Ignoring Ignorance

Just went downstairs and bought some chips and a can of Jolly Shandy Lychee (Bagus!). Figured I need a little alcohol(0.5%!) to begin this blog post. My aim for tonight is to finish this blog post, watch an episode of Gays Over Flowers Heroes and tuck myself in bed. All before 3am.


I was working today, as usual, doing the same old boring stuff. It's pretty taxing trying to act enthusiastic and happy just with your voice alone. Good afternoon Transcab! Screw you. Do you need a taxi now? Screw you. Where are you now? Screw you. Where do you want to go? Screw you. Please hold the line and wait for the taxi number and thank you for calling Transcab. Screw you and hope your taxi crashes.

Just kidding. I'm not so angsty.

Anyway, the purpose of the entry today is to highlight an conversation I overheard. I was seated in between two middle-aged women who well, loves talking and unfortunuately loves doing so while being loud.

S (My Indian supervisor): Hey Y, why is the China man downstairs listening to Cantonese songs?

(Coincidentally, one of my favourite songs, Hao Xin Fen Shou, was the song that was playing.)

Y (My Chinese colleague): Yeah, Ah Hong knows how to speak Cantonese mah.

(Ah Hong is the diesel man guy who's in charge of collecting payment for diesel)

Me: ...

S: Huh really ah? How come China people know how to speak Cantonese? I thought they only speak Chinese?

Me: ... ... ...

I swear I felt like taking out my Secondary 3 History textbook, flip to the page - that shows how our forefathers left their family back in China, sailed through the rough oceans with their small little boats, slogged their life away as coolies and eventually creating a Singapore that we know today - and stuff it right at her face.


And I imagined myself rounding up with this statement. "Our forefathers are from China and the dialects we're using in Singapore are all naturally brought over from there!"

But with me being Mr Calm and Collected, I didn't for obvious reasons. You don't mess with your supervisor and get away with it. Besides, I'd rather save my breath for paragraph two. (Scroll up.)

And from my supervisor's ignorance, I saw an uncanny resemblance to myself back when I was completing my 3.1 semester in TP. During Destination Bullshit Class (Or better known as DPD)

I never had an Indian classmate before, despite 6 years in Chongzheng Primary and 4 years in Ngee Ann Secondary and 2 years in Temasek Polytechnic. And thus I didn't have a single friend who's Indian. And as fate has it, I was finally in the same class with not one, but two very nice Indians.


But you know me, I tend to be a little overeager at times and say things that loosely translated, didn't go through my big brain. And so I striked up a conversation with K. The lecturer, Mr Thiru, was talking about some country.

Me: Hey K, so you visit India often? Nice place?

K (with an amused expression): Once. Was having a holiday.

Me(trying to sound matter-of-factly): Huh once only? Don't you have relatives there? I mean with you being Indian and all.

K (with an amused expression and a tinge of irritation): No. I'm Singaporean. My relatives are all here in Singapore.

Me(alarmed): Oh right oh right.

And the conversation ended there. With me overwhelmed with embarassment and shame. Heck, I haven't even been to China before. And my relatives are either in Singapore or Malaysia, that's all. Moral of the story: There's a huge difference between Chinese or Indian national and Chinese or Indian Singaporean.

And we are Singapoooooooooore, Singaporeaaaaaaaaaaaans!

Running For Joy

10 minutes 27 seconds.

Good enough for Napfa but not quite there yet for IPPT. Yeap that's right, that's the amount of time I took to complete 2.4km over at school Temasek Polytechnic. With Wei Jie running along with me and Guan Zuo monkeying around with a soccer ball.


Could have been better I guess. Afterall, my personal best was around 9 min 30 seconds. That was back in my heyday, 5 years back, when my fitness was at its prime. Funny how I'm talking like an old man when I'm just 20 years old. And I can't even enter Genting's casino without fooling the door bastard bouncer.


Actually, if it weren't for the damn IPPT and to enjoy playing soccer better, I wouldn't give a hoot about running. It's one of those things that the "process" part sucks. For example, I may feel as tired after a round of tennis but at least it's fun. You know the joy it brings when you hit the ball with the sweet spot? It's orgasmic. Now you know why Roger Federer is always smiling.

Because he hit the sweet spot.

Whereas for running, on a track especially, it's too damn repetitive and boring. And it takes immense mental strength to keep going and keep running. Well, for people with not-so-strong mental strength, they'll simply go "Left right left right left right left.. fuck, I've got a stitch.. right.. left.. Nabei why dapai got stitch wan" and they'll stop and vent their frustration by kicking something in which they'll miss, fall and sprain their ankle.


But it isn't all doom and gloom, else the man from Kenya, Ethiopia, Congo whatever, who completed the 10000m race in world record time is a very very depressed man.

Bekele Kenenisa from Ethiopia

Hmm, doesn't really look too happy eh? Well, never mind.

Unlike other sports, the joy or whatever it is that makes you want to run, comes after the run. It is also after completing a run that you can tell yourself, "Yes! I'm now an freaking Iron Man!" and that all the struggling, swearing and cursing was all worth it.

It's like event management. There will be an immeasurable amount of sai gang to do but at the end of the day, if the event succeeds à la Wei Jie's birthday, it's all worth it.

Cheers.

Have We Met Already?

We're all lonely for something we don't know we're lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we've never even met?

David Foster Wallace

Booming thunder, streaks of lightning and chilly air are all signs of trouble for a motorcyclist. But yet I found myself wishing that it would rain, for sometimes it actually feels good to wallow in self pity. But it didn't happened. As if the heavens is trying to comfort me.

I have not had this feeling for a long long time. And yet it had to hit me despite being in the company of plenty people. Fun, exciting people. Which goes to show that the world works in unexplainable ways.

I thought I handled it pretty well. At least until now, that is. But singlehood does get a little lonesome sometimes, doesn't it? Knowing that somebody you love is always there for you is something I wish I can have.

But there's nothing that can't be solved with a glass or two of Baileys. For sleep can be quite a nice antidote sometimes.

E-mail or Ewww-mail? The Redemption of Althalus

I figured I should continue what I started, albeit leaving out lost4eva_wanderer@hotmail.com and i_am_sorry_for_all_that_i_have_done@hotmail.com because the stories behind them aren't exactly what I would like to remember. Yeah I know I know, the email addresses sure sound cheesy.


It has always been a hassle whenever there are forms that required me to fill up my email address. Especially one as long as i_am_sorry_for_all_that_i_have_done@hotmai.com. Heck, even typing it out is tough. I always thought underscore was cool, but I guess I shouldn't have abused it that way. So I grew smart one day and decided that I needed to shorten my email.

the_redemption_of_althalus@hotmail.com

Skeptics may say it's not much shorter but if you view it in terms of the underscores used, I've reduced it by more than 50%. Yeah whatever but hey it's way much cooler now. Which explains why I'm still using it.

You know your email address is cool stuff when you have plenty of people asking you how the hell you came up with this address or what does the redemption of althalus means. And it surprises me that throughout my 5 years and counting of using this email address, only 1 person knew how I came across "the redemption of althalus."

Yeah, my nerdy senior from Student Council.

As brilliant as I can be sometimes, I didn't create the redemption of althalus. David and Leigh Eddings did.

Err yeah, there you go. It's just the title of the first storybook I've bought.

One that was too cheem for me to comprehend at the age of 12 perhaps? Judging from how yellow the pages of the book have become. 12 sounds about right.

With that, I can finally start blogging about my views on email addresses that are special or just plain funny. crybaby? kitty lover?


I can't wait to begin.

The Thing About Poems

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder

What is beauty?
Does it mean pretty?
Do not bother to think,
for beauty is not everything.

Beauty lies in the eye of beholder,
just like a folder.
The most important documents are inside,
the unimportant cover, on the outside.

Why does the ugliest creature you feel,
end up married happily ever after?
Why does the beautiful angel,
end up single and lonely forever?

Define beauty innerly,
as beauty is just skin-deep,
shallow people just judge them this way,
aren't them just as good as creeps?

Do not worry, my friends,
no matter how imperfect you think you are,
It is nothing more than a self prank,
because someone out there will accept you,
for who you are, not what you are.

Me, when I was 14 years old

--

Another poem that I've totally forgotten about. And I suppose this one doesn't need any explanations huh?

Can't believe this was actually read to the whole school for some poem writing competition. Although I didn't get to hear them read it out as I was busy with some student councillor work.

I looked something like this. Neat and proper.

Okay, what's so surprising about me being a student councillor? I was a great kid back in secondary school days. Class chairman? Check. Neatly gelled hair? Check. Tight pants? Check. High socks? Check. Enthusiastic about the welfare of the student body? Check. Stupid stuck-up moron? Check too.


At least until the end of Secondary Two, that is. It's true when they say "Life only begins once you start wearing the long pants."

Right. I made that up. But I kinda became "notorious" after I donned the long pants and became an "upper secondary" student. Enough about that, let's talk about poems.

I always liked poems, primarily cause it never ceases to amaze me how an avalanche of emotions can be felt despite being compressed into a few short paragraphs. And sometimes, it even rhymes.

I've written quite a few poems; mostly love poems because you can be ridiculously mushy with them and get away with it. I wish I can show how sappy I can get but I just can't seem to find any of them nor remember how I wrote them. (Mental note: keep a soft copy of any future poems so that you can recycle them for future girlfriends)


Just kidding of course. Although it's actually quite cool to create a template and insert in whatever the girl name is accordingly. I'll be damned if I really take that route in the future.

And hey, this may sound a little emo, but what's the point if I can't find a girl to write a poem for? Right?

Sailor's Sweetheart

O if love were had for asking
In the markets of the town,
Hardly a lass would think to wear
A fine silken gown:
But love is had by grieving
By choosing and by leaving,
And there's no one to ask me
If heavy lies my heart.

O if love were had for a deep wish
In the deadness of the night,
There'd be a truce to longing
Between the dusk and the light:
But love is had for sighing,
For living and for dying,
And there's no one to ask me
If heavy lies my heart.

O if love were had for taking
Like honey from the hive,
The bees that made the tender stuff
Could hardly be kept alive:

But love is a wounded thing,
A tremor and a smart,
And there's no one to kiss me now
Over my heavy heart.

Duncan Campbell Scott

Just a Little Explaination:

If love can be asked and received easily in markets,
All young girls would surely wear a silk gown.
But love involves a lot of heart break, choice and separations...
Sailor's lover has left him and now there's no one to comfort him.

If we could obtain love easily by a wish we made at night,
Lovers need not hunger for love during long lonely nights...
But love involves a lot of sacrifice....

If we could obtain love as easily as we extract honey from beehives,
Those who give such love, such as bees, would die of heartaches...
But love lost inflicts wounds and pains the lover..
The sailor's lover has left him heartbroken

--

Been rather busy lately, but here's something I stumbled upon from my old blog.

Cherish those Moments

Some people like Wei Jie like them big and exciting whereas some like Daphne perhaps, like them small and intimate. The former prefers it to all happen simultaneously whereas the latter would prefer it to occur several times over a period of time.

Before you start insinuating that Wei Jie is gay and that Daphne has erm, an acquired taste, I'm talking about birthday celebrations over here.

Sharon's 20th birthday at Marina Barrage

I just had one today. Nope not for myself (I'm kinda dreading my 21st birthday) but for Wan Qian. Though I normally prefer to be involved in a birthday celebration that is held on the birthday boy/girl's actual birthday itself, we didn't today because I suppose we aren't important enough. Sigh.


Just kidding of course. One should never incur her wrath. Because it'll be like Final Destination. And we all know they all die in it. For you can't escape death.

I wonder if anybody will survive the latest instalment.

As compared to last year, the celebration this year is considerably smaller in scale and there's just me, Jimmy Well Hung, Evelyn Well Hung, Quah Bee Sze and of course the birthday girl, Chew-it-man Wan Qian.

Five people you meet in heaven.

It was pretty good nevertheless. I wish I have pictures to go along with this entry, but contrary to popular belief, I don't really like taking photos. I'm just not photogenic. I have to like probably take 20 times before I get an acceptable shot of myself.

It's either I'm asleep

Jun Wei's 20th birthday & Letty's farewell party

With an unexplainable expression

Cassandra's Farewell

WTF?

Seventeen Summer Challenge

Carrying unglam stuff

Before leaving for Hong Kong

And this one takes the cake. Machiam I saw a freak pretty lady.

Genting with Letty

Like I mentioned earlier, there are good ones. Though the chances of me getting a good shot is miniscule, I do get them.

Sharon/Wan Qian said this is my best photo or something along that line.

On the ferry to Macau

Thanks, appreciate your kind words. But I think I look better in this.

Traveling in HK's MTR

At least my eyes can be seen in this picture.

A picture paints a thousand words and it can't be any more true. Words can indeed only describe so much whereas pictures like the ones above capture moments that may be otherwise forgotten along with the passing of time.

Moments of Hilarity

Every man for himself for that last piece

Moments of Exhilaration

Aftermath of Solero Shot

and Moments of True Friendships

The Gang of Eight

The Fool's Club

It'll be extremely regrettable should these moments are not captured. And it doesn't really help that I do not have a digital camera either. But... tagging me in Facebook whenever possible would be great!

--

Coming soon, Wan Qian's forced expression while receiving her present!

A Moment Please

It's really hard to string words together when one is fatigued. My shoulder stings right now no thanks to the searing heat waves. And tomorrow's another long day for me.

So pardon me, and a moment please.

By the way, Happy 20th Birthday Daphne!

Vomit Your Sins Out

I'm gonna start off this post with a warning. Please do not ever attempt to consume the Iced Milk Tea over at E Hub's Hong Kong Cafe. It's toxic.

What you see may not be what it seems.

If I don't wake up from my sleep tomorrow, you'll know what killed me. Yes scoff all you want, I know it's hard to understand why I can survive a motorbike accident but yet get myself eliminated by a cup of Iced Milk Tea. But hey shit happens, and my guess is that they used some expired milk for my drink. Caused me to vomit for the first and second time in my life. (Twice!)

If you don't include the times I vomitted because of alcohol and supersized pills.

To think I can finally finish an upsized Extra Value Meal for once. Double fillet-o-fish somemore. I guess I probably managed to digest only 1/3 before the rest went to the toilet bowl. I'm sorry that the toilet cleaner has to clean up my mess but I swear I tried my best to get my vomit on target. It's just that it's not as easy as peeing, damn it.


I'll never understand why those anorexic people can force themselves to vomit what they've eaten. And on a regular basis, which is the crazy part. Why would they wanna taste what they've swallowed down again, except that this time round, it's in a liquified form? Like in my case, fillet-o-fish + seaweed fries dipped in curry sauce + probably some gastric acid.


As if the bittertaste of the vomit wasn't enough, now my chest hurts as well. Feels like something is blocked or something and it hurts whenever I take deep breaths. Oh man, I hope it goes away soon. But if I don't make it, please hand my $85 OGL pay over to my Dad. And yeah tell Leonard I've used up his pay on Vietnam brides. Appreciate it.

On hindsight, I think somebody is trying to punish me for feigning my ignorance at something I already know. Somebody up there in the heavens. I'm sorry that I've sinned, but I've got my just deserts already and please be fair and punish the rest too. I can help you name them.

Mr Chief Culprit, Leong Jun Wei
Mr Act-Cannot-Act-But-Actually-Can-Act, Chua Wei Jie
Chao Recruits, Kenneth Phang and Wong Jian Rong

Oh wait Mr Buddha, I've got their pictures too.


Hope it helps.

National Day

I'm supposed to be asleep right now and according to my schedule, I'm 2 hours behind time and probably more after I finish this entry. Yes, I'm trying to cultivate a healthy habit by sleeping before the clock strikes 2 am. As usual, I'll tell myself that I'll start tomorrow.. and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.. and you get my drift.

Today Yesterday, was National Day. This sounds un-patriotic but damn, I don't feel anything about it anymore. While lovey dovey couples are snuggling with each other over at Marina Barrage while waiting for the fireworks, and parents instructing their children to say the Pledge together with them at exactly 8.22pm, I'm doing my nation proud by ensuring there are taxis for everybody.


Yes, I've been working like a loser yesterday while everybody is high five-ing each other for remembering how to say the Pledge. Yeah, big deal. Would you forgo $56 bucks just to see how exaggerating some people's faces can get when they are turned on by some fighter jets?

Whoa! Look at that plane!

Well, at least that's how I felt initally. It's only till I saw the highlights of this year's NDP on teevee that I realised what I've been missing. It surprises me really, when you see everybody taking the Pledge together, looking stern and actually understanding what they are pledging about, it gives me goosebumps. Makes me feel like saying it out loud too and gyrate my booty to the tune of the National Anthem.


So, together you and me, let's hope Letty returns to Singapore permanently before Singapore turns like say 50 years old?

Majulah Singapura!

E-mail or Ewww-mail? You don't mess with the... CraftCadet

Nothing much happened today. I slept at roughly 10am, dreamt that I flew off a building and upon impact, woke up at around 1.45pm. The trauma kept me awake till it was 3.30pm when I managed to hurl myself off another building again, except that I fell all the way till it was 8.30pm this time. And this is what improper sleep does to you. It messes up your head.

But it is going to end soon! Today is the day when I finally kiss midnight shifts goodbye. No more staying up, no more finding things to do, no more eating the same crap over and over again, but hopefully I'll find some way to continue blogging at home. I certainly like what I've managed so far.

So does the baby.

Like I mentioned yesterday, you don't mess with someone who loves her secondary school very much (cheryl_supernass@hotmail.com) if you wish to stay clear of trouble. Being someone who finds sadistic joy being in trouble, I did and thus have to change my beloved email address. And lo and behold, my 2nd email address!

xxcraftcadetxx@hotmail.com

Don't ask me why there's this xx[insert word]xx thingy. I've got no freaking idea why I put it there. Apparently I thought it was cool and I suppose it signalled the start of my obsession with long email addresses. Nevertheless, this email address has a history too, albeit not as scandalous as "junrenfigo@hotmail.com".


I was pretty crazy about two things during my secondary 1 & 2 days. One of them is NCC, which I suppose is the highlight of my secondary school life. I always felt that the lanyard (red and white) looks pretty cool on the No. 4 uniform and it didn't help that only staff sergeants can wear them for it made me wanted to attain it more.

Well it's supposed to look cooler.

Anyway with that, I was so enthusiastic about NCC that the word "cadet" refused to leave my thoughts when I brainstormed for a new email address.

Something had to go with cadet and I had trouble thinking of one. It couldn't be xxjunrencadetxx because it's WTF. And you know when puberty starts, suddenly all the girls are beautiful and you start viewing them in a totally different light. It was also this period when my Pikachu went to hell along with Blastoise, Charizard, Mewtwo, Articuno and Butterfree. But before I discarded all my Pokeballs in the bin, I went to visit Nurse Joy a couple of times. Somehow, she became pretty out of the sudden.


Puppy love was the norm then. But xxlovecadetxx, xxromanticadetxx and xxcupidangelcadetxx doesn't sound right either does it? I can't have an email address that has pervert written all over it. The XXX thing doesnt help too.

Other than NCC, the other thing I was crazy about was Renewal, a now defunct MMORPG. Till now, I've never managed to find another game that could rival the experiences and the friendships I made in the game. There were mainly three job classes for this game; Warrior, Magician and Craftsman. No prizes for guessing which job class I chose. Heh, I was the top craftsman in Singapore okay. Top in making armoury, weapons, mining, farming and making bread.

No, I'm not kidding. Serious.

As you can see, "craft" is a five letter word that starts with C and so does "cadet" (Duh.) And this can only mean one thing. You have to put them together! And viola, the lovechild spawned is none other than xxcraftcadetxx@hotmail.com (this paragraph is top notched lame, i know)

As cool as it sounded, it didn't sound very nice short-formed. (I used "craftcadet" as my nickname in Renewal) You see, me and my Renewal guild mates used to meet up quite frequently last time for outings and stuff like that. And although it's quite stupid, we don't call each other by our real names. In fact, we call each other by our In-Game-Names. So some of the more memorable ones are FrostBlade, Mystique, l33tmynah and 5erene. There was this guy named FLPJ too. I know it sounds stupid but hey it stands for Fun, Laughter, Peace and Joy.


With mine being CraftCadet with a rather lengthy 3 syllabes to it, the shortform is naturally just CC. But the way these guild members of mine like to pronounce it to di siao me, it could only be sissy, sissy and sissy.


And I hated that.

E-mail or Ewww-mail? How it all Began.

You know what is the toughest thing about blogging? Or rather trying to keep a blog going? It's finding things, interesting things, to talk about regularly. As you know, I've been working quite a lot lately and the most exciting thing that can happen in Transcab is when there are complaints and lost reports. And I just received a call from an old man complaining about something in Hokkien. He wanted to talk, I didn't want to listen, and thus he's currently still talking "with me" while I'm typing this. ;)

So there isn't any exciting events lately nor do I feel emo right now, so I guess the only option is to pen down my thoughts which, by the way, are getting increasingly random. And the idea of today's topic came to me when I was inputting my as-long-as-my-brother-down-there email address into hotmail.com. Yes, it's about email addresses.


Throughout my relatively boring 20 years of being on this planet, minus a few years learning how to walk, run and fly, a few more years watching Power Doo and Scooby Rangers, I've had quite a few email addresses. 5 and a half to be exact. (I'll explain what "and a half" means)

So I guess I was around 10 or so, when I got my first email address.

junrenfigo@hotmail.com

Ta-da! Not bad for the first one I would say. I have seen a lot more crappier ones in my life I swear. In fact, some people I know are using emails now that are worst than what I created when I was 10. (I'll leave that for the later posts)

This email address has history man. I spent decades trying to think of something that is cool, awesome, has-my-name-in-it-so-that-people-know-it's-me and one that shows my love for soccer. So I took my name, and the last name of a famous footballer, Luis Figo and combined them into one. And the response to my virgin email address was phenomenal.


"Wow, that is pretty cool man JR!" was the reaction I got from the guys, and "I'm so gonna add you in MSN!" was from the girls which sad to say, I didn't pay attention much to because all I wanted then was to train my Pikachu to level 99.


And so my "cool" email address followed me to secondary school.

You know, I wasn't that much of a popular guy among the girls in secondary school because I like to make fun of them. And one fine day I made fun of the wrong one and thus had to change my email address.

There was this girl in my class and her name is Cheryl. Very nice person when not angered and demonic when angered. And her email address is cheryl_supernass@hotmail.com.

You see, this email address belongs to the select group of email addresses that needs to be read out in alphabets instead of the words itself. Because what I interpreted then, at the age of 13-14, was cheryl_SUPERBIGASS@hotmail.com. Not to help is the fact she really did have one big ass then.

Damn I hope she doesn't come across this blog of mine

And so, I went around telling my pals about what I discovered and I made fun of her with that whenever I see her. It didn't take her long to come up with the perfect response.

junrenFEIGOU@hotmail.com... junren废狗@hotmail.com

From a dashing Luis Figo,


To a god damn 废狗,


From total coolness to an utter pile of crap. In case you don't know what fei gou means, it means useless dog in chinese. (I think) So with that, I had chants of "junrenFEIGOU, junrenFEIGOU, junrenFEIGOU" greeting me whenever I see her and her girl gang.

It had to be stopped. And thus, the email address needed to be changed.

--

In case you're wondering what the hell is nass, it's Ngee Ann Secondary School. Duh.

And oh my god, she is still using the same email address.