the one about hair
I don't know about you, but I do have a phobia whenever I step into a barber shop. I simply detest cutting my hair, since it'll mean short hair again. Short hair looks sucky on me, and that's just an understatement.
I had my fair share of bad hair cuts and bad hair days and because of this, I would keep my hair long if I was allowed to. The type of hair which I hate most is those with the sides sticking out. Hm. I hope you get the idea. You see, my face is an oval shape, and with hair like that, I kinda look like a pineapple. I would have slit my wrists if not for the fact that pineapple complements cheesecake rather well.
Guys keeping long, layered and stylish hair in VJC are usually alert and vigilant. By the way, when I say long hair, it's not shoulder length hair or rocker-type hair. As in long relative to crew cut, those you can style. Ok, as I was saying guys keeping long, layered and stylish hair in VJC are usually alert and vigilant.
They are unintentionally trained to do so however, so as to keep a good lookout for certain people who feel they are not contributing to the school enough, and hence go around stopping people and blasting them for their hairstyle. It's pretty good training for those who are targeted though. And besides building up your vigilance, it also heightens your senses over time, or what Peter Parker might say -
Spider Sense.
I believe being paranoid about landing into trouble has actually helped me a lot. Now, I can detect an unwelcome presence before I even round a bend. It has aided me in real life too, like how I can sense Bus 31 is coming even before it is in view. Hopefully next year, these survival skills can be of use in the SAF.
Right now however, my hair is short and neat. I look presentable, nice and friendly. But 1 or 2 more weeks later, I'll probably be back to the vigorous training I have been subjected to for the past months.
the one about goatees and naughty boys
About 10 years ago in the east of Singapore, there was a plump little bespectacled boy living with his parents. Being an only child, he indulged in the toys his parents bought him or simply went outside the corridor to play with the kid next door. Cycling was usually the case, other times, it was just playing.
For a short period of time, when he was frolicking outside, there was this uncle who would walk along the corridor and down the stairs to get to his house 2 floors below, directly under the boy's flat. He should be in his late thirties then, with narrow shoulders and a small build. Most of the time, he was dressed smartly in shirt and long pants and there was an air of arrogance surrounding him. He would have looked rather non-descript if not for his unique-looking goatee protruding from the bottom of his narrow chin.
And it was this distinct looking feature about him that made him the butt of jokes of the mischievous little imp. For a few days straight, the boy made him a source of ridicule by constantly poking fun at the few centimetre long stump of hair. 'Billy Goat' was what he called him. The latter did not do or say anything, probably taking into account, the innocence of the child.
It was until a particular day of the week, probably in the early afternoon or so, when the middle aged man finally snapped. In a fit of anger, he muttered something no one could ever make out, and walked briskly towards the boy in quick and short steps, his right palm raised up high as though there was an irritating mosquito flying in front of him and he wanted to swat it.
Realising that he had finally got into trouble, the little boy let out a shriek and fled, eventually hiding around the corner of a neighbour's flat. Instead of giving chase, the man turned around and headed for the little boy's flat, where he complained to his parents, and then headed back.
It was not until the scene was clear, when the little rascal ran back to his house, into the comforting arms of his parents. After a little admonition by his doting parents, they then decided that it was best for their child to head downstairs to apologise. Not without some procrastination from the little boy, of course.
It was a brief and dramatic encounter between the 2 families outside the 5 room apartment on a quiet little afternoon. The boy with his parents. The 'victim' with his wife. Yes, the boy apologised, prompted constantly by his parents behind him. The man (let's call him Mr Billy Goat) strangely enough, continued where he left off by scolding the poor kid, in front of his wife and the boy's parents. Bursting into tears once more, he was immediately comforted by the man's wife.
The encounter ended soon after, and you bet, the boy didn't dare call the man a billy goat anymore. Or maybe he didn't have the chance to, since he didn't see the man walking along the corridor anymore. It was later known, probably a few months or years later, that the man had shaved off that goatee, probably to stop any irritating kids from calling him names in the future.
The boy, of course, wouldn't have forgotten that incident. Especially not now, since the man's daughter is Fiona Xie.
the one about the suspicious woman
I was on my way to tuition today when I was stopped by a middle aged woman. It was raining rather heavily as I treaded along the wet pavement outside centrepoint towards Orchard Plaza. Plugged in to the sounds of Oasis, I was certainly caught by surprise when I was suddenly halted by this rather small sized woman. She was dressed rather simply and looked decent enough.
At first I thought she was doing some survey or selling some product, but on second thought, she looked too shabby to be doing so. Ever since I read some email my mum sent me about hypnotism by strangers, I have always been wary whenever any stranger comes up to talk to me.
Anyway, this is how the conversation went(mostly in english):
Woman: Hello, do you know how to speak mandarin?
Me: (feeling wary) Erm yea.
Woman: You know english and mandarin?
Me: (thinking it's some stinking survey) Erm yea.
Woman: I just came down from Malaysia..
Me thinking she probably needs a translator or something
Woman: I need to buy porridge...(yada yada yada)..grandma(blah blah).. 3 children...(talk cok)..give me money..
Me with uberfast reflexes and loads of bright ideas
Me: I don't carry cash. I only use my 'xin yong ka' to buy things.
Woman: Nevermind then.
Ok, that's about what happened. Can't really recall the entire conversation. Regarding my last line, I really meant POSB card when I said 'xin yong ka', which meant credit card. And it was really a retarded excuse. I can't possibly use my POSB card to settle all my transactions right? I didn't think anyone would buy it. Of course she did. It was probably one of the thousand excuses she heard that day.
The way she 'let me off' so easily also suggested that she was lying. If you were that desperate, you wouldn't behave that way. She was probably trying her luck on everyone she saw, heck care the plot, heck care the lousy acting, heck care if anyone really gave a heck care about her. She was probably turned down so many times that she was so bored and decided to approach everyone, hoping someone would be dumb enough to take in her story and give her 5 bucks for her 'porridge'.
I remember at one point when I glanced at her suspiciously, she actually gave me that big-eyed innocent look. I wonder if she ever looked into the mirror when she was doing that. C'mon! Even if you decided to go basking, you had to rehearse first right? Even those ah lians and ah lian wannabes who do that (look down slightly and raise eyebrows upwards) look much better than her. Whoever it is, it never fails to irritate me. Not unless you are
Jun Ji Hyeon, of course.
Being a GP student, I have always been told to give 2 sides of the argument. Therefore, in the interest of fairness, I'll just have to say that the woman may actually be telling the truth (surprise surprise) and that she has put in 'considerable' effort in her attempt to make me part with my money. That's about it, I guess.
Well..in the end, I guess she just has her reasons for doing so. Of course, it would do her better if she could get a simple job with a stable income (it's easy if you aren't picky). Or maybe she is just here on a short term basis, and is really in need of money. But how would anyone know? I don't believe her, seriously. Going around asking for money isn't really nice right?
A side note: Depending too much on your POSB card/credit card for transactions instead of using money will actually cause the transactions demand for money to fall. This will in turn result in the Liquidity Preference Curve dropping a few notches, resulting in the lowering of the interest rate. I forgot what happened next.
the one about stupid endings, pool and being overly tyco
Met up with Candice today to watch 'War of the Worlds'. Finally, someone who hasn't watched the show yet. I think everyone I knew rushed to watch the film after the block tests. Not her, she still had her computing exam on Friday.
War of the worlds is suspenseful but was not too scary or gory either. I like that. To me, absolutely shocking or gory movies isn't my cup of tea. Because I freak out, and I'm not afraid to admit it. As the review in the papers said today, the little girl was indeed very irritating, especially in the first few scenes where she did nothing but scream. If you really want me to get off your back, just scream in loud, short bursts like a faulty motocycle engine with an attitude and I may actually consider leaving you alone. Remember those trailer and commercial spam for 'Lost', the thrilling show on Channel 5? I almost considered not watching it because some damsel decided to scream non-stop in one of the commercials.
Tom Cruise, the protaganist of this movie, looks tired in the entire show. I guess anyone would be if humongous squid-like robots chase you over and over again, trying to turn you into dust with their super-cool light beams.
How old is Tom Cruise anyway? 40? 41? Whatever his age, I've never seen anyone so lucky before in my entire life, having 'tycoedly' avoided dozens and dozens of light beams, aliens and explosions and seemingly being able to get out of every single mucky situation he sticks his nose in. I heard he's pretty lucky in the love department too..but that's another story, I don't wish to mention Katie Holmes here.
It's really gripping because throughout the movie, I was asking myself how this story is going to end, because seemingly, I thought it was rather difficult. Would the aliens really get to take over and the story will end with Tom Cruise turning into a slave or something? The aliens look so invincible and sound so loud that I thought Spielberg would get bored at a some point, and ask one of the squids to blast Cruise and his girl into oblivion..and then the credits would start rolling.
No, the ending wasn't as crap as that. It was worse. At least that way, it will change my mindset that the extremely lucky and good-looking people always survive. No, I didn't get to have a kick out of the screaming disappointed female fans.
Instead I was treated to a minute of bio lesson regarding the history of bacteria. They really don't take into account non-bio students huh? Anyway, I don't see how any story could end in that manner. Did a terrorist take over the set and hold Spielberg at gun point or something?
Even highly intelligent beings like me and Candice didn't get it. At one scene near the ending, Cruise pointed out to the army guy that there were birds flocking on top of the giant squid. And the next moment, they realised that the shields were down and everyone started firing at it. What were the birds doing up there? Were they there to show that it was actually safe to fly around since the shields were down? If yes, how did the shields deactivate themselves? Or maybe they just shat on it and the bacteria contaminated the robot and caused it to lose its marbles. Spielberg didn't explain enough.
I think the movie was really meant for the squids and the 4 guest aliens who appeared. If not why human beings cannot understand, because we are not as intelligent as those creatures right, Spielberg? Okay, anyway both of us agreed the ending was crappy.
On a side note though, Spielberg did a fine job in threading the balance between alien action, loud, strange noises and interpersonal relations. Throughout the show, the scary massacre of humans by the aliens are constantly cast in comparison with the horrific potrayal of human nature at its worse. Just look at the scene where Cruise gets his vehicle stopped and attacked by mobs and mobs of desperate survivors..I actually thought it was rather freaky. If you were in the show, what will you rather be doing? Being hunted down by aliens? Or being involved in a bloody survival battle with your own kind? On the whole, the movie was still considered a good one to catch.
Later we walked over to her mum's office at Somerset to play pool at the basement recreational club. We played about 4 games and I think I lost 4..is it? Maybe not, maybe I won 2 officially, if I remember correctly, but that's because she was unlucky and hit in the black ball at the wrong time and into the wrong hole respectively. She would have won otherwise.
In other words, I
think I was thrashed.
the one about being a jedi
I dreamt a couple of weeks ago that I was a jedi from Starwars. No ordinary jedi but the one who defected the dark side. In other words:
Okay, I wasn't exactly him, but I remembered holding a lightsabre and actually thinking of defecting to the
dark side. (does itallics make the dark side look more evil?)
I was speaking to another jedi (which was actually one of my real life friends) about my decision and this is how it went:
me: I'm joining the dark side.
Friend looks disappointed.
me: (seeing the disappointment I caused) Erm, not confirmed yet. maybe only..
Ok, maybe my friend or should I say, fellow jedi or to-be-ex jedi(since the rest gets wiped out in the end)said something, but I forgot. But the gist is there.
the one about what i might want to do in the future
I have always believed that second to money, music is the next thing that makes the world spin on its axis. In fact, in the recent years especially, I grew to learn that the globe is indeed, grooving and moving to the different beats of music playing around the world.
And if there's one thing you should know about me, it is that I simply adore singing. I sing both chinese and english songs, and I intend to develop whatever potential I have in this area. Right now, I'm learning how to play the classical guitar and in the near future, I'm probably going to take up the electric guitar and then maybe, just maybe the drums.
I know I'm pretty slow, but I intend to form a rock band in the university. And we are probably going to turn out something like this:
OasisBut in any case, if I don't form a band, I'll probably join lots of solo competitions, cross my fingers and hope some record company takes note of me. Teeheehee. I bet you guys agree that Singapore's music scene is pretty dry, but I am pretty much confident in its future. Lots of impressive local singers and bands are popping out, and soon enough, we will have a market of our own.
But then again, let's be practical. This is not America. Singing doesn't really get you much cash, which is probably the most important thing in the world (be real, let's face it)..That's why I'll probably pursue music only as a passion in life, a passion that will give my most-likely-boring lifestyle some CPR.
Oh yah and by the way, if you really want to be very very popular but you can't sing for nuts, you can probably run for office. You could even be notorious. wow.
the one about cooking
Was supposed to catch 'War of the Worlds' with Herman this evening. Too bad we forgot it was a Saturday(every place sold out)and therefore, we ended up hanging around in town, window shopping and talking about stuff.
Herman's into cooking, and he claims he can mix drinks as well. He's intending to learn french recipes in the near future and that's quite cool. We both agree that girls might actually find guys who cook romantic and sweet, especially french food.
'Language of Love, my friend', as the slightly taller than me, half-thai dude who's into electric guitars says to me.
He leads me to a magnificient shelf of cookbooks in the middle of Borders Bookstore and gives me ideas on what dishes I can actually whip out to chase girls. I felt so insulted and punched his teeth out.
'I am a natural chick magnet.', I say. 'I don't need to bake muffins to impress girls!' and proceed to pee on him.
Ok, the last part was fake. I'm no where near being a chick magnet. But he is different. He cooks for his girlfriend and juggles little silver bottles around, mixing exotic cocktails for her (not sure about this). I guess that probably explains his name.
Back at the Border's bookshelf, I was momentarily lost and amazed by the huge variety of cookbooks lying before me. I made a discovery of a lifetime. It suddenly dawned on me that food did not just consist of the microwave quick meals from 7-11 and that can of ice lemon tea! I was overwhelmed by waves and waves of andrenaline as I discovered the existence of various cooking methods like baking and grilling..
Ok, back to being serious, it suddenly dawned on me that cooking could be my new hobby. Cooking looks and seems therapeutic right? Is it? All the pictures in the cookbook look so fabulous...Seemingly feeling exasperated by all the lengthy recipes I flipped through, I blurted out one of the silliest thing one could say at that time, "Any food recipes that doesn't require cooking?" or something equally retarded that made the woman beside me turn around and say, "There's one over there. Kid's cookbook." (actually it wasn't really
that stupid right? salad don't need to cook right)
There you have it. Being dissed by a total stranger for the first time in my entire life. I guess she was just speaking up for all the dutiful cooking ladies out there who hate lazy, chavunistic men who can't cook and ask stupid questions. I felt small and weak for that instant and Herman had to help me up from the floor.
But what if I really devoted my life to cooking and inventing new recipes? Life would be great, wouldn't it? Imagine being able to whip out
Just think of all the good stuff that will be pouring in. I can host my own 'Morning/Afternoon/Night/Supper with Hao' cook show and hire a busty assistant chef who will stand there prettily and Jamie Oliver to clean up the mess after the show. I will have loads and loads of female fans ranging from ages 8 to 55 chasing me around Singapore in Taxis or if I make it big, in aeroplanes as I travel the world. Because of the unwanted attention and jealousy of the rest of the male population, I will have my own bevy of female body guards who follow me everywhere I go, even to the loo.
When taking a break from making millions of dollars, I can even secretly whip out a pleasant little dish of snails and pasta for the girl I adore, who may, to my disappointment, not eat it and sell it on eBay. My parents will be so proud of me.
the one about ironies & dark chocolate
This is the first post of my blog. Well, actually I have another blog from diaryland but too many private stuff got dumped into it and I decided to lock it.
You know, how it's so strange when you seemingly have so much to blog about but when the time comes for you to start typing, you just can't do so. It's almost agonizing to be typing 1 sentence every 2 minutes. Before I actually started this blog, ideas seemed to be streaming in like..water being poured into a mouth belonging to someone who is apparently very thirsty - fast and furious. I almost confirmed that I was a genius with spider sense. Hey! But here I am, typing at a rate of 1 sentence every 2 minutes, which is in other words 2 sentences in about 4 minutes! Damn.
Ok, I think I'll just talk about my army medical checkup I had yesterday. Being the i-can't-afford-to-be-second type of person, I was the first to arrive at 740am, first to register at the counter, but sadly not the first to finish. Actually the medical part was reasonably quick and efficient, probably because I'm the first to arrive (and the first to register). It was the psychometeric test and the survey which took up the most time. The test was an IQ test supposedly, a tedious one definitely. I actually thought the one at
tickle was simpler and less stressful. I'm serious.
In the end, I received a PES A, even though I prayed hard that they give me an E, so I could slack for 2 years. Life is pretty ironic, don't you think? It's always the ones which are the fittest or the most enthusiastic about receiving sadistic training getting the Es..while under-achievers like me get to be labelled 'fit for all vocations', which sounds flattering and scary at the same time. But no doubt, getting PES A does boost confidence and I'll most probably do my best in that 2 years (I think).
I read about a NSF man collapsing while he was jogging in the newspapers today.
That sounded pretty weird. I don't think anyone lays newspapers on the ground and jogs on them. I meant to say 'I read in the newspapers today, that a NSF man collapsed while he was jogging.' Ok, that sounded more logical right?
It's rather scary for someone perfectly healthy and fit to just collapse and die like that. They say it's heart attack or something along that line. Something about blood not being able to flow. Also, the number of perfectly healthy people collapsing and dying from 2001 to 2003 hit about 200..I think they also mentioned that these were young individuals. Guess these are all the facts I can remember, correct me if I'm wrong.
I shall end with a wonderful quote inspired by my idol, which goes by the modest initials F.G
"Life is unpredictable. You may just die. Eat more dark chocolate."
"hello. my name is forrest gump."
