decisions decisions

I'm sitting here trying to convince myself to go and ride with Old Man and company and everything in my head is not being very encouraging. Yeah guess the thought of being left behind again isn't a very motivating one.

Ah well....time to get changed.

The new Adidas Giranos are nice but damn they're heavy...

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Shit the timing got changed and my frikkin backlight is not working....

And I can't help but admit I'm a little relieved.

here we go again?

Standby week till this Sunday

Go all the way to frikkin Changi from Kent Ridge

Got zero pack items and my boots have turned white

Who got car can loan me for the week?

weird

Isn't it weird
Isn't it strange
Even though we're just two strangers on this runaway train
We're both trying to find a place in the sun
We've lived in the shadows, but doesn't everyone
Isn't it strange how we all feel a little bit weird sometimes
Yeah, ooh

Isn't it hard, standing in the rain
Yeah you're on the verge of going crazy and your heart's in pain
No one can hear, but you're screaming so loud
You feel like you're all alone in a faceless crowd
Isn't it strange how we all get a little bit weird sometimes

Whoa, sitting on the side, waiting for a sign, hoping that my luck will change
Reaching for a hand that'll understand, someone who feels the same
When you live in a cookie cutter world, being different is a sin
So you don't stand out, but you don't fit in
Weird

Whoa, sitting on the side, waiting for a sign, hoping that my luck will change
Whoa, reaching for a hand that'll understand, someone who feels the same
When you live in a cookie cutter world, if you're different you can't win
So you don't stand out and you don't fit in

Ooh, isn't it strange
How we all feel a little bit weird
Strange, how we all get a little bit
Strange, how we all feel a little bit weird, sometimes
Oooh, just a little bit weird sometimes

days of yore

Just the other day I happened to hear part of a panel discussion about the newest round of changes our beloved education.

Yes I'm being sarcarstic.

Well anyway, they call up one of the panelists and lo and behold, its none other than my ol' ACS (I) principal!! Didn't hear them call out his name but the second I heard that voice I just knew who it was.

And immediately got caught up in a burst of nostalgia.

All those days started by standing in front of our classrooms and feigning interest while he went blabbing about yet another achievement or award or initiative or reasons for us to donate money. Can still remember him swaying in front of the mike with an almost obscene repetitive motion. He'd go on tip toe and jut his crotch out for a second or two before pulling it back again. Hands behind back, feet lightly spaced and.....there we go...

The best is yet to be la....

of bt and italians

Well what a week its been. Been a loooong time since I last updated here and not least because of the gauntlet of schoolwork I seem to be having to run week in and week out. But at least now I have some breathing room. 7 days to the next essay deadline. Phew. Beats having 4 essay deadlines and 1 mid term test in that same space of time.

But anyway, thanks Justin for helping me let it all out with the invite to BT!! Shit man. Barrelling down a steep craggy slope at breakneck speed knowing a little loss in control could mean disaster is just so damn therepeutic. But then you wouldn't know would you eh Justina? Haha. I have got to start doing this regularly.

In other news, took part in some street soccer competition on Sat and lo and behold, we made it all the way to the quarter-finals! Unfortunately that also meant that I'd be late for my grandma's birthday dinner, to my mom's chagrin. Picked this up from my cousin during the dinner though:

'I've come up with the perfect anecdote for the Italian football team.'

'Whats that?'

'Watching the Italians play football is like watching a your clothes in a washing machine.'

'Hmm..how so?'

'They're both unbelievably boring....and everything you see is tumbling around.'

history lesson

Sunday was special because I actually managed to have a conversation with my parents for longer than 5 minutes without me getting into a fight with them, or them getting into a fight with themselves. Somehow conversation drifted to what Singapore was like when they were growing up and for the first time in a long long long long time I found myself fascinated.

My mom talked about how my Ah Gong used to give her 20 cents a day to eat and she'd skip all the laksa and char kway teow sellers for the ice balls, sweets and candies resulting in her losing a bunch of her teeth to decay when she was relatively young. She's been wearing dentures for as long as I can remember but I never did know the reason. She talked about how hawkers those days couldn't afford to buy eggs and cai dao kway was an eggless affair with loads and loads of black sweet sauce. If you wanted an egg thrown in you'd have to bring one of your own and they'd cook it for you for no extra cost. How you could lower a basket with money in it from the window of your flat and bring it back up with whatever goodies the hawker downstairs was selling. And of course she made some comments that nearly sparked a big fight but we managed to hold our tongues and let her be.

My dad went on about what it was like for his family during the Japanese Occupation. He was born after that was over but my eldest uncles and aunties had all been present. In fact I might have one more uncle today if it wasn't for the occupation. Seems he got sick after eating or drinking something and died soon after. He talked about how my paternal grandfather had to go out fishing and prawning in the river when there wasn't enough food and how he'd have to bring my eldest uncles along to help. How they'd have to bear with the sight of decomposing bodies floating in the river because that was where all the prawns and fish gathered. How they'd have to put it out of their minds that the food on the table had been feasting on human flesh just a while ago. My dad was really lucky I guess. Well relatively lucky anyway. Up till that day, I'd had no idea, no inkling of what my paternal grandfather had been like or what he'd looked like. No photos, no stories no nothing.

They told me about what it was like going to school and getting sent back home in a hurry during the racial riots and how my mom had been scared out of her wits. Singapore's come so far now I just can't imagine the streets empty and policemen at every other junction. At that time, going out on the streets was akin to a deathwish.

Some things never really change though. My dad told us about how a platoon from 1 SIR got badly mauled by Indonesian troops during the Konfrontasi because they'd found a nice clearing beside a stream to relax and then kena ambushed. HAhaha that just sounds exactly like what Singaporean soldiers would do today. Except now they'd be arguing about who gets the curry flavour and who gets the prawn flavour maggi mee too. Well ok at least my platoon would've been like that.

Ok guess I'd better get to class already. History class ironically. You can learn a lot in school, but the most poignant classes happen at home..