a thoughtful soliloquy to the Cloud Atlas

On the way back from a particularly tiresome tennis session, I scrolled through the best and most informative news on the internet - Yahoo! News, and my thumb, inexplicably landed on an article.

At first glance, it seemed to be nothing but a mindless review that news sites often put up to stir a few extra views - it was labelled "25 best movies of 2012". I obliged and earned the writer a few more cents by tapping the link.

I scrolled through the listings. And i was astonished  The Dark Knight Rises was no where on the list. But remember a title on it. A title that I had heard reviews of months earlier - mostly negative and uninteresting.

The movie was called "Cloud Atlas".

And for some reason, that stayed with me.

Even now, as I have finished my lunch, slumped into my chair for a brief relaxation internet session, that title has stayed with me. I inexplicably listened to the soundtrack, the trailer and even now, I'm typing this and narrating this in my head with Tom Hanks' voice.

I am finding myself... drawn... to this movie, the novel and it's concept - the idea of an evolution of a soul. That perhaps the random decisions made in my life have come from a previous life and previous *me*, and that all those versions, all those past *me*s - the entirety of their existence, their experiences, their heartbreaks, triumphs, tears and joys, may have contributed to my taking a left instead of a right at a particular bend in the road.

The idea, also, of inevitability is particularly heartwarming - that no matter how or what happens, no matter the barriers, the distances and the obstacles - if we are meant to be, then it will be. It may take us a few mistakes, a few *lifetimes* worth of mistakes, but in the end, we will be. Either in this life or the next, or the next, and the next.

"Yesterday, I believe I would never have done what I did today. I feel like something important has happened to me."

I'll watch this movie - and we shall see if it deserves that spot on that list.

a life in music... (extracts)

EXTRACT 1:

One of the earliest memories I've had of music was lazy-ing into the seat of an old Superman bus, as it grinds down the road home after the morning session was over. Bus is nearly empty and I'm leaning back on my bag and I look backwards out the window as trees zoom past.

The song on the radio at that time was "Love is all around" sung by Wet Wet Wet...

That was back in 1994. I was 9 and mid-way through Primary 3...

EXTRACT 2:

A few years later, I remember looking out the window as the car speeds down the North South highway, on the way back from a long holiday. School is opening SOON. And not the same school that I was going to for the last 6 years.

Soon, I'd be stepping into St Joseph's Institution. And while there were familiar faces, the rest would be brand new. And that was scary.

In fact the whole year had been scary. It'd been the year of the bloody spice girls and their extremely creepy "2 become 1" video... UGH...

Anyway, I remember looking out the window, totally quiet on the outside, but I was SCARED SHITLESS on the inside by the future and the prospect that lay before me.

The song on the radio seemed to answer for me. It was Semi-charmed Life by 3rd Eye Blind...

And that was 1997. Primary 6 and moving to Sec 1 next year... I was 12.

EXTRACT 3:

I remember the principal saying that we were "pioneers" or something along that line. Thinking back, speeches like that seemed to paint us as some kind of super soldier army that was about to be unleashed onto society.

And considering SJI at that time - it certainly felt like it. Yeap, we were the invincible bunch.

Beating the hell outta each other and having so much fun that we'd all collapse into our seats as the bus took the longest time to get home...

Music had been particularly... stimulating that year... I seem to remember a certain Faith Hill video that triggered certain hormonal reactions... heh... It pretty much established the favorites in my album - Matchbox 20's "Bent", BSB's "Shape of my Heart", and a few others...

But if there was a song that pretty much summed it up. It'd be the one song that all the SJI boys would be whispering to themselves as we lay slumped in our seats, pretending that we werent singing along...

Jon Bon Jovi. The message? Simple. It's my life.

It was the year 2000. Sec 3 and we were at the invincible 15 years old.

EXTRACT 4:

Not too long after that, it was a total 360. From being invincible to being incompetent. Probably the transition from an all-boys school to a WTF GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS school was too much to handle. Lol... Or maybe it was because 2000 rolled along and the world was still around. And that was such a bummer... September 11was still fresh one year on, and had a way of smothering us with protection, and the world seemed SO much bigger, and we were constantly being ignored, for favor of the greater good, national security and wat not...

Being the home tutorial counsellor DIDN'T help. Responsibility really grounds you, makes you realize the vulnerability of the world. Not to mention the late days studying and the long LONG bus ride from CJC to Eunos...

It was the year of Eminem, some stupid girl who kept singing about boys (Avril Lavigne), and not to forget Enrrrrrrrrrrrrrrique's "Hero" - the dream soundtrack of every guy's death at that time... A few standouts were "All you Wanted" and  "Goodbye to You" by Michelle Branch, and Vanessa Carlton's "A Thousand Miles". I always had a hard time telling them apart. LoL...

And while taking the long ride home, I distinctly remembering nodding off on more than one occasion to "Here I Am", sung by the ever intriguing Bryan Adams.

And there I was - year 2002, at the jaded age of 17.

EXTRACT 5:

The uni years were kinder. Loads of responsibility still, but at least, this time you could CHOOSE how you wanted to screw things up.

And at the same time, the stuffy lecture theatres had a way of developing the rebel in me. Many many many times i wanted to scream like a mad creature.

It was the year of R&B... that STUPID "My Humps" song is still one of my all time HATED songs. It was also the year i went ALTERNATIVE... lots of songs-that-you-never-heard-before-and-if-you-didn't-then-that-means-it's-a-good-song.

Bands like Stars and their "Your Ex-Lover is Dead" and "Calendar Girl", Default with their "The Memory will Never Die", and Saliva with their "Always".

Notice a self-destructive pattern in the above examples?? Damn i just noticed it myself...

But the song that I remember from that year was a song that exemplified the wanting to scream, to break out, away, and just do whatever I wanted. "Best of You" by the Foo Fighters.

That was the best of 2005. I had just turned 20.

Home Pasta

Everytime I cook pasta, I'm reminded of home.

Not that we always had pasta at home, not that my receipe is special in some way, but because of the way I was taught to cook it. The method is strictly tied to the workings of home... and I'm forced to re-imagine a lazy Sunday back in JB.

You always put the fire right at the LOWEST setting from the start - because mom has SHARP ears. She can pick up the sound of a sizzling saucepan even when she's out in the garden. And she'd immediately call out to me.

"Turn down the fire or it'll splatter!!"

Yes, mom. So the fire is always at the lowest. Let the diced onions slowly saute in the pan with only a little oil, until they get soft. How'd you know they were good? When you tap a wooden spatula on the pile of cooking onions, and it wouldnt feel hard to the tap. That's what mom said.

Then you add the meat, stirring as you do so, to ensure that there's as LITTLE sizzling as possible. Again, mom'd be able to hear you if you just tossed the meat onto the pan. Add salt and pepper.

Stir until the meat is 90% cooked (only a few chunks of red remain). Then add the sauce. It can be the premade kind from Prego, or if you desire, add 2 cans of puree, then top up using 1 empty can of puree and filling it half way with water. The sizzling should die away.

Now you can raise the temperature, because it's all cold.

While some people love the sourness of the tomato sauce, mom and dad don't really fancy the zestiness of the sauce. So you add a little something sweet. But mom hates sugar. At the time I learned, we were on a brown sugar spree, and adding brown sugar to spaghetti sauce just sounded weird, so I went with the next best thing - a teaspoon of honey.

Slowly stir the honey into the mixture and it'll help to ease the sourness.

By this time, you might be concerned that the sauce is a little too watery (especially if you used the puree method). This is the best time to add cheese. But Oliver and Mom dont really fancy the strong smell of parmesan - while I and jasper have no qualms with coating our pasta with a THICK blanket of grated parmesan cheese.

A simple work around - i take a slice of mozzarella, or whatever kraft singles are in the fridge, tear up the slice into tiny pieces and sprinkle into the sauce. Stir the tiny pieces until they melt and it'll thicken up the sauce uniformly. Use lighter cheeses to reduce the strong smell if you dont like it. Turn the fire off.

Before you finish up, sprinkle some thyme over the top of the sauce and cover to let it stand. Sauce is done.

Hopefully, you've put the stock pot on to boil before you started the sauce. Or else everyone's gonna smell the sauce (because of the thyme) and come asking about lunch. It should be half full of water, with a generous sprinkling of salt, and a tiny bit of olive oil on top.

By this time, the water should be boiling.

Drop however much pasta into the water and stir, so that sticks slowly bend around the inside of the pot and are quickly submerged. If you wait for the pasta to soften and sink in on it's own - the tips may burn from the heat over the edge of the pot - and dad (the engineer) will immediately take note and complain.

Mom always said to cook the pasta until it looks white in the water and when you lift it up against the side of the pot, it sticks and doesnt slide down. Another way, if you're not good with heat is to use long wooden chopsticks and just stir the mixture with them. If you can FEEL the pasta hitting against your chopsticks, then they're not done.

If you can retrieve a single strand of spaghetti from the boiling pot, give it a wiggle and pull at it from both ends until it breaks. If it breaks without a sound - then it's good. Any tiny *peck* sound that you hear is a clear indication that the inside is still too firm.

Once the pasta is JUST nice, but still FIRM, you can turn the fire off and serve.

Most pasta fans will dictate the good ol' dunk-the-lot-in-cold-water thing, but I dont. See, it takes my family some time to assemble. And this is the image that I always keep in my head when making my pasta. I just leave the pot on the stove and imagine.

I imagine dad taking his time to put this tools away downstairs.

I imagine oliver slowly crawling out of bed.

I imagine jasper trying to finish the last fifa game and pausing.

I imagine mom watching the last scene of AFC before coming over.

I'd just leave the pasta on the plate on the dining table. By the time the family assembles, the pasta has pretty much cooked itself to the perfect degree of softness. And this is the timing that I always keep in my head.

Once they've all sat down in my imagination at the dining table, then only do I remove the pasta from the pot and serve. And it's always been perfect.

I don't know how make pasta any other way. And I dont want to.

conspiracy

I am suddenly convinced that there is conspiracy against the previous students of sixeff. Problems with work suddenly seem to plague us at the same time (as indicated by facebook postings), ill luck, bad situations and even worse, bad health.

They all seemed to have called on us at the same bloody time.

It's not been the best August for me. Workload has tripled since I shifted back to the office, the days have started earlier and ended MUCH later. And the words - well, they've gotten harsher, sharper. The deadlines are neverending, and never satisfied.

The air has gotten a lot heavier. The heart has quickened it's pace. And the freedom has all but vanished.

But despite, all this, I am convinced that I am well off.

I cannot say why, but I know through comparison.

I know there are a few of you who have changed jobs, I know some who have stayed. I know some who are suffering, and I know some who have paid.

The shoes have gotten heavier - especially this Monday. Today, they felt like lead bricks. But as I think back to last thursday, I am even more determined to carry them. I have to. I need to.

I am going to make it through this shit.

an egg-ception

Today, after I paid for my groceries and left, I accidentally dropped a packet of eggs.

This is just outside Carrefour. Please don't imagine the worse. It didnt spill out of my bag, and plunge to the floor over a metre in height and splatter all over. No. This was just a simple tumble - it rolled over about 5cm and that was it. Nevertheless, i checked, and while my mom assumed only 1 egg to be broken, I knew what I saw. 3 eggs had been cracked and this is just mere MINUTES after paying for them.

And it just occurs to me - This is the first time I've ever broken an egg accidentally immediately after buying them.

I mean, seriously. And while I knew this was just eggs, for some reason it struck a chord.

I remember going to the market with my mom when I was 7-8 years old. And my mom would hand me a huge square carton of eggs and say "Don't break them, okay?" Which in child's language, translates to "If you break these, I will break YOU."

And I remember walking at a snails pace with the carton of eggs right in front of me, not taking my eyes off of them as mom would weave around the veggie stalls.

Even on the ride home, as I sat in the front, I'd throw a glance behind each time the car came to a stop a traffic light and I heard the carton move as the car lurched. It was nerve-wracking.

And when we got home, I'd set the eggs on the kitchen counter and disappear to a corner of the house furthest from the carton. I mean, in case anything happened, I wanted to make sure I was as far away from suspicion as possible.

Fast forward 20 years to today, and when I think about it, im STILL paranoid when I buy eggs. I stack them up right in the corner of the shopping cart, build a wall of soft items (bread, fruits) around it. And it's also the last thing I unload when paying.

If I buy eggs that day at the supermarket, I take a taxi home. I'd never risk a bus ride, especially during the rush hour, even if I have to pay the peak period surcharge. To me, it'd be worth it.

I have no idea why. I must be crazy.

Pls tell me I'm not alone.

a random spin

It used to be that I always enjoyed the ride home. I'd squeeze into a cold seat far int the back of bus and smuggle up with my cd player, turn the volume up and get lost in a tantalizing piano melody.

I wonder when I started to stop enjoying those long bus rides home.

Was it bcos I started to get impatient with my life? Maybe it was the device. Having a spinning cd in the player, with no more than 13 songs that u really loved, meant that u wanted to listen to all of them as you sped down the street.

It was almost romantic in a way.

But it didn't mean you had to be moving. Stuck in those jams on the causeway were probably one of the most calming things in my life, as long as there was still power in the CD player. Going back to Eunos, back in JC, I distinctly remember taking the longer route, so long as it involved one long bus ride, no alighting.

Maybe its bcos its like being your own music video, those sentimental ones where the artist is just sitting there, reminiscing abt a past love, a lost childhood, or promises made, kept or lost. The moving trees, the appearance of a landmark, or the brief glimpse of someone familiar - they all seemed to synchronize with the music.

Perhaps it was the people... when I used to go home, the bus would always be empty, being the last one to leave the classroom does that to you. Boarding the bus, there'd be only several faces, compared to the morning rush of monotony, and endless pushing, and the occasional psycho who yells at ppl to move in.

I miss those empty buses. I miss the days of CD player, where I didnt have to choose from 400 songs in an iPod - bcos a song that is chosen to be played has no fatality. 13 different songs, all TRUE favorites, spinning and selected at random - that probably had more meaning to it than anything of those days past.

half empty, half full

Now every Sunday, after work, I pack my bags and scoot on over to the company gym, hang around there until my legs start to buckle and then I head back home, to a sumptuous dinner (prepared by me, so of course it's sumptuous). Basically, I like to earn my calories.

Now tonight, it was a little different - maybe a little too much Red Bull.

And despite the aches and light-headed ringing in my skull, I donned my running shoes and took to the road - something I havent done for quite a while.

I make a left at the main street, stick tight to the pavement, and instead of heading towards the Thomson Medical, where I was born, I make cryptic left turn.

I say cryptic, because it takes me up a gentle slope, one that keeps winding upwards steeply, towards the place known as Tan Tock Seng Hospital. And I while fighting for breath and energy, and desperately trying to put one foot in front of the other, it suddenly hits me WHY this is cryptic in the first place - I was born in Thomson Medical, and it is likely *this* is where I will die - in a hospital.

I mean, this is where people die, seriously. Not that death isnt always serious, but it just seemed utterly surreal. And it seemed pathetic that just a few moments ago, I was fighting for breath, struggling to make it up this slope, and i thought to myself, "Man, this is KILLING me. I am DYING here."

It made me feel small. Really small. And insignificant.

But like all slopes, that road behind Tan Tock Seng comes to a peak and the slope moves away from me now, leading towards a junction in Moulmein.

And as I hit that downward slope, I pick up speed with the night breeze in my hair and the cold air in my shirt - and then I think perhaps I'm looking at it wrong.

This isn't where people go to die. This is where people go to live.

a study of music

This is gonna a boring post.

There are pieces of music, that when heard, inspire some kind of action, or stir emotion, in you. No doubts there. While empowering, the truth is that they tend to follow certain patterns. It's not plagiarism, nor a copy of styles, and of course, this is a generalization, but it has been studied.

The simplest and most common is the rising crescendo type of music. It is typically associated with epic battles, or some clash of the titans kind of struggle. The first and most common one that sticks in my head is the track called Escape by Craig Armstrong.

The notes go from low, and they rise, the pitch begins to grow, until the it is at an all time high, and you can feel the fever pitch coming - example HERE. The rising crescendo is the most common type of EPIC music. Another common track example the rising crescendo is the Adagio in D Minor by John Murphy, soundtrack to the movie Sunshine.

The opposite of the rising crescendo is the falling dimineundo, or decrescendo. The music follows a V shape, a moderately high tune falling to a low tone, and then rising slightly, and then depending on the mood, may keep rising, or start to fall again. The objective is to provoke the opposite of the crescendo, which is to reflect, think back, reminisce... Example of a decrescendo that keeps rising is the soundtrack to Kick Ass, the track titled Armenian Superhero, the opening of the movie. Example of a decrescendo that falls instead, is the track called Standing Ovation, from the movie Hancock.

While the first 2 themes follow distinct wave patterns, the Crescendo being A-shaped, and the Decrescendo is V-shaped, these 2 themes are typically used for EVENTS. But not all soundtracks follow singular events. Some follow LINEAR paths - in movie terms, it is usually a journey, a serious revelationary actions in a due course. Whatever. Basically, it's in a SINE wave, ups and downs rhythmically spaced out to show a journey, a progression, movement in general. Best example I can think of would be from The Village, the track called The Gravel Road, as Ivy hurries to find medicine for an injured Lucius.

While this track is mostly calm and thought-provoking, this sine wave of peaks and valleys can also be used in fast-paced themes, take Death and Transfiguration, from the Hancock soundtrack once again - start from the 1:40 part onwards.

Anyways, there it is, a quick study of movie music, and what its trying to make us do.

popcorn 2

Last week, I was seized by an immense desire to watch a movie. I ended up watching Forrest Gump, a true cinematic masterpiece that is both thought-provoking as it is abstract.

And this got me thinking - what movies did I watch LAST YEAR?? In fact, what GOOD movies did I watch in 2010, if any??

Thankfully, I have a bad habit of keeping movie ticket stubs.

So, again, what good memorable movies did I watch in 2010?? Well, here goes...


LEGION


I sat down on my couch one fine day and picked up a DVD that my dad had just bought. Turns out it was THIS movie.

Big mistake.

Religious zombies and angels. And Dennis Quaid. What the fuck??


THE SHINJUKU INCIDENT


Pretty remarkable movie. It was one of the first that I've watched that Jackie Chan didnt flatten an entire army of pple with his skills.

All I can remember is that it was SUPREMELY depressing, this movie. And I will never EVER eat roasted chestnuts again. Why? (Hint: They cut off a man's hand with a giant roasted chestnuts spatula. Geee-ross!)


SHUTTER ISLAND


Ah, trust good ol Leonardo to come and save the day. All this while running around an island filled with creepy crazy ppl.

The CREEPIEST scene of the year came from this movie - the scene when Leo is walking into the asylum, and there's this partially balding lady with the blackest eye I've ever seen who turns and looks at him, then silent raises her finger to her lips in a 'shuuush' motion. That totally freaked me out.


KICK-ASS


I totally boycotted this movie at first. Then the rumors began running around. Whispers were heard. Whispers echoing... that... it... was... awesome??

By the way, this movie had in my opinion, the BEST opening scene of all 2010. If it doesnt stir something in you, then you have not had a childhood.


THE A-TEAM


LoL... this movie was hardcore action, setup-for-action, more action... Nothing in it in terms of storyline. The story looks like it was picked up at the reject shop, but BOY, was it fun to watch.


INCEPTION


Once again, Leo set the standard. I watched it in the cinema. I watched it at home. I watched it on my com. I keep watching it til today. I even watch it in my dreams, within a dream.


THE KING'S SPEECH


Once I heard about Yogi Bear and Tron Legacy, I thought to myself, "It is the end of the goddamn world."

There was absolutely NOTHING intelligent to watch. It was either that retarded hat-wearing bear running around a jungle stealing honey, or actors wearing spandex with LEDs attached to them. WTF man?

It was, ironically, thanks to dad, when he came back with some DVDs and one of them, was this movie - The King's Speech. I'd been very much used to Geoffery Rush as Captain Hector Barbosa for quite some time, so it was refreshing to see him in a tidy royal outfit, giving speech lessons to the s-s-s-stuttering king of england.

A marvelous movie. A beautiful savior to the year.

I need more time

I'm writing this after coming off a long marathon of Craig Ferguson + Sid youtube vids that I have no doubt left me speaking, writing and even THINKING in his addictive accent. So before you proceed onto further paragraphs, let me just say that this is best read in Ferguson voice, i think. Oh shut it, im making it as I go along.

I need more time. Yes, I mean, it's true, alright? I walk into the office 30min before I'm PAID to be there, I make a list of 300 things that need to be done and I slave away, task after task, feeling like a master sweat shop boy for Nike, and then i think I tick off ONE item on the list. DONE! 

And then the bell rings at 6pm and I have to go home, and tomorrow there's bound to be another 300 or more odd things that need to be done.

I mean, what the heck, rite?

I realize that.. 24 hrs just isnt enough anymore. Someone should rewrite the clocks or something, give us 40hr days or something. I mean, I only did ONE thing at work today, and then the day's over. I need a longer day - not that i'd spend more of it in the office anyway... but I do.

The full realization of it came today, while, I was sitting in a cab, taking a cab from Marina Bay Sands over to the warehouse at Penjuru (it's where I keep all the dead bodies). ANYWAY, Im on my way to Penjuru, when at a zebra crossing, the cab lurches to a stop and a school girl crosses.

She doesnt cross like she's walking or something. No, I mean, iPod earphones plugged in, tweetering on her smartphone, talking to her friend, and she was also doing her homework with her other 20 arms or so. The point is... she was walking DEAD BLOODY SLOW.

And I was seriously considering, leaning over to the driver's seat, putting the car in gear and turning her into roadkill, i mean literally turning her into mince-meat.

And then i stopped. I stopped and I realized that *I* was like that when I was a kid, except I had no iphones, or ipods, heck even my damn EYES didnt really work right.

I thought I had all the time in the world back then, and I now, now I don't.

And then it hits me, after seeing this poor girl slowly, slowly, AGONIZINGLY slowly crosses that piece of pavement - this is APPLE's FAULT.

Sudoku by Esther

I can't remember how far back this was, neither what the occasion was. I don't remember what day it was, what the weather was like, and I don't even remember why I'm writing this.

What I do remember is that I was sitting in Esther's room in Price George Park, with a sudoku book in front of me.

She was distracting me with one of the puzzles while she was changing. I don't remember where we were supposed to go, only that we weren't in a hurry.

When she finally leaned over my shoulder and peeked at my progress, she gave a little giggle.

She points to the row of numbers next to each blank box on the puzzle, and asks, "What's all this?"

I reply confidently with mild annoyance, "These are the possible numbers that could be in each box. I'm gg to narrow down each box down to a few possibilities, and use probability for each box to see which number has the highest probability of being in the box."

She gives me blank stare. And this is uni student who specializes in mathematics.

"You crazy la," she snaps at me, "That will take forever."

"But every time I try to solve the puzzle," I protest, "I hit a point where I have to guess a number."

She shakes her head and wags her finger at me like a every tuition teacher I've ever known.

"Then you are doing it wrong," she laments in chinese, as she takes the pencil from my hand.

"There is no guessing in sudoku. Everything is certain. It is all there, you just don't see it."

"See what?" I snap.

"This." she proclaims, as she marks a '7' in one of the boxes.

"And because that's a '7', that means this is '5'. And this row is done, which leads to a '4'... and then..."

A few minutes later, she has completed my puzzle. And without making a single guess.

"Impossible," I mutter.

She flashes me a victorious grin and hands me back the pencil.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," I pull her back, "Do another one, and walk me through it this time."

"Hmm ok, let's start with an EASY one," and she flips to the front of the book. I see bear cartoons and flowers printed - and I feel like a moron.

"Ok, I know that this is a '4'."

"Correct," she says.

"And that means.... this is a '3'."

"Yes."

"And and that over there is definitely a '1', because that's the last one in the box right?"

"Go on."

"And then... and then..."

Yeap, I was STUCK already. She senses it, once again, like a model school teacher. She gently lifts the pencil out of my fingers. From the side, I can see her eyes narrowing through her glasses. She lifts the end of the pencil to her mouth and taps it on her lips, which she always does when she is concentrating.

I can't resist, and I lift my head a little and give her a kiss on the cheek.

As expected she's surprised. But still half-concentrating on the puzzle, she hurriedly scribbles down a '4' in the top right hand corner box and raps me on the head with the pencil.

"LEARN hor," she states flatly with mild embarrassment showing on her face.

"I am, I am..."

She scribbles down a '2', then a '1', and the another '2'. Pause. Then a '5', then a '7', then an '8' and a '4'...

And then she stops.

"What? What's wrong?"

She doesnt say anything, until I examine the puzzle. And there is no denying it, she made a mistake and is now lost. She drops the pencil with fluster and looks for an eraser.

"Where'd we go wrong?"

"Wait wait, I'll check."

We erase number after number, backtracking the wrong steps, until finally, we arrive at the culprit - it's the '4' at the top right hand corner.

She drops her head and sighs in defeat, her hair falling onto my shoulder. I choke back a giggle, and she raps me on the head with the pencil again.

"You wanna try again?"

"No," she replies, irritated, "Too distracted already."

"Then let's go then."

She picks up her keys and heads for the door with me right behind her.

I flash a glance back at the open sudoku book on her desk, with the pencil still rolling slowly over the top page.

* * * * *

Fast forward to today.

As I finish the last number on my latest sudoku puzzle, the vehicle comes to a screeching stop. As usual, the driver almost missed my stop.

I close the puzzle on my phone and slide it smoothly into my pocket, and as I do so, I'm reminded again...

"Everything is certain. It is all there, you just don't see it."

Yeah right, and I'm still looking.

this week's receipe...

For those who are interested.

This is THIS week's workout plan.

MONDAY:

Cable Crossovers 10kg per side - 8 sets of 8

Bench Press to Neck 25kg - 8 sets of 8

Incline Dumbbell Press 12kg per side - 8 sets of 8

Wide V-grip Dips - 8 sets of 8

Sternum Chinup - 8 sets of 8(or failure)

Heavy T-Bar Row 25kg - 8 sets of 8

Low Cable Row 20kg - 8 sets of 8

Med. Grip Lat Pull to Chest 25kg - 8 sets of 8

Roman Chair Crunches - 100 reps total

High Rope Crunch 35kg - 8sets of 8

Weighted Back Ext. 5kg - 8 sets of 8

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TUESDAY:

10min 6degree incline threadmill

Drag Curl 15kg - 8 sets of 8

Preacher Curl 8kg - 8 sets of 8

45degree Incline Dumbbell Curl - 8 sets of 8

4 sets of HIIT sprinting/cycling

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WEDNESDAY:

Dumbbell Lateral Raise 8 kg - 8 sets of 8

Wide Grip Upright Row 20kg - 8 sets of 8

Front to back barbell press 15kg - 8sets of 8

Dumbbell Rear Delt Lateral 7kg - 8 sets of 8

Kneeling Rope Extension 15kg - 8 sets of 8

Skullcrusher Barbell Extension 10kg - 8 sets of 8

Dumbbell Tricep Kickback 6kg - 8 sets of 8

Double Crunch on bench - 8 sets of 8

Weight Crunch 6kg - 8 sets of 8

Lying Bent Knee Raise - 8 sets of 8

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THURSDAY:

Chest Plyo - Side to side hopping pushup - 8 sets of 8

Chest Plyo - Wide to narrow hopping pushup - 8 sets of 8

Chest Plyo - Low to high hoppinh pushup - 8 sets of 8

Back Plyo - Side to side Lat Pulldown - 8 sets of 8

Back Plyo - Alternating Bent over Row - 8 sets of 8

Back Plyo - Alternating Canoe Row - 8 sets of 8

16 sets of HIIT Sprinting/cycling

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRIDAY:

Fullbody circuit - do entire circuit 3 times, no rest between sets, 1 min rest after 1 circuit

Burpee Pushup into Pullup - 10x

Alternating Lunges - 20x

Vertical Jumps - 10x

Bench Dips - 10x

Side-to-side jump over bench - 10x

Diamond Pushups - 10x

Hanging Leg Raise - 10x

Alternating Knee Crunch - 10x

Crossover Running Plank - 10x

Hanging Side Leg Raise - 10x

5 min rest

Ab Circuit - do entire circuit 3 times, no rest between sets, 1 min rest between circuits

Arm-Leg Raise with exercise ball - 10x

Alternating Leg-Arm Raise - 20x

Running Plank - 10x

Weighted Sitting Torso Twist - 20x

Leg Kick to Palms - 20x

Lying down Alternating Toe Toucher - 20x

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SATURDAY & SUNDAY:

TENNIS.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Repeat next week.

a lesson of pain

Saturday's tennis wasnt my best. Slightly lethargic, shoulder aching and my mind still echoing from that morning's briefing in the office, I wasnt playing well in the least bit.

Yj and I called it day at around 6pm, i think. Even he was worried about my shoulder.

I decided a doctor's concern should be heeded after all, even as the numerous nerve endings sparking off in my rotator cuff were beginning to mess with my head. I slogged off to the shower and made my way home.

The bus ride was even more silent than usual. Typically, after tennis, it's alive with aunties, school kids and the rasping of someone's iPod turned up to a volume that would shatter the chambers of a nautilus.

I didnt bring my earphones that day, so I just leaned my head against the glass of the 151, letting it bounce lightly off it as it sped down Bukit Timah road, which to me, is probably the worse road to travel down when you're feeling down.

Too many memories. Bittersweet ones, some just plain silly, and some sullen serious.

As the bus makes the turn at Bukit Timah plaza, I catch sight of King Albert Park - the place my family used to go for breakfast back in the early primary school days.

The bus rumbles past Hua Chong, and I distinctly remember someone, one of my old friends, having a room there. Once. A long time back.

Then past coronation and serene centre, the place where I blew countless hours chasing counterterrorists or hunting terrorists on old dusty computer monitors. And one early morning, when, with empty tin cans in our bags, we camped at the old MacDonalds downstairs. And where I won my first Magic the Gathering card game match, against a shortie with a useless Green Deck.

The bus lurches into a long turn, and I remember the bus stop. The one just in between SJI and SCGS. And I watch as 960 bus nostalgically passes.

The glow from SJI's church can still be seen, or at least, maybe I think i can still see it. Maybe it's just a picture in my head, but I can still see it - clear as day. And I cant help but choke back a smirk as I remember the days of white uniforms, green ties and spontaneous cheering.

And as I board my next bus, and I make the trip into the present, I feel like I've left most of my life behind there. There, on that bus ride along Bukit Timah road.

And that my journey forward is empty and hollow.

That I've gone from being a feeling, fruitful and boisterous kid, without a care in the world, to me now, as if I've lost part of my ability to feel. And that my life is numb.

Im still thinking that as I leave the bus and head up the slope towards Ava Towers.

I must've made that same jump a million times.

Today, I missed it.

Taking the usual leap over the concrete slope embankment, I miss a step, my toe gets caught one on edge. My shins are torn open by the concrete edge, and I land on my knees and palms right there, with the full weight of my tennis bag coming to a dull thud on my shoulders.

At first there is no pain, but a fleeting second later, it comes rushing through. The nerve endings spark, and i forgot about my shoulder. I let out a huge cry of "FUCK!" and roll onto my backside, still sitting on the floor. My shins are on fire, and my hands are sore stumps with fingers. Every part of me hurts.

My mind is screaming questions. "Will I be able to walk back to my place? Will I be able to play tennis after this? Should I take an MC for work on Monday? Damn, I can't i have a meeting that I can't miss. Should I skip out on the fang shen tomorrow sunday? Nah, I've put that off once too long. Should I see a doctor?"

And I feel alive again. In the most amusing of ways. In the most amusing of ways, that fall, that scuffle, scrape and bruising, along with that immense jolt of pain, reminded me that I am NOT a doll, that I DO have a life, a FEELING life, and a life ahead.

Stumbling to my feet, as I've done all my life, I soldier on. Forward.

why is sunday so important. to me at least.

When I walked out of my room at around 1pm today, Sunday, and saw the rain pouring out of the sky like a monstrous gray veil, I let out a primal roar. Seriously, i did. I walked over to the window, half expecting the rain to retreat the moment it saw me, and punched the wall. Suddenly the shoulder i had dislocated on Friday didnt hurt so much anymore.

Firstly you must understand that most of the guys in our tennis group are working. Zs and I are in Operations/Logistics Management, Huahui is also in Operations, Lk is into some research project that involves frequent trips to a yachet club for testing (i think), and YJ is a doctor, one that gets calls 24/7. Oh wait, so do I. In fact, so do almost ALL OF US. So yes, most of us are working. Working all the time. (I apologize if I get ur jobs wrong, guys, it's an assumption on my part.)

For me, this ties into why I roared and punched the wall today.

I'm sure I can speak for all of us that when the week rolls around, we have 101 things to do, 50 of which are "urgent", 30 of which we plan to do that week, 20 of which we manage to assign or actually get started on, and 10 of which are actually in your own control, and 5 of which we actually get done, bcos we were busy chasing up the rest of the stuff that wasnt in our control.

Each and every day is punctuated by sending out torrents of emails, asking for status updates, reports and documents, of which almost all come in a day later than expected, or even worse, needed. And even then, as the song goes, sometimes even after all that damned waiting, when it finally gets to you, the REPORT IS WRONG. And the process starts over again.

It's a result of this heavily contracted working industry. Some company contracts another company to do something, for which they contract another company to do, for which they contract another company to do... blah blah blah... in the end, some meager salary worker does the work and money rolls from the bottom all the way to the top, marked up at ridiculous amounts.

Knowing how it works is disheartening, even if you've learned all about it in your uni lectures.

And the meetings, dear god, a devilish derby of numbers presentations and colored graphs, mixed in with large amounts of finger-pointing and work "push"-ing from one department to another. Seldom does a meeting accomplish anything, except what the next meeting will be about.

And here we are in the middle of it all. We who are hired to "manage" these things. Half of my Monday emails are "Kindly provide an update." emails. And almost all my Friday emails are "Kindly provide a followup report/status/update latest by Monday" emails. All sent to pple in Ireland, or different unreachable parts of Singapore.

I manage my operations, minimize warranty costs and provide site solutions and maintenance. Zs provides solutions to clients, implements them and maintenance. Huahui has to manage his operations team so as to maximize output and minimize maintenance costs and breakdowns. Lk has to implement his research and get results, GOOD PROFITABLE results from his experiments for his bosses. And YJ has to deal with his staff team, and the hoards of patients, usually unreasonable ones, fighting for priority from those who need attention more than them.

And I will bet that half of the time, the results/circumstances are beyond our control.

I rely on oversees vendors and contract staff. Zs similarly. Huahui relies on his staff team. Lk on his teammates. YJ on what kind and number of patients that come in.

Which brings me back to the roar and the wall.

It's not about tennis, or having my way.

It's just that sometimes at the end of a long week, where you've been chasing and been chased for numbers, where you've been forced to present costs, where you've been hounded by clients for new solutions, FREE solutions, where you've hardly had time to sit down without the company phone ringing it's freaking buttons off.

Sometimes at the end of the damned week, all you want is to look up and see a fucking clear blue sky.

"Your Report is WRONG" (a cover of "Your Love is a Song" by Switchfoot)

Note: Original song is here.

I hear my BB ring

Another day begins

The mail is 3 days late

You made the bosses wait, bosses wait...

I've been keeping my Inbox open

I've been keeping my Inbox open

Oh you always CC to me

F.Y.I. to me, F.Y.N.A. me

Oh you always CC to me

F.Y.I. to me, F.Y.N.A. me

Plus your report is WRONG...

Your font is bloody small

I can't read it at all

You left the data out

I feel like blacking out, blacking out

And I've been leaving my Inbox open

I've been leaving my Inbox open

Oh you always CC to me

F.Y.I. to me, F.Y.N.A. me

Why you always CC to me

F.Y.I. to me, F.Y.N.A. me??

Oh your report is WRONG

Your data is WRONG

Oh your header is WRONG

Your footer is WRONG

With my eyes wide open,

I got to bear this burden

You've made all my hopes broken

Yeah, Yeah

Oh you always CC to me

F.Y.I. to me, F.Y.N.A. me

Why you always CC to me

F.Y.I. to me, F.Y.N.A. me??

i am angry

I am angry. Come to think of it, I've always been angry.

The earliest memory of me being angry was back in the old house in Pelangi, where I would play badminton with my neighbour, Jeffery. Now Jeffery was about 2 years older than me, and when you're that young, 2 years is a lifetime of experience. But for some reason, it never got into my head that this guy was older than me, taller than me, fitter than me, had played this sport before, blah blah blah.

All i can remember was that he beat me every single time. We never even had to keep score. It was that certain. And i remember raging like mad. I swung at the plants, I swung at the insects, I stuck the badminton racquet into the dirt, I tore the feathers out of the shuttles, I raged. Oh yes I did.

But rage is never a good way to make friends, or keep them. It's also never a good thing if your parents can beat the stuffing out of you if you rage too much and break stuff. I was passive throughout primary school. Again, it never got into my head that I wouldn't run as fast as some, wouldn't be able to work the monkey bars like a... monkey, and that I would always get laughed at whenever I read out chinese in class.

And I raged, in silence. Or I used the rage to make warheads out of staples. Or I masked the rage by crying. It was the in-thing.

I decided I would suppress the rage in secondary school. This was a new leaf. A fresh slate. And I would try, to the best of my ability, to be a model of peace.

"Peace? I hate the word." -Tybalt

Of course it didnt last very long. And the secret wrestling matches that took place at Tanglin CC, which left many of us with bruises and bloody lips were an outlet.

By the time I hit JC, i was raging through music - and i have to thank Eminem and Ateet for that. If not for that stuff, I'd probably have killed someone, or numerous little animals in rage.

Then uni, and this time, I'd just plain given up. I let the rage consume me, and I BECAME rage. And the rage, tempered with the civility of "maturity" equaled SARCASM, which is a WONDROUS thing.

And i sarcasm-ed my way through uni, numerous essays and presentations. But even then, tempered sarcasm is still not as liberating as PURE white-hot rage.

Pure rage doesnt mean vengeance, it doesnt require a target, an objective, or a source. It is just an explosion of energy, mental and physical, that is chaotic, natural and spontaneous.

I found it in sport. I found it in the gym. And i thank those who introduced them to me.

Even now, 15min into a tennis warmup, I might send a backhand out of the court and just let out an animalistic scream. Oh, that shit is liberating. And addictive.

It influences the way I work. I work at a rapid pace in the morning. I storm into the office, greet and nod at my colleagues, throw my bag onto my desk and start to furiously dial numbers, hand out assignments and tabulate... stuff. By the time lunch rolls around I am spent, but I'm still ANGRY.

And I stomp into the board room, ready for the next meeting. I make it a habit to be 10min early. So that, even if im just a lowly engineer, when the directors walk in, *I* am the first one to greet them and welcome them. It is similar to how Nadal sprints to the end of the court after the coin toss.

It sends the signal, "You are entering into my domain." You take ownership of the situation.

I write down on a small piece of paper, all the points I want to make, so that I dont get blinded by rage and go on a rant. I am angry when the meeting starts, and I attack all issues aggressively, and I am angry when the meeting ends.

The directors say they like that, and I get angrier.

//End of rant.

magic tricks in the office

The project director has just pulled off the fastest disappearing act of all time. On thursday, he gives me a lift from MBS to our HQ, and while in the car, he mentions something abt "time difference".

Time difference? Your watch screwed up?

"No," he says, "Just that i'll be in USA tonight."

WAHT DA HELL???

And after he drops he off, he is OFF. I mean OFF, as in bloody disappeared, on leave until FREAKING MIDDLE OF APRIL????

And *I* have to take over his work while he's lounging in bacon, burgers and 9/11 conspiracies?? What gives?

I have no time to react. By the time I can curse, he's dropped me off, and disappeared over the horizon (ok, it was more like he got on an expressway and zoomed off).

The department directors gather around me.

There are always two of them, the hunt together, in a pair. They call them, The Ghost and the Darkness.

LOL, anyway, they started to eat me alive. Giving me assignment after assignment, deadline after deadline, until i am literally DEAD. Or wishing i was dead.

After the briefing, they turn to me, "So Chris, can you handle it?"

Sure thing, Mr Yap. Now excuse me, I've got a bottle of Dynamo to drink.

a cage

Aragorn: "You have some skill with a blade."

Eowyn: "Women of this country learned long ago - those without swords can still die upon them. I fear neither death nor pain."

Aragorn: "What do you fear, my lady?"

Eowyn: "A cage."

Eowyn: "To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them. And all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire."

What should we eat?

As i was walking out from the shower room on Sunday, I spied my younger bro, Oli, accompanying his block in a sepak takraw match. This, coupled with a talk with zs regarding sports nutrition has led me to wonder - what should certain sports players eat specifically for their sport??

For IHG, tennis, squash players and plain ol' athletes, this is what you should eat...

SOCCER

Soccer matches last for 90min. The training for a soccer match, however, lasts for HOURS. Henceforth, you should eat differently for the different sessions.

a) Vitamins

Your body needs Vitamins. As you run, kick, take headers and dive for your team, you will burn up precious vitamins that you need to sustain your energy output. All the energy drinks in the world will not work if you do not have the proper vitamins to put them to use. My suggestion - pop a multivitamin in the morning, and take another just after training or a match.

b) Creatine

Creatine occurs naturally in your body and is used in quick bursts of explosive energy. The sudden cuts and sprints of soccer make this a necessity. Needless to say, marathon runners dont need as much as sprinters. No need to buy those powders and bodybuilding formulas for this. The best source of natural creatine can be found in RED MEATS. The best source is SALMON. So those, who love salmon sashimi, indulge all you want, especially before a training session or match.

c) Protein

Protein will help combat muscle fatigue after training and will sustain muscle strength and output through rigorous running. The best sources of protein come from FISH. If it swims, eat it. Salmon, marlin, ikan bilis, makaral, crocodile, eat it. Okay, not really crocodile, but it would freak out the opposition if you say you eat crocodile. Eat more of it during your meal before your training session, you will need it. Just before a match, dont sweat it, a small packet of milk will be just enough without too much bloat.

d) Anti-oxidants

Long hours in the sun, and training produces a lot of free radicals in your body. These are harmful and contribute to lactic acid buildup in the legs. For soccer players, once you lose your legs, you're basically out of the game. This is a MUST for soccer players. Anti-oxidants can be found in most of the daily minerals you take with your multivitamins, eg. Zinc and magnesium. Some fresher sources of anti-oxidants are TOMATOES, ASPARAGUS and BROCCOLI, with broccoli being the best.

SQUASH

Squash is one of the fastest calorie burning sports in the world and is a nice neutral ground between hardhitting tennis and reaction-time dictated badminton.

a) Essential Fatty Acids (EFAs)

EFAs support healthy joints and tendons. The rapid sport of squash takes a VERY hard toll on shoulders, elbows, ankles and knees, ESPECIALLY knees. Good sources of EFAs can be found in fatty fish oils - which is most commonly seen in those white streaks you see on raw salmon. That's the stuff you want. Girls, pls note, it's also good for your skin.

b) Vitamins

Same as soccer.

c) Calcium / Protein / Carbohydrates

I put these together because there is one best source of both. MILK. Drink your bloody milk every damn morning. Milk is a SLOW burning source of protein and calcium. Squash matches can last an hour, and typically involve non-stop movement. You will burn up proteins VERY fast, faster than soccer. The milk will sustain the release of protein to your muscles over a long period of time. Carbs too, same as protein. The calcium is there to support bone structure, and complements the joint support provided by EFAs.

d) Water.

Nuff said. Especially for squash, water is ESSENTIAL. It is easy to get caught up in the adrenaline and forget to hydrate, leading to loss in concentration, milk headaches/dizziness and the loss of half a step of reaction time. Water is a must. Hydrate whenever you can.

TENNIS

Tennis combines the long distance running of soccer with the speed of squash and multiplys it by 3. Tennis matches last longer than soccer matches and squash matches, and as such, dictate a slightly heavier diet than both.

a) Vitamins

In addition to your morning pill, take another just before the match starts, with all the running and hitting, you will need the extra boost.

b) Creatine

Will the legs do the running, the arms do the hitting. While this is the same for squash, remember that squash takes place on a WOOD court that is easier on the legs and requires less energy to push off and recover. Tennis takes place on concrete, which is harder to move on. You will also expend creatine while you are hitting those stinging baseline shots. Also imagine going from a stationary position to suddenly moving your whole body just to hit a shot - that's the serve, and it's the personification of why you need your creatine. Eat a shitload of sashimi or beef before a big match.

c) Water

Of course, you are in the sun, and you are running on hot cement. You will lose water and fast. Hydrate during every change of set.

d) Protein / Carbs

Lots of carbs and protein are needed to sustain a high level of tennis. A tennis player requires more protein and carbs than a soccer player. Why? Because in addition to his legs and his core muscles, he also uses his arms. My suggestion? A simple fish pasta before a match. Pasta is loaded with long burning carbs and fish is almost pure protein. The fish also provides a good source of EFAs which will help your joint recover from the punishment of hard courts.

2010 - 2011

The year of 2010 started as do most desires – mundane.

The 2010 Australian Open started with a bang on Jan 18. And suddenly the tennis courts were flooded. The number of tennis posers were sky-high. Federer won it and Nadal went out from injury due to running so much. A sense of normalcy seemed to descend.

My PM turned to me in Jan 2010 and said, “This will be the final push to finish the project.”

By the time it was April, he realized how wrong he was. The clients who were breathing down our necks had started to spit and drool as well. The number of reworks and additional installations had us tearing our hair out at the cuticles.

MBS opened for the first time at the end of April, and the office folk took turns taking 2-day breaks. I spent mine on the tennis court.

February was uneventful – maybe almost deliberately uneventful. Being single in February means that you suddenly have to justify not being attached – and you do so by loading your timetable full, with tennis, trips to JB, groceries and you even begin to love the overtime, even when there’s no pay attached.

But for us, we brave few, we band of brothers – there is always FRIED NIGHT. It culminated on February 14^th, I think. Hashbrowns, breaded fish, potato wedges and tons of mayonnaise.

I honestly don’t remember what happened in March. It was all work work work work work tennis tennis. Nothing eventful happened. Federer lost in Indian Wells and Miami. Nadal was still apparently injured and all. Murray was all the hype.

May was the wrap-up. The shit-cleaning. All the crap from the soft-opening had left the office thoroughly drained. The breathing down our necks finally stopped. In fact, many of the people who had hounded us, had started packing their bags. It was deceiving, but in all sincerity, there was still much work to do. The hard part now was convincing ourselves to start working again. It sucked.

A brand new trio of new guys were called in – my new team – my maintenance technicians were brought in. Younger than me and with attitudes similar to sec sch kids, it was a role-reversal. Usually I was the one in the young man post, but now I was the old guy, giving them the advice and teaching them the steps. Jack, Kok Boon, Joseph and Jose, are today the guys who plough thru MBS behind the scenes, making sure EM locks don’t fall on pple’s heads.

June – ah, twas summer indeed. Runxuan and Eugene got married. It was a first real event that made me realize that, holy shit, I’m getting a tad old, aren’t I? Lots of stuff happened in June. Personal stuff too =)

And then the worst of it – I lost an uncle and aunt. Everything that I had been complaining abt up to that moment suddenly seemed like child’s play, trivial and altogether, unimportant. And it was in the most tragic of circumstances too.

I remember when dad touched down in Changi for the ceremony – we’d always made it a happy occasion, smiling and waving through the glass. From when I was old enough to wave to the present, I’ve done that. This time, I had no idea what to do.

Dad was calm and still very much the same during the long drive to Simpang Renggam. Mom was talking about it like she had read about it in the paper. For a brief moment, it seemed like something we would just shrug off. Mom and dad had always been pillars to the family – not just us, but to the rest of our relatives too. And they stayed that way all through the trip, until we arrived and even then, they were still calm. They approached the coffins silently and only there, did they clasp their hands over the mouths and faces and wept long and hard like I’d never seen them do.

And Nadal won Wimbledon again, with Federer not even making it to the semis. My life was at an all time low.

In July, the funeral was still fresh in our minds, but life had to go on. Amidst all the sorrow and depression, I’d decided that I’d had enough. There was no better time to buy a new PC. And I did so, almost with reckless abandon and an almost forced sense of joy. Zs and I scoured Sim Lim Square and we did lug back all the stuff we needed.

The objective was simple – find it, buy it and build it. And build it we did. SGD$2.6k++ of the gaming ownage. It would set in motion a gaming spree that hasn’t stopped til today. And it got Zs’s hands itching to the point that he HAD to upgrade his shit later this year.

And then, an “invasion”. Sarah moved in. To the room just beside me. It was refreshing, sharing a place with someone. Even if, you have to help her hang out the bedsheets.

And I have no idea what happened in August. Ask my new PC – it probably knows. I pillaged all of Tamriel, saved the Citadel from the reapers, did it again against the Collectors, assassinated my way from Acre to Venice, trudged through the darkest realms of F.E.A.R and waged war in graphic like never before in Crysis.

Other than that, I have no idea what else I did in August.

September was the trip to Phuket!! The trip was great. It was also a wakeup call. When you go to the beach, you make sure that you are at least in good shape. A month before, I made sure to cut no corners and went strict clean on my diet. As futile and vain as it sounds – it was an opportunity to get at least get used to the idea of a more controlled diet, with an objective in mind. When the trip was over – the routine continued, bcos I had gotten used to it. Win-win.

In October it was official. The boss called me into the office and said, “Yeap, you’re DEFINITELY the site manager for MBS.” I was like, “Fuck you, what the hell did you think I was doing???”

By November, I had attended 2 Life Liberation outings – gatherings where we’d get together and release fish/crabs/whatever, any potential seafood back into the sea. It was something like a good karma thing, which I feel is a good thing to start on, even if im a little late at doing so.

December was the slowest month ever. Pple started singing Christmas carols like it was already snowing. And then once again, tragedy – my eldest uncle passed away in bed. Not as bad as what happened in July, but still, yeah.

We buried him on Friday. Christmas was on Saturday. At least it came after and my family still had a reason to smile somewhat.

Federer won the World Tour Finals, beating Nadal almost decisively. Maybe there was a LITTLE hope out there still.

And now, even as im typing this, Sarah is preparing to move out. It seems to be an appropriate bookend to a certainly eventful year.

Here’s to 2010 – what a year.