the only constant is change

The title of the post makes it sound like a script for a horror movie but this is actually just an announcement that the lonely corner terrace house next to the church has finally snagged a loving family.

The house has been sitting forlornly empty for so many years since it was built. All its siblings along the same row have been either been sold or rented on a continous basis - except this one for some reason. Maybe people have something against living right next to a church - they might think we'd descend upon them daily wildly flapping tracts and squawking hymns like crazed banshees.

Well, being the lovely people that we are, of course none of that would happen - or at least, during office hours.

So about 2 weeks ago I noticed some workers at the unit doing some general maintanance work like hacking through the tropical jungle that used to be the front yard, painting over rust stains that have burnt grooves in the walls and generally trying to give it an air of livability. A few days later little signs of new life started sprouting - a child's bike, some shoes, a trash bag...etc all started appearing one by one.

Well, I'm glad we no longer have an abandoned house by our church. Here's hoping that we'd both be good neighbors in the years to come.

I love these bendy-mirror things that help you see round a corner. Wouldn't life be much simpler if we could look just a little bit ahead?

For instance, you could know the $45+++ per person buffet you were about to enjoy with your date at a romantic restaurant was going to result in the both of you sprinting to the bathroom while spouting unprintables. For 3 days.

Or you could know that the $500 limited-edition Levi's jeans you've been saving up for will go on sale at $49.90 two days after you've bought it; and will come with free Cafe Cartel dining vouchers, too.

Who needs mind-altering drugs when events like that will permanently blow an artery somewhere in your body?

I think at some point in our lives all of us have made a dent in our forehead and wailed,

"Aiyah! If only I'd known! I would have_______!"

Well of course. Knowledge certainly is power isn't it? But surprisingly, people will still make all the wrong moves, even with the necessary information. For instance, I know that staying up late will put me into sulky and cantankerous mode the next day but I do it anyway and crawl out of bed in the morning with guilt and regret (and don't even get me started on the maturity-projecting eye bags and character lines this involves...).

On the other hand, having the bendy-mirror of life would also mean no surprises, no thrills, no ripples in the lake. And I guess that would make my placid life even more ho-hum than it already is.

I need a PBKK.

The moment finally arrived.

I froze at the open mailbox with the letter from ABRSM in my hand. I was on my way to a rehearsal and wondered if I should open it then, or when I got home.

"I would be too distracted during the rehearsal if I left it for later," I reasoned, "but I would probably end up in a really foul mood if I read it now."

Decisions can be a real pain - especially emotional ones like these. I knew that I wouldn't fail, but I also knew that I wouldn't do well. It was simply a matter of finding out how close to the fire I was.

The painful memory of my botched exam was causing my mood to take a screeching nosedive. Ok that settled it. I'd read it.

The first green sheet contained general information about me and the exam. I looked through it carefully. Hmm, no evaluation anywhere. I turned the page with dread.

Ah, the examiner's yellow comment sheet. His scrawled comments accompanied by a score for each of the 5 songs and 2 exam segments for sight singing and aural tests first caught my eye. I braced myself for an emotional beating as I started reading them carefully. To my surprise, they weren't as scathing as I thought they would be. In fact some were quite positive. Out of a possible 150, my grand total came up to 126.

My heart skipped a beat. That wasn't so bad, was it? But what exactly did that mean? I wasn't sure since I had never taken a music exam before. I studied the second sheet again; then I saw it:

Total required to Pass - 100
to Pass with Merit - 120
to Pass with Distinction - 130

An indescribable sensation overcame me. I wasn't sure if it was relief, disappoinment or pure consternation. Maybe it was all of them enmeshed in my pounding heart. I was thankful I didn't fail, but to have come so close to a distinction!

That's when I realized what had gone so wrong during the voice exam, and why I felt the way I did after it. It had nothing to do with the fact that I messed up on the first song. It was because I had ceased to give my best for the remainder of the exam. I had admitted defeat before it was over.

How many times had I done just that in my life? To falter and to give up? This weakness in my character seemed to crystallize itself into a heavy jagged rock; it spun wildly through my inner being and ripped at the facade of carefully-constructed accomplishment. It was an agonizing moment of crushing truth laid bare.

I don't want to feel like this. Ever. Again.

The whole experience that began earlier this year suddenly made perfect sense. This had not been merely a test of vocal technique and musicianship. This had been a test of life.

And the test that I truly messed up on had been this one.

I was in a sweet mood this morning. Now don't misunderstand and start imagining me in an impossible state. What I mean is that I had a hankering for something sweet.

So before setting off on my usual trot to work, I made a teeny detour to an equally teeny neighborhood store. You know, the kind which crams as much merchandise as possible into the space of a storeroom while the shopkeeper stares listlessly at the mini-television on a dusty shelf. I was looking specifically for the new blackcurrent-flavored mentos but, as I expected, they were all snapped up leaving only the evidently inferior orange and citrus mix. But, wait, *double -take*, gasp, do my eyes deceive me?

This is what is meant by serendipity, folks! If you take the time to search for something good, you might just find something great! In this case, there's nothing greater than the hallowed combination of chocolate and peanut butter in a chunky Kit-Kat bar.

*swoon*

Lately, Nestle really went all out in revamping their Kit-Kat line. In addition to the well-known regular 4 finger slab, there's chunky, white, mint, orange, strawberry, cappucino, espresso and now, the ultimate marriage in chocolate-dom, peanut-butter.

Someone at Nestle deserves a huge raise!

Just in case you are unaware, I love chocolate and peanut-butter together. So it was with pure unadulterated relish that I unwrapped this candy that could launch a thousand ships. And when I finally had the bar of sin sitting snugly in my tum-tum where it belongs, I started thinking about how change is vital to keep something fresh, and in turn, wanted. For some reason Singaporeans dislike sameness in their lives. We are constantly looking out for all things new and innovative.

I recalled an interview with an Italian restaurant-manager now based locally was featured in the Straits Times a few months back. He said that he had to constantly evaluate and concoct new items for the menu because Singaporeans expect novelty. He lamented the lack of tradition in our culture and gave the example of how Italians would return to the same restaurant for 20 years because the food doesn't change.

Do we really always expect something new and different all the time, I wondered?

Well, yes and no. Would I eat only regular Kit-Kat bars for the next 20 years? Probably not. Would I use my current laptop for the next 20 years (barring the fact that technology only lasts the lifespan of most insects)? Probably not either. Would I wear the same clothes for 20 years? Ugh, I definitely would not and I know you don't want me to either.

I guess, like most Singaporeans, I like variety and choice.

But, in the same breath, I do like certain things to remain unchanged. I enjoy listening to music that touches me, even if I have heard it all my life. I like watching my favorite movies over and over, even when I can recite almost every line. I like playing my favorite RPGs every so often, even when I know what will happen next. And I love re-reading books that I find enjoyable and significant, even when I know how it ends.

So what's the happy medium between progress and tradition?

Variation! And if it's a variation on an old fav, like the venerable Kit-Kat, well, that's ideal marketing because you've got a clever fusion of cultivated taste and fresh style, thus ensuring a longer lasting appeal with finicky consumers.

And you know what? The good folks at Nestle sure hit the sweet spot with this one!

An old black box has been sitting stoically in a corner of our house for many years. I know it belongs to me, but I can't recall what I'd placed in it. My mom would ask me from time to time to discard it but I kept putting it off because I had been busy with important projects like saving the world...etc.

So last night I finally decided to demystify this black box of intrigue. I fumbled with the rusted latch and it creaked open reluctantly. I peeled back the cover hesitantly, half-expecting a colony of creepy-crawlies to launch an assault on me. Imagine my surprise when I found old letters and cards that I had saved from many years back instead.

I immediately hauled the box to my room where I dug its contents out and excitedly spread them over my bed, forming a paper kaleidoscope of colors, shapes and sizes. There were aerograms, postcards, birthday cards, letters, notes... and they were from once-special friends in my past. I couldn't believe I had saved these little remnants of those relationships.

I spent the next few hours poring over the letters and cards. The most recent ones were nearly a decade old. Memories that I thought had died came flooding back as I read each handwritten thought and wish. Many brought a smile to my face as I revisited the bygone days of each friendship - the joys, tears, hopes, dreams and fears all laid bare in carefully penned ink.

But what of them now? Where have all the lofty aspirations of an eternity as friends dissipated to? These people have all fallen off my radar and are now somewhere in the world, living lives and making choices that have absolutely nothing to do with me. I suddenly felt like I was reading the intimate thoughts of strangers.

That realization brought a lump to my throat.

How little we understand of life in the egotistic centricity of youth, brimming over with passionate abandonment for tomorrow and her promises! As the reality of today gradually sinks in, the ties that are connected by dreams that can never come true atrophy into nothingness.

It's as if they were never there at all.

Except this black box has preserved their memory for me all these years - and now, I will have to release them back to the faded dreams on which they were once built on.

A gentle rain fell from the pale grey skies;
she is ready to be sent home.
The hearts of the living strain at the ties
that should never become unknown.

The love that she showed in her days in the sun
is returned by the silent crowd;
now composed of tears and regret come undone
for the time she has ceased to give out.

Her name, on a stone marking where she will rest,
will be all that remains on this earth.
But, we know a new life, for enduring the test,
has embraced her in Heaven above.

My usual lunch buddies were MIA today.

On Saturdays, I usually have a gang of face-stuffing professionals with me as we raid the nearby food centers during lunch. It's always a fun time; catching up with one another, arguing over non-issues and, of course, rating the food we eat. Well, I guess it was bound to happen one day that all of them would not be available.

One of them is having a good time in Malaysia visiting his grandparents and uncle. Another one is having an equally good time turning down lunch because he has to study. Another one is about to have a great time at a mysterious lunch appointment, and yet another is having the best time saying she's not hungry.

But never fear, for there are two others today (who are not normally in this lunching crowd) who agree to accompany me - but to add insult to injury, I get into their car ONLY to have them tell me they desperately need to go someplace far off that I can't go because I need to be back in the office by a certain time.

So where did all that abandonment leave me? Well, unceremoniously dumped by the roadside blinded and choking in car exhaust as they sped off.

Sigh. Covered with soot, I trudged to the nearest MacDonald's where I intended to shorten my lifespan by ordering one of their popular meals. The ever-attentive staff sprang up to the counter with glinting grins as I approached and coerced me (in the most friendly way, I might add) to order a Fillet-O-fish meal with, gasp... curly fries? Yes, you heard that right. Macs has now added ultra springy and seasoning-coated curly fries on the menu! I love them! Too bad their burgers are still kinda blah (but that's just what I think).

So despite the fact that I believe fast food is really, really bad for the body, I ended up enjoying my lunch in a masochistic way after all.

Ever had one of those days where suddenly everything happens? You know, where the things you have to do triple and you find yourself scrambling to keep up before you get fired?

Well, this is one of those dreaded days for me.

Ok so it started yesterday, but it's more or less under control now. And of course, being the astute audience that you are, you'd know that the reason it's under control is because I've had to wrench myself away from this blog. So you must be wondering,

"Why on earth are you here again if the work isn't done yet?! Get cracking, you no-good, lazier than a hibernating bear of a bum!"

Now, now, just calm down. I'm just taking a widdle break. A MUCH deserved one, I might add, after the frantic frenzy of the morning. Ahh, now I'm just easing the tension a little, sipping a cup of soothing camomile tea in my bright orange mug and just spacing out in general as I do 85% of the time.

*low whisper: the other 15% is usually spent eating or sleeping*

OK, WHO DIVULGED THAT?

Whatever. I've come to realize how important breaks are in my life - I don't know how people can slog at the same thing for years and think it's perfectly normal. Maybe you can condition your mind and body to believe that. Or you have a gigantic paycheck carrot. Or you have no paycheck carrot. Hmm, there are lots of motivating factors, aren't there?

Well, I need my space and the freedom to do something different every so often- to wander away from the routine and just enjoy being me. I think that's vital to good mental health. Some of you will be quick to point out that the state of my mental health is in dire need of long-term professional help; well, just imagine what life will be like for you if I were working 24/7!

So anyway, learn to take a deep breath and reward yourself with something from time to time. Savor Godiva by the beach, listen to your favorite artiste, SMS a good friend or post something intelligent on my blog. The possibilities are yours. So enjoy it.

Or least, try to!

Having a new look on the blog must be an inspiring experience as I'm ready to post again. It's not even past an hour yet! But already here is a sagely thought for contemplation.

Many moons ago, I came across this wonderful saying in a Christian resource magazine which I knew would be an important reminder for me in the ensuing years. I typed it out in some weird font which I thought was cool then, printed it on a boring piece of A4 paper and gleefully laminated it. Today it's still stubbornly blutacked to my cubicle partition. Here is what it proclaims:

"Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens. Circumstance and situations do color life, but you have been given the mind to choose what the color shall be" John Homer Miller

I can't count the number of times I recited this (not the whole paragraph, just the essence) to myself when I was seeing nothing but boiling scarlet. Over time, the distance between red to green gradually closed. Green, btw, is what I associate with tranquility and calm - think gently swaying foliage overhead, a bubbling brook by the side and cool grass under your bare feet.

Today, I have a much better grip on my once-volatile emotions. And I am also reminded that it takes a strong person to hold back in the heat of explosive anger. Maybe it's age, but I like to think it's wisdom.

So choose your color wisely!

Ok so there must have been too much lucidity last night since I can't see or think too clearly this morning.

I was curious about how some of the templates would look on my blog so I thought I would preview them. Click, click, click. I was sure I didn't save over anything; but lo and behold, there was a jaw-droppingly unexpected hideosity to my blog when I opened the page and all the pertinent stuff on the side bar that I created was lost for ever and ever in cyberspace!

So after resisting the impulse to scream in agony and eat fried chicken (they always occur together), I realized the quicker I snapped back to my senses (not that there's very much) the better it would be. So I reattached my jaw, took a deep breath and set about making right what I unwittingly made icky.

And since I had to redo the site I thought I might as well give it a new look. So there you have it. Same valuable insights and ground breaking content in a spiffy new outfit. Neat huh?

Spending real quality time with close friends is one of those luxuries in life we rarely get to enjoy. That's why I'm so glad I had a chance this evening to sit down with two good friends for a meal (a really big meal...too big, in fact); and to just talk about everything and nothing in particular. Over the endless helpings of gluttonous proportions, hours flew by swiftly as we candidly shared experiences, rambled about ideas, exchanged silly jokes and just laughed at each other and at ourselves.

Completely at ease. Open and vulnerable. The usual walls are gone. Why can't I feel like this naturally?

A lucid moment like this along the fuzzy road of life is what I really look forward to for it brings a measure of quiet truth and, ironically, crystal-clear sanity to all the madness we otherwise face. Here's to many more such moments in the years ahead! Thanks for the memories.

Hurray! One of my (few) birthday presents this year from two thoughtful friends is a beautiful book on an introduction to digital photography. Now I can embark on a perilous quest to be the most sought-after photographer in the history of mankind!

As a videogame, my new adventure sounds suspiciously like a lame rip-off of the tried and proven Pokemon phenomenon. As one of my many impractical fantasies, this is completely reasonable and achievable. As an idea rooted in reality, it's ludicrous enough to invoke days of howling laughter in even myself. So there.

Well it was nice pretending for the duration of a sentence!

Anyway, real life beckons so it's back down from the clouds: I've flipped through the book and I see that there is a lot for me to absorb and understand; there will be a dire need to begin some assiduous in-depth study. Hopefully, as I attempt to apply the principles in my future award-winning snaps I will also have loads of fun along the way. The concept is still murky but I'm contemplating a gallery exhibition next year even though there's a high chance I will be legally barred from approaching a picture-taking device forever and also be banished to where electricity is yet unheard of.

Hmm... tough one.

Today was a slow day that I was savouring. I got up late, almost 10:30pm, had a quick breakfast and casually flipped through the papers before setting about to reply to the SMSes that had flooded in since dawn. Mostly birthday wishes, too! I didn't even know I had that many friends.

After that I decided to catch a movie at Tampines so planned to be there at noon. Needless to say, I got stuck in front of the computer and didn't leave the house till 2pm. I am always amazed at how time just FLIES when you're in front of the computer, but let's save that amazement for another groundbreaking post some other time, shall we?

I arrived at Tampines and wandered around Challenger for a bit, hoping to spy a gift for a friend. No luck. I headed to Century Square where I purchased one ticket for 'Charlie & the Chocolate Factory' and meandered in a dazed fashion till about 3pm.

The happy ending finally rolls and the lights fade on. I sort of liked it. The cinema erupts into a low excited chatter as I stretch and try not to hobble too obviously on my way out; I tell ya, getting older is just...I mean, it must have been the, erm, lousy seats! Yeah! I will be writing a strongly-worded letter of complaint to the management soon. *insert appalled expression and indignant tone of voice* How can they expect the paying public to put up with such sub-standard seats?

*replace appalled espression with one of serene and radiant kindness* Well, this being my birthday I suppose I can let it slide...

So anyway, I had arranged to meet my parents at the basement of Tampines Mall outside Crystal Jade Restaurant at 6pm. The time after the movie was 4:50. Yippie, I could shuffle around the vicinity and blend in with the kids in school uniforms. And it's a good thing I did (shuffle around, I mean) because I ended up buying a pair of Springfield jeans that I'm actually glad to own. I had been wanting to get a pair of jeans for the longest time, but because most jeans that are available are kinda blah (sorry to all you blah jean-lovers out there) I had held off for the day that one unique pair would catch my eye. Well that day finally arrived - this one was interesting in its cut, stitching and color so I bought it without much hesitation. That really made me happier than a Fiona Xie fan crashing into Fiona Xie at the hawker center while carrying 4 bowls of laksa on a tray; until I remembered I still had not found the gift yet!

I headed down to the restaurant as it was nearing 6pm and met my parents there. We had a nice quiet meal together as is fairly typical of most of our meals, except this was in a place where I couldn't just show up in a pair of shorts without someone calling the police in a panic. We were fairly early so the place wasn't too crowded yet, the service was prompt and efficient, and the food was delicious. It was a very satisfactory dining experience.

After that I had to return to church for FTK rehearsal. The people in this group are good singers, but pretty lousy actors so I knew that they were scheming something for after the practice but I just pretended to be oblivious to their lift-file-to-cover-face-while-whispering level of conspiracy. It was all very sweet of them, of course; and they genuinely had me curious when they all surrounded me with evil-looking metal spoons before bursting into a badly sung "Happy Birthday"because it was in the wrong key. I thought they were going to gouge my internal organs out to fulfill an ancient birthday ritual involving me, a few million dollars and a lifetime of fame; but it turned out they brought premium ice-cream for the occasion - Chocolate-Chip Cookie Dough by Ben & Jerry's and Strawberry Cheesecake by Haagen Daaz. Eventually I received an equally evil-looking spoon, too, so I was relieved I didn't have to eat ice-cream in a barbarous manner with bare hands. Yum!

After that I went on home and heaved a contented sigh as I sank into my comfy leather chair in front of the computer. Looks like I'm going to be here a while, so before I forget: a big THANK YOU to everyone who sent me birthday greetings and/or gifts. I really appreciate them.

And if you haven't sent anything yet, I gladly accept belated gifts with a generous and forgiving spirit :)

As a teenager, I used to love writing poetry. I didn't write alot though. Usually they were very depressingly serious ones about the angst that I was feeling at some point or other. Or they would be dumb little limericks I cooked up to bug someone. Well, mostly they were of the latter...

So last year, I was chatting with a friend online; and I can't quite remember how the conversation ended up in that direction but bascially she challenged me to compose a poem for her on the spot. Being the brat that I was (or am) I took up the challenge with the intention of writing one of my famed limericks for some laughs. However, inspiration would lead me down another path that suprised even myself. Here is that work which I thankfully saved (and therefore retained!). I hope you all enjoy it.


I Saw A Rainbow In The Sky
by August

I saw a rainbow in the sky
as I was in the park today.
It framed the clouds, way up high,
as I viewed it where I lay.

And all around were others
too consumed in the here and now
that they couldn't see the colors
stretched across the heav'nly bough.

My heart was lifted by its sight -
a quietly surprisingly find.
And despite the ebbing light
it held fast like a magic line.

I saw a rainbow in the sky
as I was in the park today.
It faded when the day did die
but in my mind will always stay.

~ Friday, March 12 2004

The article that I contributed to my church bulletin this week was innocuously (and uninventively) entitled 'The Best Is Yet To Be'. Coming up with snazzy titles is always one of the more brain-racking aspects of writing for me. A good title has to effectively convey the essence of its contents in a witty fashion with high hip factor, preferably under 5 words, and be completely original to score readibility points, because who wants to read boring articles prefaced by equally boring headings (e.g. How To Create Your Own Shitake Mushroom Farm in the Privacy and Dampness of your Own Room).

Anyway, this fine morning, after the choir rehearsal, a visibly enraged individual sprang up to me, his knuckles white with clenched fury. Apparently he had read my article.

"You stole the motto of my school for your article title!", he spat in a low breathless hiss while staring poison-tipped daggers by the thousands at me. The fact that I was in the sanctuary with witnesses probably saved me from being mercilessly mauled to a grisly heap.

Ok so maybe he didn't actually read my article, I mean, I didn't think it was appropriate then to query, but the title sure caught his eye. And I was mildly disappointed that his school couldn't come up with a more innovative motto (what with all the time and meetings educators spend on adminstrative red tape). Of course, while I couldn't do any better myself I did have to spend some brain cell-burning moments vascillating between using 'be' or 'come' for the title. After much hemming and hawing, 'be' won out because I thought it added a certain fluidity the other choice lacked. So "The Best Is Yet To Be" it was.

Guess I should have gone with option B and made everyone choke on their words.

Yes this is a really common adage and I was reluctant to use it intially. But at the same time, I realized it wouldn't be fair to discredit it just because it's used by peppy sales and marketing people the world over to pump themselves up for a day of aggressive telemarketing. The fact is, I think this statement contains a great deal of overlooked truth and is something that we should all remind ourselves of every so often in life.

If you see yourself as having reached your ideal place in life today, then you would probably be still at that same 'ideal' place this time next year. And the next, and so on till the day you pass on, or wake up with the awful feeling you get when you realized you've just discarded something irreplaceably valuable like premire tickets to 'Titanic III: The Return of Jack'.

People often say that life is a learning continuum. I'd like to add that it should be a conscious learning continuum. We have to actively choose what to assimilate or build up in life so that our future will continue to bring forth dynamically new and positive experiences.

Here in Singapore, we spend all our youth and early adulthood getting force-fed chock full of academic 'goodness' so much so that many of us can't wait to finally end the horror by entering the workforce by age 12. Of course that doesn't pan out and we are shackled to the MOE till no self-respecting institution will take us in anymore. Then we stop. Phew.

The problem is - some stop 'school' for the rest of their lives. They become content with just cruising along in their established routines and lose the ability to imagine how expansive and varied the world out there is.

We have to keep looking ahead and seeing what we have to offer ourselves in the days to come. Once we believe we are done with learning and growing, well, I see that sad moment as when the play-and-rewind cycle of life begins. It's like the snippets of action movies screened at Courts to showcase their widescreen TVs. No matter how exciting the segment is, there's only so many times you can to watch it without developing a psychotic urge to blind yourself.

Mundane? You bet. Dreary? I don't think you need to try it out to tell.

So is the best yet to be? Well I hope that's true for you. As for me, I hope I never lose my love of investing a liquid afternoon with my head in the clouds, fantasizing about the endless exciting possibilities of a glorious tomorrow. Of course, I'd have to get off my lazy butt sometime and actually make one or two of them come to pass, so, yeah, I'll start now.

Or not. Erm, tomorrow morning, ok? Really!

I'm finding it great fun to compose a collection of B&W images about a particular theme or place. The previous two from my home and the office kind of spearheaded this new development as I grow more comfortable penning my thoughts. Now I can also share my literal view of the world around me through my little camera. Thus I proudly announce the official launch of the Thematic Montage Series!!

*rapturous applause and globe-stopping mass hysteria lasting exactly 26.3mins*

Thank you, thank you very much! Today we shall enjoy the intricate details of a good friend who will be sold soon. *sniff* Good-bye and here's to you!

I was busy looking busy today when the phone on my desk pealed urgently. I scrambled to answer it and here's what transpired (well, more or less):




Me: Good afternoon!
Mysterious Stranger: Good afternoon!

Me: Yes?
Mysterious Stranger: Yes?

Me: Who is this?
Simon: Who is this?

Me: Oh, how are you doing?
Irritating Simon: Oh, how are you doing?

Me: Aiyah, what do you want?
Even more irritating Simon: Aiyah, what do you want?

Me: I'm busy la.
Super irritating Simon: You busy? Doing what?

Me: Why didn't you reply to my sms?
Surprised Simon: What sms?

Irritated me: The one I sent on, erm, Monday I think.
Totally perplexed Simon: Huh?

Even more irritated me: So anyway, what's up?
Person who is actually not Simon: I was wondering about this week's blah, blah, blah...

Red-faced-but-played-it-smooth me: Well, you see, it's like this blah, blah blah....
Dinesh: Ok then, see you tomorrow.

Relieved me: Ok, bye.
None-the-wiser Dinesh: Bye.

Click.

My dad has an old friend who manages a used piano store. I always feel a little sad when I'm there. I can't quite say exactly what makes me feel that way. Perhaps seeing row after row of broken-hearted pianos crying for human touch reminds me of my own lonely piano.

Usually I wander among them, playing a few notes as I pass, listening to their different tonal colors. I wonder how many were abandoned by children whose parents had forced them to begin piano lessons. I wonder how many had ever enjoyed the touch of a master pianist able to gently coax from it the sound it was designed to produce. I was told that some of the more expensive pianos were imported as decorative pieces - polished trophies reflecting the owner's wealth. Over time, the lack of proper use and maintenance causes these pianos to lose their initial beauty of sound. Then they simply get discarded.

My dad tells me that after these good pianos come into the store, if they can be repaired, they usually get sold rather quickly. At least there's still a tiny market for good quality pianos.

Yesterday, I came across this beautiful old French grand piano. It had intricate carvings accentuating its lines and curves. If pianos could be aristocratic, well, this would be it. I thought about how the craftsmen who had worked to create this piano might have stood back to admire their own handiwork. They might have hoped that it would be well-appreciated and would bring much aural and visual pleasure to music lovers. Now it was just another unwanted piano.

How many of us have squandered opportunities to learn something new and different in the course of our regular routine? These pianos are like the skills and experiences we eagerly embrace but don't keep up with in our lives: 2 years of music lessons, 6 months of art classes, 1 semester of language class, 4 weeks of roller-blading instruction, 2 weeks of self-help home courses, 1 week of a healthy diet, 3 days of spiritual-formation workshops... the list is a near-endless collection of the forgone and ignored.

Maybe it's not sadness I feel, but shame at the time I've wilfully thrown away on useless pursuits.

There was a small bust of Beethovan painted a garish red sitting by a pillar at the store. How appropriate, I thought. For Beethovan would most certainly have gone insanely furious at the sight of these pianos falling into disuse. To someone like him, for whom music comprises body and soul, there might be no greater insult to see such disregard of a musical instrument; especially when he himself no longer was able to hear.

Let's not wait around for regret to fill our days, shall we?

"I should just go right back to sleep and ignore all calls till noon", was my first evil thought of the day when my eyes flickered open to the pervasive morning darkness, "but they'll never let me forget it for the rest of my life."

And that's what propelled me out of bed today. A group of us had planned to take a morning hike on the HSBC treetop trail at MacRitchie Reservoir today, which happens to be National Day. After a cheery breakfast at Pasir Ris, we sardined ourselves into the back of a lorry and away we were whisked.

The morning air felt refreshingly invigorating and the trip there was laced with peppy talk. We arrived with unintentionally creative hair styles and began with much gusto at around 8:00am. The lush canopy of towering trees created comfortingly cool avenues of sandy trails eked out by countless determined footsteps.

The group soon fragmented into pockets as the gung-ho types forged ahead. Initially, I was in the elite group but was soon abandoned because of my refusal (read: inability) to run. I found myself trudging alone for a while and following the low-lying signage designed for fairies, gnomes and people of similar builds, I eventually made it to the meeting point without getting embarassingly lost. When the rest arrived in varying degrees of exhausted regret, we found some time admist the groanings and moanings to capture this bedraggled moment for posterity.

The view from the suspension bridge (hence the treetop reference) was supposed to be the breathtaking 'reward' for waking up needlessly early on a national holiday, and also from all the even more needless effort of dislocating our knee caps and hips joints permanently to get there. Admittedly though, it was a moderately fun experience to traverse the length of the bridge and feel it sway gently in the wind (or it could have just been some brats pretending to be macho). However, it felt more akin to walking from tree to tree as opposed to being on top of them.

Fortunately, the sky was a delightlful clear baby blue and we were able to take in the majestic and rare sights of HDB estate flats looming in the distance beyond the rustling greenary. The first time I was at the exact same spot last year I spied a hawk soaring languidly above. Today, there was no such luck. It probably had had enough of gawking crowds pointing rudely at it and crassly shouting, "Eagle! Eagle!".

The end of the suspension bridge (ordeal for some) signaled the start of a long journey back. Strolling families and couples were out in full force along the narrow paths and trails so maintaining a steady pace was a much-needed exercise in patience and body-contorting weaving technique. You'd think years of intensive training in our local shopping malls would have been sufficient. For self-amusement, I kept imagining myself shoving screaming people off the trails into the bramble, festering swamp or human-sized Venus Fly Traps.

When we finally emerged from the ankle-twisting trails to nice normal paved paths for nice normal people at the edge of the Singapore Island Country Club golf course, yet another hurdle presented itself in the form of deadly golf balls traveling near light speed. Hopefully no one has died from getting assasinated by a stray golf ball (or I'm sure it would make a newsworthy article in the 'Wan Bao' complete with unnecessarily gruesome pictures).

Good thing none of us will make the front page of the 'Wan Bao' tonight! We all gathered safely at a grungy little hill-top cafe overlooking the reservoir around noon for some rest and drinks, and to trade horror stories of the experience; and not a moment too soon, for a passing shower provided some timely relief from the mounting heat.

When the rain subsided, we made our way to the parking lots and clambered onto the back of the lorry, a little gingerly this time, before heading to Long House Food Center along Bukit Timah for their alleged famous fare. I wasn't feeling very hungry, most probably due to the fact that I was feeling grimier than a hygiene-oblivious coal-miner on double duty. By a stroke of excellent timing, after sitting down, the large misting fans perched precariously on the ceilings were turned on to cool the voracious diners (not just us, but everyone in there). And by some horrendously lousy luck, the one I sat closest to was the only one not working in Singapore. Oh well, the rest of the motely crew tucked in heartily (and, to me, inexplicably) to sinful delights such as prawn noodles, extra large plates of moist chicken rice and triple helpings of goreng pisang. I just had a slice of their famous papaya since I was apparently the only one who didn't want the morning's 'work-out' to go to waste! Well, at least until dinner time, maybe...

Good morning, everyone! 'Tis the day before our nation's 40th birthday, and here I am in the office. I'm not supposed to be here, but it's a colleague's birthday today so I agreed to swap off days with him (not that I usually do anything of real significance on my days off anyway). Well, here are more random shots of breathtaking 'artistry', this time from around the office.

It's hard work thinking up subjects to snap when one finally has their long-awaited (ok, so not that long) dream digital cam in their possession!

I'm not very proficient with using it yet so most of the shots I've taken are sadly only fit for my horrified eyes and the Recycle Bin. Guess I need to read up a bit more to unravel the mystery of what the settings on the camera's LCD screen actually mean and do. The manual is, unsurprisingly, no help at all; which is probably why they printed 'Basic Reference' on it, I suppose - it only tells you what the buttons on the camera represent.

Ok, that means I need to do some research on photography terms and techniques. Sigh, why wasn't I born with that knowledge like the rest of the populace? In the meantime, here are some devastatingly 'artistic' shots of random objects around the house and a very unamused pet (for you jokers out there that refers to the cat, not the fabric frog)...

Try to contain your raging jealousy, people - but it's ok, I won't hold it against you if you can't.

I am now the proud owner of the slimmest digital camera known to mankind! Those of you who have read about my quest for this elusive camera will be aware of my steely determination to scour the universe over and over till I got my grubby hands on it. And guess what, I didn't even need to leave town. A kind gentleman, who must have picked up on my obvious desperation in the many pleading posts that I've left in various tech forums, contacted me today with an offer I couldn't believe nor refuse: a used limited-edition white Casio Exilim S100 - the precise tool that I've been needing to bring this showcase of my warped and somewhat meaningless ramblings to the next pathetic level! I wrangled, I mean, negotiated a good price with him and met him less than an hour ago where I finally was able to add this gem to my small but deadly arsenal of things to collect dust with (btw dust bunnies are fun and easy to own; they are pretty much self-sustaining)!

Seriously though, with this sleek beauty in my pocket, watch out, y'all! But first, I have to learn to use it... now if you'll excuse me, let me try to find the "ON" button.

The sting of my voice exam experience has somewhat lessened over the past 3 weeks (which is good); but I'm also beginning to realize the direction of my journey towards musical excellence is somewhat hazy (which is not good).

Ok so before going on I suppose there is this need to provide a little background info here: my initial purpose for taking the voice exam was so that I could 'upgrade' to the Masters program at Singapore Bible College (SBC). I withdrew from SBC after last semester but went ahead with the exam anyway. And so now that the disaster of an exam is over (read previous post 'Voice Exam Fiasco' for more juicy details), I'm not sure exactly where to go from here. There is definitely lots more to study and refine in terms of vocal technique and expression, but in the course of focusing on my voice development I have put improving my piano skills on the backburner.

"Ah! Why don't you just study both?", some of you cleverly surmise.

Well, I definitely can't and won't do that (you sadists!) because that would destroy what little social life I have and thereby put me in the running for "Person-who-desperately-needs-to-get-a-life of the Year" award. Piano playing does not come naturally to me and I will have to invest much more time perfecting a musical phrase than I would with singing. Besides, it's also economically disasterous for me to embark on both simultaneously since I will literally have zero savings at the end of the month after the weekend trips to neighboring countries, new clothes, new tech toys, new videogames and fine dining adventures that are unquestioningly paramount to survival (I'm kidding, as you should realize, about all the above although it's sadly a fact that I simply can't afford to have two teachers on my payroll).

So what's a guy to do? Can one achieve a rounded musical education by just training in a singular discipline? To have a greater sense of musicianship and a better grasp of perfomance technique (I think) that a musician must explore other avenues (musical or otherwise) to compliment and nurture their passion. So think aloud here with me, will you? I stop voice lessons now, take up piano lessons for, say, 2 years with the intention of taking my Grade 8 practical, then resume voice again. In the meantime, I will also be studying to take the Grade 8 theory exam though no real time frame for that has been set yet.

"Why put yourself through all that unspeakable horror of inhumane torture and needless suffering?", some of you plead, tears of compassion glistening in your eyes, "This is pure madness!"

Well, my dear friends, my musical education is something I see myself actively pusuing for a long time to come. Right now, it's just getting the various elements in the right order that I'm trying to sort out. Along the road of life, my passion for music is worth my giving up many things that I would otherwise desire for myself. We have only one chance at making our time here on earth a meaningful and fulfiling one. For me, I feel that music is my gift, and therefore I want to enlarge my musical education and training in order to be able to use this gift wisely.

Oh, I guess I've made up my mind which direction to venture towards. Thanks for listening.

So I'm trying to purchase this simple little digital camera, right? I mean, now that I have this blog up and running, I totally need a digital cam to help me capture embarassing moments of my friends and post them here for the world to gawk at. So after much agonizing research, I finally decide upon the little Casio that you see here. And it's only a 3.2mp camera since I only need it primarily to upload pics to this blog; but guess what, the stores no longer carry this model because: A) it's only 3.2mp - people want more, and B) the 5mp version has been released.

So that really ticked me off. I don't want to pay all that extra cash for the additional mp which I don't need. Why is there the notion that someone wouldn't want a 3.2mp camera today in the sea of 4, 5 and even 7mp digital cameras swirling around the market? The 3.2mp is more than sufficient for my needs!

It was the same way when I sold off my Nokia 6260 for my current Samsung E630. People were asking, "So what can this Samsung do?" and I said, "It can make calls and allow me to text." The crowds were appalled. "Gasp, you downgraded?!"

Yeah, the Nokia had the ultra-cool swiveling screen and the flexible Symbian O/S but at the end of the day, I hardly used more than 5% of what it was capable of doing (so why did I buy it in the first place, you ask? Well, let's NOT go there today because I have different point I want to make, ok). Right, as I was explaining, I barely used the potential of the Nokia and had to lug that brick around just for calling and texting; well, it finally dawned upon me to just trade it in for a smaller phone that will do just that. Duh! And that's how my love affair with the sleek Samsung began, but I'll save the gushing for another day since, like I said earlier, there is a different point I want to make (now pay attention and stop making me repeat myself).

And that point is - technology should serve my needs; and not the other way round. I simply want a product that will do what I need it to do - in other words, I want a good-looking and svelte 3.2mp digital camera that I can hide in my pocket and brandish for quick candid snaps in order to fill this blog with interesting pictures for your viewing pleasure. Is that so tall an order?

Not everybody wants a swiss-army knife type product that is a world-class mp3 player, 7mp camera, slim phone, multi-tasking PDA and deadly flamethrower at the same time. I hope that manufactorers will continue to design products that specialize in one thing and ensure that they do what they do well.

In the meantime, I will keep hunting for a used unit of that elusive camera... hey, I guess a new journey has just begun.

Ants are crawling all over my desk now. These little pests appear when there is food (in this case, it's a piping hot Old Chang Kee curry puff) and if I'm not careful the goodie I've laid aside will be infested with them in mere minutes.

I have no idea where these darn ants come from. I work on the fourth floor so they must have been attracted to something really heavenly to come foraging all the way up here. The point is, once they got here, they wanted to stay. We've even tried those ant poison pellets a while ago, and it seemed to work initially, but to everyone's chagrin the little resilient buggers (no pun intended) bounced right back and now they are an unwelcome part of the office staff.

Of course, the endless squishing of even more endless teams of tireless ant scouts got me thinking. Ants are like the parts of our character that we need to change for the better. Like them, our ugly side surfaces when the right condition manifests itself. For some people this side might be an explosive temper, or an immediacy to criticism. For others it might be a tendency to shirk their responsibilities, or find escapism in non-constructive ways. And for some it may be an overwhelming desire to pile their plates sky high with the most expensive food items at the buffet table, or maybe muscle their way into the MRT for fear of being stranded at the station... the list goes on like a steady stream of scurrying ants.

Ok that was a bad analogy, but anyway, for me, I think that I allow my temper to get the better of me when things don't go my way. While I don't go on a ballistic murderous rampage, or hurl verbal abuse and lethal thunderbolts at any innocents who cross my path, I realize that I do spend a fair amount of time mulling, griping and sulking over it. The event doesn't consume me, but it stews in my mind and bubbles enough to remind me that I'm bothered. It's like getting a scratch on your brand new mobile phone- it's doesn't prevent you from using it normally, but it does make you feel a tad upset each time you use it.

So this is my ant; and it always creeps out of nowhere when the time is right. I must have wasted numerous hours in my life following this ant around whenever it shows up, muttering under my breath and concocting fantasy torments to inflict upon those who have inadvertently crossed me. Next time, I'll try to remember to just squish it. For good.

Good friends are a rarity; so it's with a twinge of regret that one has to acknowledge the demise of a once-close friendship.

I met an old buddy for dinner yesterday. With both of us leading such, ahem, 'busy' lives a full year zipped past before we were able to set up the meeting. I suppose I have never been the kind of person that's fanatical about organizing makan sessions for the sake of keeping touch; I don't even send cards; nor an occasional sms just to say 'hi'. Hmm, guess I'm pretty much just a regular guy who's needlessly obsessed with reading up on new gadgetry and upcoming videogames (read: major nerd) and who doesn't have an inkling about making sure good friends stay, well, good friends (read: social imbecile).

So what's the solution to this severe blight of losing a friend every year; and since I'm not making any new ones the pool of social supporters grows ever shallow? Well, this is one of those things in which I know what I'm supposed to do, but of course, I just don't do it for some mysteriously obscure reason. And yes, laziness can be categorized under 'mysteriously obscure' in my world, as can be apathy and possibly even wanton greed.

Anyway, I will try to set up another dinner meeting with this friend who actually only lives a mere 10 mins away from me (*hangs head in shame*). Yes, yes, I know I'm awful, but remember it takes two hands to clap. I can only do my part and hope that he does the same.