5.30pm. Lunchtime is one solid hour of getting away from the drab white walls of the office, and to at least see a bit of the sun. All while filling up the stomach. It is a happy time.

But just yesterday, dear ol' Mr Sun decided to go on strike, leaving the damn rain clouds to take over the sky. And oh boy, did it rain. It rained real bad, because the canteen upstairs, the last holy scantuary of the whole building (apart from the first floor where I regularly spend about 5 mins about every 2 hours) was packed. The queue for the only food stall almost reached the lift, no kidding. I was forced to pick up some bread and bear not just with the agony of hunger pangs, but even worse, to bear with being in those 4 walls for a little while longer.

If hell were a place on earth, it would be a tiny room in the corner of Level 4, Corporation Place. Where time stands still, and you just sit. Sometimes, they give you stuff to do, but its all just a tiny distraction from the big picture; the fact that you will be forced to waste your life away for all of eternity. I swear, I have seen my fingernails grow while sitting on that highly comfy chair. Hang on, the left index looks a couple of millimetres longer now.

Thankfully, the radio, always the trusty companion, decided to give me a perfect way to redeem that awful day. Bernie, the boss of everybody's favourite BOTAK JONES, was in the studio today, and was talking about the new item on the menu. Wagyu beef.

For those not in the know, wagyu is widely considered to be one of the best breeds of cattle to consume. If you can only eat beef once in your life, try wagyu. Or kobe. The beef, not the basketball player. The two cattle are rather similar.

Anyways, after work, I quickly rushed down to the Toa Payoh branch to get my fix. It was 200gms of bliss. In fact, for 36bucks, it ain't too overboard, even if you're taking into account that the recent stock markets are plunging like Guo Jingjing from 10 metres, abeit not as gracefully.

It was a brilliant wrap up to the day. And I, for once, am satisfied. =D

The Eighth One (aka The One With The Rant)

2008-10-08T19:48:00.004+08:00

(note: this was done on notepad, and then cut and pasted.)

when was the last time you went to a hawker centre?

an actual hawker centre. one that can only be termed 'organised chaos'. as you walk down the aisles, the flames almost spill out from under the wok, threatening to set fire to anybody who attempts to walk past it. as you walk around the radius defined by that firen from the hounds of hell, a shout of 'SIAM AH!' rings through the air, causing one to almost jump. as you turn around to wonder at the source of the noise, the layer of grime on top of the tiled floor almost cause you to slip and fall.

now that, boys and girls, is what i would call an actual hawker centre.

the old market near my house that had been simply left alone for quite a few years just reopened. it was one of those really old markets. as in wet market old. the kind of place where you would be standing at the vegetable stall, deciding on the freshest and ripest tomatoes and all you would smell, is that stench from the drain. while pointing out your choice chicken hanging from the hook and you would smell the drain. and finally, just before leaving that market, you decide to stop by the fish stall. taking a whiff, all that lingers in the air, is the smell of.. you guessed it, the stench from the drain. indeed.

so i turned up at the newly refurbished place, hoping for the best. took a walk around, and i noticed a sign hanging around at every single stall i saw. either that was the flash of blue pieces of acrylic, or it was simply adorned on every stall.

'BANQUET', it proclaimed proudly.

oh boy, did i step into a trap.

it was horrible. i've always avoided like the plague any place where people consume food with the words 'KOPITIAM', 'FORK AND SPOON' and 'BANQUET'. havent exactly tried food rep yet, so cant complain yet. i avoid them not that the food is bad, although the food there is really mediocre at best. its just simply too clean, too orderly and too organised. the stalls are decked out neatly in a row, all stallholders wearing that neatly pressed uniform, just waiting for you to please, please, please buy your food from them. now i understand that has all to do with the increase in the standard of living, but maybe they did too good a job this time, because somehow, a clean and orderly place with people lined up in neatly pressed white uniforms just looks so strangely familiar.

and the was exactly like i expected. food was not the best around, prices were steeper than everest, and it didnt smell like one. it was quite amazing. a hawker centre (it had no air con, so doesnt qualify as a foodcourt) that did not smell at all of cooking oil. everybody knows that smell takes up about 60% of taste, so imagine my dispair when everything just looked so uniform, so clean and rubber stamped. sigh.

its things that these that take the soul out of 'soul food'. progress for the sake of progress should
never be encouraged. hawker centres are part of our culture, much like that kiasuism that so many of us are tempted to proclaim as our religion. do we really want all the food courts around to have that same same but different chicken rice stall, noodle and of course, the customary muslim food stall, all dishing out the same drab fare, shamelessly allowing our tastebuds and minds to accept such mediocrity on a regular basis, available at any of those franchised, brand-name food courts.

so, tell me, when was the last time you went to a hawker centre, and the soup accompanying the bak chor mee you ordered was absoulutely crowded with unidentifiable brown bits, much like that yellow cloud from the miso soup,but just tasted so damn good.

The Seventh One (aka The One With The Babies)

2008-08-31T23:16:00.002+08:00

Well, my attachment is starting soon. Tomorrow, to be exact. I'm still kinda apprehensive about it, mainly because I still don't know exactly how often I will have to go down to the Cooperation Place worksite. Its on the other side of the island for me, a lot more worse than going down to Ngee Ann from my place. But hey, I'll be getting 600 bucks a month, and hopefully, I won't spend too much of that salary, and have some left for my eventual car lessons. Which should conclude by the time I go into the army. Of course, all that is just wishful thinking for now.

Meanwhile, Mom's been busy, opening up a childcare centre of sorts, right smack in the living room. That's right, there are kids here now, only from the hours 8am to about 6pm. Effectively increasing the number of people within the house from 5 to 7.

This one's name is Gareth

And this one is Aaron

And, no, they don't do some kind of baby talk or any form of baby communication.

Having the kids over here has taught me one thing that I already knew, but just needed confirming. That us older, more mature humans have this innate responsibility to attempt to please, or at least make other, smaller beings laugh. The fact that they have absolutely no idea on what we are doing, or look silly doing stuff apparently does not prevent us from doing such stunts. Which means, the urgent need to please such objects of lesser neurological activity greatly predates the feeling of modesty. Which means that people most probably kept pets/ had fun with babies way before pandora's box was open.

Pets are probably nature's answer to couples who want kids, but can't be fucked to have kids. ('fucked', geddit?) They're cute, can only make noises, and easily satisfied with food. Simple needs, really. Its all any living thing can ask for. I've never really understood this urge to be accepted by animals. But I certainly do accept it. I like animals, for sure, but after all, it does seem a little needy to be accepted by an animal of all things.

No offence to any animal lover though. I'd love to have a dog, but my mom insists on being afraid of anything with fur on it. She was pretty pleasant to the terrapin and guppy. Dogs and cats though, are a whole other matter. She is the type who would avoid felines and canines as if they were those adolescents you see in the orchard underpass, holding on to a metal can with a slot on the top, just large enough it fit a dollar coin. The worst ones are the ones who camp at the foot of the escalator, and you happily get on the escalator going down, only to be suprised at the sight below. By the time you do notice them, however, its too late. There's no going back up the esclator, that would be too obvious. You would have to be forced to meekly surrender any loose change you have with you, and gratefully exchange said coin with a round sticker, and gladly paste that sticker on your shirt, proudly pointing at the sticker when another such school-going kid shoves a large metal can in your face.

The Sixth One (aka The One With The Cake In The Face)

2008-08-13T23:34:00.006+08:00

Just came back from the YEP bbq. Was actually supposed to be Han Song's b'day, but Ngoc turned up in Sg all of a sudden, then it turned out to be double celebo. Ngoc's actually one of the HueHelp volunteers that we met back in Vietnam, and my guess is that she's here for a holiday. But she's leaving tml, so I suppose it was all good timing then. She still seemed to be slightly out of sync with the rest of us, but was kinda mostly hanging out with the ECH people, I guess we don't have to feel too bad.

Anyways, enjoyed myself slightly more today, compared to other times out with the YEP people. I wonder why. Perhaps its the fact that it was a smaller, slightly more intimate gathering. Perhaps its the fact that the talk-cock session we had lasted 3 hours, despite that the fellas wanted to study. Perhaps its because some of the people who went YEP didn't turn up.

Exams are coming up. Had a lab test yesterday, completely and utterly buanged it. Badly. Really badly. Revision's coming up, and the retest is next thurs, and the wireless lan tech paper is on fri. Guess I can only blame myself not prepping enough for the test. Not that it was in any of the show runs that I recieved. Got a written paper tml as well, but its a multiple choice paper, so I have about 25% chance of getting each question right. Looking over the final test answers now, hoping some questions will happily pop out in the paper tml.

Cake in the face then. As is customary in most birthdays with a cake, the birthday boy (or girl) has to have some cake smashed into the face. Of course, we couldn't resist letting him off this time round. And thus, the cake in the face.

Nonetheless, he seemed happy enough.

And the group pic.

Thought of the day comes from a song, titled 'Thou Shalt Always Kill', by a pretty half decent duo, Dan Le Sac Vs Scroobius Pip. Yeah, its a wierd name.
'Thou shalt give equal worth to tragedies that occur in non-english speaking countries as to those that occur in english speaking countries.'
Lot of meaning, that. Especially now, when Russia is still having problems with Georgia.

The Fifth One (aka The National Day One)

2008-08-11T18:24:00.013+08:00

Well, as you can probably read, this one is about the national day, which befell upon us on Saturday, 9th aug. And as usual, I, unlike many other Singaporeans on that fateful day, was not sitting in front of the tv, eagerly awaiting for the parade to start. I was at the esplanade park, just metres away from the floating platform, eagerly awaiting for the parade to start.

Let's wind back to the day before the national day, however, as there is something else rather important that occurred on that day as well. I was involved in the national day celebrations in Ngee Ann. A royal waste of time. But I certainly hope the short presentation helped to improve our already very good impression in the principal's eyes. Basically, the plot was that there were 4 different news stations, and the 4 get switched around, resulting in one finishing the other's sentences, providing, or at least I hope, some comedy. The audience seemed to like it though. It was kinda a waste of time, all four of us involved actually didn't want to commit any time into this thing, because exams are around the corner, and our involvement wasn't really necessary. They could've just gotten any other random cca to gather a group and perform. And I was told that I would be going up on stage to utter a few lines only two weeks before the event itself! The script, meanwhile, was handed to me only one week before we were due to perform. So you could imagine how disgruntled we were.

That's not say it was all doom and gloom. There were several bright moments in the rehearsals. Such as the hot chick in the dance group. We christened her 'St Margs'. Simply because she was wearing a St Margs' PE shirt on the first day of rehearsal. She was the reason why we all turned up for the combined rehearsals. Okay, I might exaggerating a little, but it wouldn't be an understatement to say that our day brightened up considerably upon seeing her.

Anyway, the performance itself wasn't too shabby, the audience managed to get the jokes, turns out the powerpoint slides did much to help them understand the jokes. Or maybe they were just amused by the pictures. Either way, we exited to rapturous applause. Brilliant.

Mixed Signals, And The Infinite Monkey Theorem, by

Pompous Picasso (Kash)

Brainy Look (Bala)

Peter Blabber (me)

and Go Nut Choo (Godwin)

National Day. A day of red and white, a day where many swell with pride, and for the Esplanade park, a day of banglas.

That's right, me, ky, ys and nick decided to bravely go to the Esplanade, in hopes of seeing some decent fireworks and attempt to soak in the atmosphere of the national day. What we didn't count on, though, was the banglas. We arrived at city hall mrt and were immediately treated with a sea of people, all presumably heading for the parade. Apparently Citylink Mall was entirely jammed up, so we had to take the overground route to the Esplanade. There was a constant group of people just following us, and as always, several illegal stalls set up, selling drinks and titbits, hoping to profit from Singaporeans and foreigners hungry from the walk, while entirely disregarding the numbers of police just patrolling around.

We hurridly made our way towards the durians, only to be treated with yet another mess of people. Somehow, we managed to squeeze ourselves into the crowd, facing the future IRs, and stationed ourselves under a tree (highly appropriate given our surroundings) to avoid the trickling of rain, just in time to see the paratroopers drop down.

The paratroopers are kinda small.

The pics aren't the best, I took em with my phone. Guess there's no such thing as the best of both worlds then. It was a pretty good spot, we could see the large screen of the floating platform, and we probably could've seen the fireworks erupting from the cranes at the future IRs. So we shoulda stayed there. Too bad then, that I suggested that we move forward, and try and squeeze in with the banglas, and attempt to get an even better view.

I swear, I will be back when the IRs are up, and take the same pic from the same spot. Also, it was kinda packed.

So we bravely ventured forwards, straight into the mass of banglas. Almost immediately, we started to regret it. The smell was pretty overpowering. You may ask, dear reader, what in the world were banglas doing there when its our nation's birthday, not theirs? Well, to that, I have no answer. I can only guess that they were excited about our nation's birthday and wanted to catch a glimpse of it. And they have every right to do so.

Anyways, we beat a hasty retreat, and wanted to get to the Sheares Bridge, which promised a better view. Unfortunately, the road was closed. So we had to go back down to the underground to come back up at Marina Square, loop a big loop around the floating platform enterance, and headed for the promised land. Then came the jam. The ramp up to Marina Square was absolutely packed. There wasn't much moving happening around, and while we consoled ourselves that it would be much better once we got past the bottleneck, located at the brow of the hill. It was proving to be a long journey up. Then came the planes.

B-E-A-U-tiful.

With the fly-by of the planes, everybody looked up. And thus, stopped moving. Oh joy. So we spent alot more time up there.

IT WAS PACKED!!

Eventually, though, we managed to up to Marina Square and slacked there for awhile, before snapping some pics of the fireworks. Went for steak after. Expensive stuff. Cost me about 45 bucks. But there was unlimited drinks, so that made up quite abit. Went drinking after, at where else, Persepolis.

The Fourth One

2008-08-10T01:25:00.005+08:00

Second day of Singfest08. Got up bright and early, only to be told that we had to man the carpark booth. Dammit. But I suppose somebody had to do it. And so, me and Qaiser plodded along to the carpark, set up a barrier, and attempted to explain to drivers that only cars with a pass, or were elites going over to the ballet school picking their kids up/going to the country club. The carpark in question was actually the carpark for the artists enterance only. Unfortunately, somebody forgot to tell the audience that the carpark was going to be closed, and we were thus given the highly unenviable task of telling Singaporeans that there was to be no parking in that particular carpark. Lucky us. Basically, we just asked the drivers of their destination, and that would sorta give us a brief idea of if they would be allowed to enter the carpark of not. And of course, as with all traffic diversions, we caused a major jam. But hey, we weren't exactly to be blamed, we were just doing our job. Which was a pretty boring one. Except of the few highly pompous men who insisted on going up to the country club despite us telling them that there was a huge bottleneck just up ahead. Well, whatever floated their boats, I hope they were happy with their decision. On second thought, maybe not. I hope they were cursing on the way up, regretting that they didn't listen to the two kids at the foot of the slope, and rethinking their policy of not allowing their baby little girls who just finished ballet lessons to walk down the bloody slope, which would take all of 10 mins. And its bloody downhill! Grrr.

Second half of the day was slightly more interesting, though. Managed to go into the backstage area a la the first day, but had to stand around this time, as the emergency exit fiasco had already been solved, by simply tying the fence up with the mustafa-style cable tie. So all we had to was to check for people with the right passes. Which was impossible to do at night. Which resulted in me just simply standing around, allowing for more pics to be taken compared to the first day. Brilliance. However, I also had the secondary job of sitting at the back, trying to prevent stragglers from climbing over the fence and into the Singfest08 grounds. A pretty redundant job, as the problem would be solved by making the fence just about 2m tall. Nobody with a right mind would attempt to climb over that. Unless he was Yao Ming. But then again, nobody can really tell how much of right mind those mats are in. So me and Qaiser took turns guarding the back fence and the ramp to the backstage. And all access passes were required for the guy manning the back fence. It was just a simple piece of laminated paper, but we were oh so happy to get out hands on it.

Overall, the second day was kinda more boring than the first, given that we were getting berated for doing our jobs properly. But then again, I got mistaken by Alicia Keys' bouncer for being an actual security guard, so I had to prevent people from walking around Keys' path to the backstage. Made me feel kinda important. Got to see all the bigger stars for the second day, including the Pussycat Dolls and Keys herself, but didn't manage to get pics of them, just too much security all around. They had a permanent entourage of people just following them around, much like moons of a planet rotate on a permanent axis around the planets. Okay, I'd have to be really bored to make that kinda comparison. And I am.

Keys' bouncer. Nobody dared to mess with him. One punch and you'll probably just fly off somewhere.

The Third One

2008-08-05T23:02:00.010+08:00

Worked at singfest08 over the weekend. It was absolutely brilliant. Got to see all the stars at backstage. Basically, I had to stand around to check the tags of the people who were walking around the area behind the stage, because not everybody had a tag which allowed them to. Of course, I ended up with really sore feet just standing around. Job also involved lots of running about, just doing random stuff.

First day, met up with Jason, Nick and Qaiser to rush off to fort canning. Fastest way was obviously to take a mrt. Too bad then, that we underestimated the distance from dhoby gaught mrt station to fort canning. It was torturous. Ended up climbing up the hill, right to where the enterance was last year, only to find that particular enterance closed. -.- Anyway we went round the whole place, and saw another bunch of people wearing black. Kinda assumed that they were gonna do the usher thing, just like us. Turns out that the area this year was only about twice of the area that they had used up last year. Walked in circles around the sprawlling fort. By the time we found James, I felt like I just ran 2.4 in 10 mins. And then some. It was HOT. And I was wearing a black shirt. Not the best combi ever, unless you're trying to do some experiment involving the human secretion of liquids in order to keep the body within normal temperatures. My shirt was almost dripping with sweat.

Anyway, we quickly gathered around. The four of us were just standing around, when this guy came around the us and quickly assumed responsibility of us. Turns out he was going to be our supervisor. He actually told us his name, but for convenience sake, I decided to simply name him 'boss'. Several reasons for doing so, but the main one was that his name was some chinese name, just like mine, and I didn't manage to catch it too quickly, so labeling him 'boss' seemed to work well enough. He was also quite a noob, and didn't quite know what to do as well, he simply told us that we were gonna be stationed at the artists' area. =D My wish just came true. Then, he disappeared. Just as we were discussing the availability of another black shirt since we were gonna work for two days straight, boss appeared, and asked us for our sizes. Turns out that there was going to be tshirts for us to wear, identifying ourselves as officials. Soon after getting his required info, he stealthily blended into the crowd again.

After a while, we got out shirts, apparently sponsered by levi's but the material felt really cheap, and the printing even cheaper. Best of all, it was still black. The one redeeming point, however, was the words 'singfest08 security' proudly, and cheaply, enblazoned on the back. Those words on the back of the shirt were almost worth the torture of wearing black on such of hot day, under direct sunlight.

So we were assigned our spaces to station ourselves at, Nic and Jason were stationed at the far end of the backstage, right under a tree, where it was cool and calm. Lucky bastards. Qaiser and me, on the other hand, were stationed at the artists' enterance, where the lack of a raintree nearby became increasingly evident as the hour hand approached the number 12. The bench was just out of reach of the rather sparse shade provided by the tree nearby. We ended up sitting on the grass, enjoy some form of shade.

The hours slowly trickled, just as the humidity of my shirt increased. The first act got up on stage. Then, almost out of bordom, my stomach started growling. Then, Qaiser told me he was hungry. But the catering from Kriston's was purely for the artists only. Out of the blue, almost by the will of god, the Kriston guys wearing absolutely ridiculous uniforms, might I add, laid down a bunch of plastic giant plates right beside the Primesafe Security guys. Being absolutely top guys, they signaled us over, and inside each piece of blue moulded plastic, was a little piece of heaven. There was a platter of extremely sinful cheesecakes that simply melted in your mouth, not in your hands. That wasn't all, there were also steamed mussels topped with cheese, and tempura prawns. Utter brilliance.

Rejuvinated by that little picnic of ours, we started doing our job properly again. New Found Glory and Melee soon came up, then a bunch of groupies appeared at the emergency exit, which also led to backstage. Very quickly, spine-chilling screams rang out.

'RICHAAAAAAAAAARRRRDD!!!!!!'
'I LOOOOOOVVVVEEE YYYOOOOUUU!!!!!'
'OMG, MY LIFE IS OVER NOW!'

We were both extremely freaked out. The uncle calmly sitting behind, on the bench, gave us a knowing look and without a twinge of embarassment, turned to the groupies, and simply replied 'i love you too.' And thus, the groupie handling begun.

That's not to say that there weren't others with some kind of neurologial power hanging out at the emergency exit as well. There was one bunch of 15 year old girls who were there with their absolute nutcase of a friend. The nutcase wanted us to tell one of the lostprophets that she absolutely 'loved him, and wants to marry him', despite the rather obvious snag that she was merely 15. Kids nowadays are so interesting. Anyway, we had a pretty decent chat with her other friends, one of whom was horribly hot. But of course, there's the pretty obvious snag that she's 15.

So as the night wound down, I rushed forwards to take some pics of the bands performing. Got there was still some space on the side of the stage, so I rushed in, and snapped pics of Melee, lostprophets, New Found Glory, and Simple Plan. Anyway, when Simple Plan got off stage, I asked Pierre for a pic of the guys. He said 'yeah, shoot'. I turned around, and signaled Jason to come over to help me take a pic. He, as usual, was stoning. I had to shout his name rather audibly for a few times before he finally walked over. Then, I turned over, only to see Simple Plan walking away. They never even stopped walking. Oh well, I think they were in a rush anyways.

Whne it was time for the audience to leave, there were a bunch of people who wanted to leave via the emergency exit. Turns out, there are many people who do not realise what exactly constitutes an 'emergency'. For them, an emergency was when they needed to leave. For the organiser, though, an emergancy refers to a fire breaking out, a riot, or maybe, just maybe, Selamat bombing the place. Extremely drama moment then, as they demanded to be let through the exit. We decided to let the organiser defuse the situation. There was a pregnant woman that was there as well, and her argument to be let through was that the long walk to the main enterance and then back to the carpark would result in her having a miscarriage. Well, that's a nice arguement. Main flaw though, was that if she was so liable to having a miscarraige, what in the world was she doing at a rock concert? Surely the jumping around wasn't going to be good for the kid. Or, what if, horror of horrors, some punk got overly excited and nudged her? The organiser had a long chat with them, insisting that they were not to be let through the exit, Then, she took out the ultimate weapon. She turned on the waterworks. She bawled her eyes out, almost just like her kid would in the future. The (presumably) husband simply started patting her on the back. Luckily, the organiser was also female, so the tears had absolutely no effect on her. That was brilliant. After a while, they decided their attempt was futile, and meekly left.

Worst thing of the day, though, was that I lost my all blacks shirt. Yes, the very same shirt that I bought for 60 bucks, and had wore only twice. My extremely sweaty shirt that I had left on the bench. All of us lost our black shirts that we wore there. Damn losers took our shirts. Idiots. The banglas couldn't have been the ones who accidently cleaned it up, because the bunch of bottles were still on the bench, and neatly arranged. Assholes.

Second day of Singfest08 coming up soon. Meanwhile, I'll leave you guys with an interesting thing one of the 15 year olds said while the other groupies were busy proclaiming their love for the artists.

'I don't love you, but I like your music!'
How true.

the mussels were brilliant, but it all just felt really illegal.

the much haralded 'emergency exit'

Can't be bothered to upload the other pics. After all, they're already on my facebook. Those who don't have facebook *looks at eli*, well too damn bad.

The Second One

2008-08-01T14:38:00.004+08:00

Well, just worked at the national stadium on monday for the sg vs brazil match. Rather expectedly, the sg team lost. But is only 3-0, fellas, its okaaaay. I suppose the boys did well, gave a pretty decent account of themselves. Didn't catch much of the match though, was kinda busy working. And being affected by a highly doubious wanton/fishball stick sold by a malay guy just outside the stadium. It reaaaaaally hurt. A lot. Like hell.

Work itself was highly interesting though. I was supposed to be tearing the stubs off the tickets. Unfoturnately, the gate was just a little bit too small. Allowed just about 2 people, walking side by side, in at any one time. And there were a lot of people. Like, A LOT. At the peak period, which is just seconds after the kick-off, the queue was really long. And they were all anxious to get into the stadium proper. Well, too bad. We were the ones creating a bottleneck, with our unbudgable insistance to check every student ticket holder for a matching ez-link card, and largely due to our relative awkwardness at tearing the tickets. (we were n00bz) Anyway, all the factors cumulated into one major result. People behind started pushing forwards, the people in front started being pushed forward, and we, the friendly neighbourhood ticket tearers, started pushing back. Needless to say, many of the people so eager to see the local team get absolutely trashed by the brazilians were late for the match. But its okay, they didn't miss much anyways. Once again, we see the best demostration of the Singaporean Paradox. Always late, and yet too afraid suffer the consequences of being late. Sigh.

There were actually 10 slots available for the job, and naturally, the first person I turned to was Jason. That was a no-brainer, given how free he is now. The other slots were a litte more tricky, though. And, being the friend-less guy I am, I called Eli, who really should be the spokesperson for Carlsberg, given his world of friends, for help. And call he did. Somehow, he managed to conjure up 4 more of his friends and I was, for once, allowed to take a peek at the other friends that Eli has. Of course, I had already met Kel, but there were a few other interesting personalities.

I do realise that sometimes, there are parts of your life that you would keep quiet from others. For example, I don't tell too many people that at night, I lead a seperate life, known to many as simply "Iron Man". On the other hand, what I am talking about is the smaller stuff in life. Many of us just live behind a facade, happily behaving normally, or at least, in a way that avoids direct critisism. In other words, they conform. They tweak parts of personality, or simply conceal them, simply because they are afraid of how others might view them. But who's to say what's "normal" or not? Why allow somebody else, directly or indirectly, affect to way you live your life? And yet, the dilemma of life defines that such traits are easier said than done.

Got another job coming up next, at none other at....SINGFEST! The one this year isn't as awesome as last year's, and that's not just because a7x won't be coming down. Okay, that MIGHT actually be a pretty big reason, but the other, smaller, reason is that it has simply become so much more 'mtv'. Take a look at the line-up. Melee, Simple Plan, Travis, OneRepublic, Jason Mraz, Panic At The Disco, Pussycat Dolls, Alicia Keys. I'm not saying its a bad thing, they're all huge, huge names. And yet, let's compare them to the line-up last year. Sugar Ray, Shaggy, Pet Shop Boys, Cobra Starship, Gym Class Heroes, Avenged Sevenfold, MxPx. Comparatively so much more indie and less mtv. Sigh. And I thought there was finally going to be a music festival in sg that wasn't all about mtv stuff. That just totally explains why I'm not going spend my good money on a ticket to Singfest 08. I'm just gonna work there. And getting money from it. Not too bad a deal, I suppose.

If you're managed to keep your interest to the part of the entry, I suppose I have to give you, dear reader, one last thought. Well, here it is.

fuzzy wuzzy was a bear,
fuzzy wuzzy had no hair,
fuzzy wuzzy wasn't fuzzy,
was he?

The First One

2008-07-28T11:16:00.003+08:00

And so it begins. Launch of the new one. All of sudden, all the thoughts that I had developed in my mind for all the subsequent posts on this particular page seem to slip away. Oh well.

As I look into that deep, dark night sky, framed with those approximately twenty-floor HDB blocks, I realise that there are simply no stars to be seen. How amazing. And yet, the reason is oh-so-simple. Bright lights created by us clever humans are just simply too bright to allow those tiny, weak little sparks of lights, no matter how fiercely they may burn millions of light years away, to be seen. Wow, that was an extremely long sentence. Thanks to those 'achievements', I can't even sing 'look at the stars, look how they shine for you' without feeling a little bit dumb. How ironic then, that the every progress we strive to achieve, also results in us being unable to enjoy the simple pleasures in life, just looking at bright things in the sky.

Ah bright things. Us humans just have that unexplained fixation with anything bright. Or shiny. Or gleaming. Whatever the case, anything with those qualities are just simply more valued than other stuff. Even just the most basic carbon can become highly valued. Even the brighter metals are greatly valued. Such a deep, primal and instinctive trait that we all just simply have.

And that, is the paradox of humanity. We work hard to do things harder, better, faster, stronger, but at what price? But then again, paradoxes are perhaps some of those things certain in life. Batman has Joker, George Bush has Osama bin Laden, and I have time. Well, that one fell a little flat. But whatever the case, one simply cannot live without the other. Black is nothing if unable to be compared with the white. People wouldn't feel hot in the summer if the winter wasn't so cold. Its all just a matter of providing a guage for us to compare with.

Anyways, its getting kinda late, and I'm losing this mood of pensiveness. Gotta end soon. Bye.