that image running in my mind

On the way back home from Changi Airport - the night was just creeping into the wee hours - this was the image that kept propping up in my head: narrow streets flanked by shops with a canopy of signboards of all sizes and colours, and tall, skinny buildings looming in the background. Different images formed, but inevitably they were of the same scene.

Nothing else quite came to mind, and I took occasional glances at the speedometer (which was going at 120kmh at one point) while clutching the plastic bag at my feet to keep the two bottles of duty-free Absolut Volka and champange from toppling.

Only a few hours ago i was zipping through dense streets which were constantly overfilling with people, people that were constantly moving rapidly. It was messy, even claustrophobic, but that was quintessential Hong Kong: at least based on what I've come to imbibe from culturally fed images on TV over the years.

And now, here I was seated in the comfort of a taxi coasting smoothly along the Pan-Island Expressway. Orderliness prevails - the vibes of it, at least.

yummlicious stuff

Instead of waffle, this was what went down my stomach - with the help of 5 others to share the calories, of course. Not that I am complaining.

And where on earth did Gelare at Holland V disappear to???

S.W.O.T

I was working on an email, writing paragraph after paragraph trying to emphasize the current situation, which requires attention and fixing. There's the problem of this, which leads to that, and this has implications for that and that. There's the other problem, which kind of restricts this, and that approach would seem not wise, resulting in this and that. Blah Blah Blah.

Then it hit me that what i am trying to put in words would be better illustrated using, er hmm, SWOT analysis. That simple but brilliant tool that I've left behind after graduating from university. How smart! And having said all this, this much about me you should know - either I wasn't a business student, or I was a lousy business student.

Must be the run that gave me (work) inspiration. *shudders*

Fussy old fusspot!

Jon's hilarious email prompted me to dig out these two books - Mr Perfect and Mr Fussy - from my dusty bookshelf. I had such a fun time reading the books all over again, as well as the words penned by my friends. The book was each given by a group of friends in JC. Needless to say, the group which gave me Mr Perfect consists of more gentle souls, while the other group were my incorrigibly playful and abusive friends. Some people choose to see good, some people just don't. *chortle*

Mr Crap didn't know about the two books that I have, and i was grinning silly when i read his absolutely well-crafted Mr Choosy. At the risk of smearing my distinguished reputation, I knew i have to immortalise his story. And below it is:

__________________________
mr xxx,

have you read/seen the mr. men series of books?? they have mr jelly, mr tickle, mr bump, etc....but not many people know
abt mr choosy...

Once upon the near future, on his upcoming 26th bday, in the far edges of jurong west, mr choosy has the daunting task of making some really important decisions...

1. choose which day next week he wants to celebrate his bday with mr young and mr crap. mr crap suggests fri the 5th of may

2. both mr young and mr crap don't know what to get for mr choosy, so he can either decide dinner or a shopping trip to a bike shop where he can choose (hopefully not too long) anything he wants, within budget, of cos. mr crap knows mr choosy will say that he doesnt want either, not becuase he feels bad, but because he can't choose! so mr young and mr crap insist that mr choosy chooses something he likes.

3. also mr choosy has to decide where to eat, preferably somewhere with a simple menu, so mr choosy won't spend too much time deliberating on what to eat.

lastly, mr young would like to remind mr choosy (who is also mr photog) to bring 2 x copies of the sedili ride photos

mr crap will promise to entertain mr choosy and mr young by telling them all about his dinner with miss indeterminate beauty...that should be reason enough for mr choosy to promtly come out with decisions regarding the 3 really important questions

[damn-i can be a story teller]

Dated: 27 August 2008

September Treats

Top to bottom: Sat, 27 Sep 08: Caleb's birthday cake. Had an entire group of staff suddenly bursting into Happy Birthday Song, which caught even us the planners unaware; Tue, 9 Sep 08: Yummy banana split at Swensens @ Orchard with JG and M. Had helluva time catching up on good 'ol times; Tue, 9 Sep 08: Chatterbox chicken rice, so expensive that I can only eat with my Atas friend, who didn't know Chatterbox has moved to the 39th floor.

Snatches of September

September weighed rather consciously on my mind. I couldn't be awakened from a September vacation, for it didn't happen at all. Instead, a flurry of activities and late nights in office stole the sweet breath of September away. Until a week ago, it was as if September was one long breath drawn, with respite far away in sight. I can breathe a little easier now, but things are hardly any better. Or maybe it's just me being pessimistic. I read a novel and it was described that there were two kinds of (mediocre) people: the mediocre realists, and the mediocre dreamers. There was an immediate affinity to the latter that seems to be my conscious soul saying, hey, that's you. As if to prove that judgment and instinctive feeling right, I started to wonder if labels and terms like these bear any truth, or might they ring some degree of truth if only because people's minds attach meaning to them to reinforce what they already believed?

Perhaps it is because my birthday falls in September that makes me fond of the month, the ninth in the year. But I like September because it sounds nicer than other months; it has a soothing, autumn-like feel that is reassuring (hint of mediocre dreamer?). Almost at the stroke of midnight which ushered in my birthday, a group of people sang me a birthday song, some of them I've only known and spoken with in the last 24 hours. The next day, I crashed out and lay in bed till afternoon, recuperating from a physically exhausting day before. The exhausting day was a memorable one though, and I have no complains of being completely tired out. After all, how often does one's good friend tie the knots on the day before one's birthday?

In the 3 weeks that he was back preparing for his wedding, we probably met up and hung out together more than we ever did in the past 3 years combined. We hit the bars to drink, and he would invariably regale me with stories on the Brits' love for drinking, whereupon I would remind him that this is Singapore, hello. He's one of those good friends who, despite not meeting up frequently, I feel very at ease when hanging out together. We could talk about many things and there won't be awkward silences. It helps that - as is the case with other good friends - we have a healthy appetite for the absurd, funny, crappy, but can still hold a serious conversation if we want to. We had a lot of fun during the 3 weeks leading to his wedding day, so much so that I admit feeling a tinge of sadness when he returned to London, this time with his wife.

Another good friend's birthday falls in September too, and we met up for dinner a week ago. I meant it to be a birthday treat but he beat me to it by calling for the bill when I went to the washroom. Said i paid too many times and he's learnt to be smart finally. I felt cheated. Over dinner I told him about JG's wedding, M's unresponsiveness and the smashing gathering he'd missed (lucky guy was backpacking in Central Asia). We laughed and joked, as is always the case. Then, almost casually, he dropped that he's now attached ('By the way...'). When I probed further, I realised that he didn't have to do anything - except to ask - to win the approval of his girlfriend (what was the girl thinking?!). Suddenly the world seemed a little lonelier, what with everyone getting attached or married.

The following day - coincidentally, the last day of September - I went for a run with Eugene to train for marathon. It was the first time we were running alongside each other instead of cycling. It was also the first time that I ran some 12km at East Coast Park whilst talking nearly the entire run. I didn't go breathless, but it sure felt like an added component to the usual training. Holding a converstation while running turned out to be not a bad thing at all, for I got through the boring parts of ECP pretty quickly without the boredom catching on. Moreover, it was a good opportunity to know a friend better, and Eugene and I had had some good conversations. Later, we guiltlessly indulged in sinfully good prawn noodles and fried kway teow for dinner, even though both of us weren't the least bit bothered by the level of (un)healthiness - with or without the run. I remember the night ended with heavy rain (thus ended our it-won't-rain-let's-not-say-too-early talk), and though i had to use my umbrella to get home from the train station, I was quite a happy man because of the cool weather. Listening to my MP3 with two bags slung across my shoulder, I stepped into the rain feeling a sense of fuzzy warmth, having had a good evening and knowing that a good sleep now awaited me.

Maybe September didn't start well enough. But it does seem like I wasn't treated shabbily in its closing. For that I am thankful.