Archive for June, 2012

Pointless triennial ritual

June 27, 2012

Yes it’s time again when I meet the Boss, be a broken record, and watch as nothing absolutely changes. How I wish I could just shut up and say nothing like I did couple of years ago – or was it last year? I forgot.

Like Soaps said, why do we keep doing things we patently find pointless and obviously don’t want to do? Or is the whole point to perform a passive-aggressive act of silent resistance? And at what point will we have moved quietly, insidiously, into the delusion that nothing will change because we can’t do anything to change it? Others have put this more succinctly than I but I just need to put this down here now I guess.


Gym chronicles

June 26, 2012

Actually it’s just an update. People say you should photograph yourself daily so you can track the minute physical changes over a period of time; so I’m going for something different and in writing.

Stupidly tried a new setting which upped the resistance level quite drastically and had to revert to the old setting after 5 tortuous minutes. Which made the rest of the session a torture cos the body had been thrown out of whack by that misguided foray. It’s going to take a while before I can even up to level 2 without feeling like dying after 30 minutes, so what’s with trying out Level 10 even for 5 minutes?


Weird dream, or weird dreamer

June 23, 2012

I was at Holland Village. It was raining and I was trying to get home. This girl bumps into me. I was annoyed, but decided to let it go. But she kept insisting on apologizing, and I finally get to take a good look at her. She was rather pretty. So I introduced myself, rather nervously.

Her name was Nmint. (I remember spelling it out to get it right.) She was Malaysian who lived in JB. She was also kind of nervous, but we sort of hit it off and decided to wait out the rain in a cafe. One of the things we talked about was the JB accent, and she mentioned how Singaporeans could always be identified in Malaysia from the way they spoke. She told me she was also on The Job, and we got to talking about it. She shared a bad memory about when she was a student with her GP teacher named Mohd something. It’s implied she’s on The Job at JJ, and we realised we knew some mutual colleagues. Then I find out she used to study where I now was, and naturally I asked her to seriously consider returning to her alumni to work. She wasn’t initially very keen, but agreed to consider it. I even remarked on how I would very much like it if we eventually became colleagues.

Eventually the rain stopped and I summoned my courage to ask if I could see her home. We took the train – railway, not subway – and we continued talking over food. When we arrived, she didn’t want to get down straightaway, but told me to go ahead because she wanted to finish her meal. Her manner felt like she was waiting for something or someone. I told her I was ok waiting for her, and she agreed to let me stay.

Then an elderly couple came into the car (we were like in a private booth, with a table in the centre of the car where we ate) and sat down in front of us. Nmint whispered to me that she needed my help. She told me whatever happened, even if she replied to the contrary, that if I was asked my opinion I should say ‘no’. The woman began her presentation, taken from a written document (which I felt very strongly was a formal legal submission to the court appealing their case) and it became clear that the old couple was Nmint’s biological parents who wanted her back. During her very emotional speech explaining why Nmint had been given up, I could feel Nmint was getting very emotional too – her breathing was laboured and she was holding back tears. I had my arms around her, giving her support.

The woman finished speaking and then the man started. This time he addressed me. He wanted to show me something. I was inducted into some kind of virtual reality experience where I did, among other things, throw different-sized balls into a rather small makeshift hoop on top of a bed, with a virtual character interacting with me, encouraging me to make the shots, try harder etc. Eventually I became aware of something stopping my left ear, and I started to get at it. It felt like it played a central role in controlling what I was currently experiencing. Eventually I managed to pull something out – a very long strip of confetti-like white paper. Then I woke up.


Of course, this one’s easier to decipher: YS leaning against me; I tilt my head down towards her face as she arches up, and we share a tender kiss. Wow.

Caloric counting

June 23, 2012

Like I mentioned earlier, I decided to hit the gym 3 times a week after putting it off forever. I also decided to drastically cut my food intake and menu – that means no more fast food, desserts, candy, high carb stuff but salad, salad, salad is the name of the game for now on. It’s been 2 weeks now and I’m slowly coming around to the green diet and while it’s hard giving up Ed’s aglio olio (except on Saturdays, when I feel I can reward myself for a whole week’s discipline), it should pay off if I’m focused and patient enough.

So far gym is not too bad, especially after your muscles get used to the regular workout, but a lot of it is really mental. This Wednesday past was a little bad because the mental negativity was slightly higher than usual and that really messed up the motivation a bit, but I still got through the workout. Must try to think positive thoughts and more positive thoughts!

The next phase is really when The Job restarts this coming Monday and I need to juggle lessons, marking, gym and the A crap. Let’s hope it gets better next time I blog about this. I’ve decided not to tie myself to targets but just build it slowly and see where it goes – here’s something that gives me a whole lot of good – better health, more mental alertness, a concrete plan of action that is achievable if I stick to it in a focussed and disciplined manner – and only requires a good half hour sweating it out in a pretty nice environment. Fingers crossed!

Getting to the heart of Twitter

June 22, 2012

So J asked me along to a screening of Tan Siok Siok’s Twittamentary held at an MBA seminar at SMU and it was a great experience. Had seen the trailer and was glad to be able to catch the whole thing now. So I learned stock traders tweet real time financial updates, a female trucker advocated against sexual violence in the trucking industry and animal rescue, pundits see the Twitter era as a ‘golden age for news consumers’, and how Twitter helps to construct one’s ‘social media resume’. All very informative stuff that I hopefully can use when on the topic of new media later this term. I made a comment which J said took the room a bit, which was a nice observation, but what struck me was the great feeling of being in class again. Maybe I should seriously think about that Terrorism Studies course again.

A post that’s half a year late is still a post

June 21, 2012

It’s been a while. November 2011 to be exact. I’ve been with the noobs 14 weeks now, and frankly sometimes it’s frustrating when they choose not to listen.

I begin to doubt a lot. About whether I should still be in The Job. Whether there’s going to be more to life than marking at Ed’s, straddling two subjects, gym and teaching a bunch of people you don’t or can’t really get through.

Then of course to top it all there’s the annulment. I don’t know how I’m going to get through that and everything else. Yes it had to be done – this was never really a union to begin with, but it’s still a loss and it’s still painful in ways I don’t think I can express. And then there’s my longing for female companionship. V calls it obsession; I don’t know what to make of it anymore. Isn’t it normal to want to share your life with someone, to make it your utmost priority where everything else falls away, burns away because it’s material and grossly earthly until there’s only this, this connection between two people that fixes certainty on existence? Or maybe that’s just the Mils and Boon of commodified ideas. I don’t know if I can ever get used to, deal with being alone.

It’s all very confusing right now.

I miss spending time with J. We used to be so close – at least I felt we were close. Now we barely talk anymore. I feel we’re drifting apart day by day, all the reasons given merely hollow excuses. I really wish you’d tell me what happened between us, what CHANGED. I can take it if you don’t want us to be friends anymore, but I wish you’d just tell me that honestly – no more ‘sometimes I prefer to be quiet’ or ‘I’m not always with my phone’ or ‘I thought you needed some time off’. I want to tell you so many things, but each time I try to I stop myself, not knowing if you really bother anymore. I feel taken for granted; approached only when you need my help. But the truth is I want to spend time with you. I like it when we are in contact. And then I beat myself ever so hard when it’s over and the reality dawns that you never had this depth of feeling I did about us and it’s all one-sided and there is actually no relationship, no us, but still I’m happy for that little time when you contact me because I want to be deluded you care about me and that somewhere, somehow, I matter in your universe.

But when I ask myself deep down, do I want to spend the rest of my life with you, the answer’s no. We’re separated by too many things and you need to go out there and live, and we’re at different phases of our lives. So why do I feel so bad we don’t talk anymore? What is this depth of feeling, this ‘I wish I matter in your universe’ that I’m going on about? What drives me to hunt the entire plaza for your Instax to the point where WS declares enough is enough? To put 150% into your assignments even though I have a shitload of marking? To carefully craft out the appeal letter which you eventually did not use?

As you see – confused.

You said just now you wanted to read my blog. In a funny way actually I hope you’ll get to read this. Maybe it’s just vanity but you don’t know how many times I’ve rehearsed telling you what I’ve written here. I know I can’t bear to hear you deny there’s a problem, so I guess I just have to write it down and get it off my chest and hopefully I’d feel better.

Moving on is hard. And I thought going to the gym would be the killer. In actual fact sweating it out is less painful than dealing with all this. I’m just human, with human needs and human dreams. And yet oftentimes I feel I’m asked to be more than human, to be patient in the face of unreasonableness, to be understanding when faced with indifferent resistance, to be kind when others are unkind. I feel I do try, but nothing’s ever enough. If someone doesn’t accuse me of not doing more, I end up accusing myself. So what’s the solution?

I really hope I get my shit together soon, because Term 3 is going to be a doozy – marking and more marking and I hope I can sustain gym together with all the craziness. And I guess I need to get started on the speech too; another chore I’m beginning to regret agreeing to do. Maybe all I need is more work to distract me from all this thinking, from the fantasy that it would have been really nice to be RC to you, sweetie princess.