Moment Musicaux

Osim’s Singapore Triathlon is coming again in July. Wow, it’s been almost a year since I took part with the ex-colleagues (15th in category, recap)! Like I’d said, I would want to do a Sprint or Mini this year. But well, since I’ve no bike to train - yet, I guess I’d start with biathlons first. Singapore Biathlon 2008 next March! Must train train train! Choo choo!

Edit: Knee has not been in good shape though.

P.S. Did you know that detergent powder turns warm when it comes into contact with water? I just found out on my own! 

I went to Pulau Ubin for the first time since I knew of its existence with Evan, Jiahui and Benjamin. We had to recce the sleepy island for a older-youth event that’s coming up. Armed with 2 rented bikes and a tandem (one of us couldn’t cycle independently), we had no idea of what’s to come from trying to mess with Mother um, Earth.

All went well initially. We had fun whizzing down slopes, huffing and puffing to Evan’s self-motivational phrases of "Don’t you know how much people pay for such cardio exercises?" when trudging up the slopes, playing with a snow-white kittten that was SO CUTE, rescuing three big dogs away from three screaming PRCs (I mean, really)… The weather was not too hot, no wild animals attacked us, the tandem was in tandem — then it started pouring.

We sought shelter at the tip of the island with a bunch of guys who were intending to camp. The plan was to take an earth trail back to civilisation, and we set off once the rain subsided. Bad move. We overlooked the fact that in our case, Earth + Rain doesn’t = Life. It equates to MUD. Splashed around in the mud, we did. She did. Okay, I did. I fell into a big puddle (thank God not face first) when I attempted to cycle over a 1028-pixels-wide gangplank that separated me from cleanliness and muddy hell. So I ended up with a muddy bike, a pair of hole-y, nowmudcaked CLIMACOOLS (you can imagine) that continued to collect all kinds of souvenirs from Pulau Ubin. Which was not as bad as it could have been, like getting a face off a facial spa ad.

We slashed our way through bushes, following a bikeforsaken trail — and became another bunch of victims of a route gone wrong. There was a forking path that wasn’t stated on the map and it led to us making a whole round of the quarry, which I estimate was a probable 10km. We realised it when we found the bridge vaguely familiar, and for me, the mudpool and gangplank.

Of course, the easiest way out was to head back to the paths properly laid out for us, and we whizzed back to the amusement of some Innova JC kids who were wowing at our Muddinesses.

I went back to a nice fish steamboat dinner at Changi Village, saw the 3 PRCs that we rescued again, and another seafood dinner at Newton to celebrate the brother’s 21st birthday. So that’s bye-bye to the calories I burnt that afternoon. But dang, it makes me like biking more (minus the butt-pain that comes after), and increasing my wish to join a triathlon!!! Mommy still doesn’t like the idea of me riding a bicycle on the road, that’s why. Sigh.

Dang, I can’t believe I was the millionth and counting to know about the Apple 1984 video spoof on Hilary Clinton. >>

It’s interesting to note that the creator of the ‘ad’ used to work for the Obama alliance, and even more interesting to see how much the Internet is being used and playing dog-and-bone in this U.S. presidential election. Read the New York Times article here. >>

MySpace has entered U.S. politics! These guys (MySpace, not the politics) are quite brilliant, and taking over the virtual world… >>

The MySpace site which links to all the other presidential candidates’. >>
(Just to satisfy your curiosity, Obama is leading the friends race by 60km. I mean, 60k of friends.)

To…

…EXERCISE.

Wakeboarding/tennis/swimming/running/basketball/soccer/cycling/ANYTHING (apart from the humidity) that can make me perspire…PLEASE!

Meeting the ECD next week. My job is in God’s hands.

Glory’s youths are simply… Unique.

Jobee after being hit with a piece of paper with "illness" written on it: "AH! I’ve been hit by illness!"
After Jobee’s wife exchanged her credit card number and pin for an ear of corn: "You’ve been conned by a corn!"
(Wilson, from the audience: "That’s so corny!")

The prodigal son (when he receives his ‘inheritance’): "I hope I won’t be mugged by a mugger!"
Next scene: A HC mugger walks by, mugging (studying).

Cleaner at Prodigal Daughter’s suicide attempt: "Don’t jump here! This building is not tall enough, won’t die one!"

Etc etc. 

And yes, that’s the culture we have in Glory church. Thanks for the great skits put up, despite the really short time of preparation. I had a great time! So did the parents who attended. Good job guys! (:

Before Wednesday, the last I went to Sentosa was probably sometime in 2005. That’s something, considering the fact that Sentosa is one of my favourite haunts. And my, has it changed. Maybe I’m the last to know that the train line has been open, and the place is so built up already.

(View from the train station.)

It seems to me as though the gahmen’s trying to milk out every bit of Sentosa and build it up, so that they can ‘attract tourists’ while retaining its ‘natural’ feel. Don’t you think the beach itself is starting to look like an IR on its own?

Well, the sun was good — too good — I’m very burnt right now. Even my scalp hurts. And ankle. And Achilles’ tendon. And wrist. Bah. It was a Youth Fellowship outing, and I believe everyone had loads of fun. Especially some of the boys and their sand-sculpting attempt.

Tsk, tsk. I have to hand it to them for creativity, though. 

"Gratitude is based on the belief that God is painting a picture that will turn out for His glory regardless of our present circumstances.

[…] 

Faith, if it is true faith, is not placed in circumstances or in the directions in which our affairs seem to be moving but in God’s character. His character never varies. This is why our faith should not vary and why our gratitude may include all things."

~ Walking in Fellowship with God: Discples’ prayer life, T.W. Hunt & Catherine Walker(1997)

Even though it was "Chick Corea and Gary Burton Duets", the show should have been renamed "Gary Burton and Chick Corea". The night was clearly Gary Burton’s, with his fantastic vibraphone technique and musicality. He’s living proof that percussion instruments are not dead, or brushed aside as the rhythm section. The rarity of watching a vibraphonist (and a fantastic one at that) could have partly been the reason why the show was stolen by him, but even when Chick Corea took over the melody and solos, he didn’t seem to stand out as much as when Gary Burton did. Regardless, they are living legends, and the music certainly lived up to it.

Read Crystal, my band junior’s review — she’s the jazz/percussion junkie here  

It all turned out well — we were moved from the second level to 3rd-row stall seats, almost the best seats in the house. Teehee. The view took out the lullaby that threatened now and then; so did my classical music background. Then again, I haven’t been listening to much classical nowadays. I probably can’t appreciate it as well as I could before. It was the BF-running-on-an-empty-stomach whom was terribly fidgety. Heh.

Don’t you just adore Get Fuzzy? I look forward to reading every feed each day. Definitely one of my favourite comic strips.

Chick Corea with the bf/family tonight!

28 May, Monday, @BAR NONE. Watch this space.

I just watched the most awesome concert ever. I loved the way the lighting perfectly emoted the music and completed its atmosphere. Muse’s gig literally dims in comparison to theirs. The band was so, so tight — 10 amazing, versatile and energetic musicians on a stage playing as though there were 13 of them. They played one song after the other, melodiously stirring heart and mind; an epic flourish washing over all the senses. Magic. The Observatory was good too — I personally prefer their older stuff though.

On a side note, the organisers should have more emcee/staff quality control. They are only putting themselves up for embarrassment when their staff do not pronounce the name of the acts that they’re bringing in correctly. Or rant at people who enter the toilet accidentally when they’re cleaning it. Next up, Chick Corea!

P.S. I’m so proud of Mr A.

I realised something else about myself: if I really care [about something or someone], I’ll seldom remain silent.

At the end of the day, I may be seen as a pedant, a prude, a purveyor, a preach, a pest. But some things will never feel right if bottled up. Or remaining silent when it’s an obvious wrong. Then again, there’s whom, there’s timing, there’s wording, there’s tone and mannerism, there’s context, there’s semantic noise, there’s the worth etc.

Communication has always fascinated me. It’s an amazing process, and an amazingly tough one too. I have so much to learn, and I believe the me today and that of a couple of years ago is a very different one. I try to make it a point to work out the situation and what my response would be before I open my mouth. At least, I hope I’m doing it right.

The emotions-control-freak that spawned in me since 2005 has probably done me good in its unseeming ways.

Ah, finally. A personal post!

Edit: On hormones and teenagers - read it here. >> 

I was making a purchase at the Esplanade’s Mosaic memorabilia shop today. I struck up a conversation with the cashier, asking him if he’d be catching any of the shows. He said he caught the "out-of-the-world" Duke Ellington Orchestra while doing ushering the day before. The salesman in him then kicked in, and he led me to the CDs area and recommended a couple of them to me.

Suddenly, he pointed at a Mosaic poster on the wall and began speaking passionately of a particular act. According to him, they "had only 600 tickets sold, despite the great talent of the (foreign) artistes". (He’s of the same ethnicity as them.) It then got a bit tricky when he went on to gripe about the lack of publicity they received — and attributed it to the lousy timing and bureaucracy. 

I saw it apt to hold my tongue as I didn’t expect his mini-outburst and didn’t have a democratic response offhand (sorry, PAP). I understood where he was coming from; the duo did receive little publicity, but I believe the more expensive acts had to be given more airtime to draw crowds and earn revenue. Anyhow, I smiled and let him rant.

My mind was wondering about something else.

When I first stepped into the shop, he completely ignored my presence till I approached him to make a purchase. I wouldn’t have put two and two together if he didn’t start speaking about ‘bureaucracies’ — or greeted the nicely dressed, angmoh mother and son who entered soon after I did. Ironic.

This time, I was at Auntie Ching Ching’s (a church member) house. It was a condo (she does stay in one) with 3 lifts going to different floors. I remember going up and down the lift in order to avoid someone, but I remember know why. After that, we left to get to Uncle Jimmy’s (her husband) car. But the car was parked the other side of a mountain, and to get to the mountain, we had to climb a really tall overhead bridge. I remember having a bit of acrophobia - height phobia - (in reality, I don’t) then, but managed to reach the mountain anyway. On the bridge, a sprightly old lady joined me.

We walked along a path at the edge of the mountain which got narrower till it ended. What was left was the steep surface of the mountain, and the old lady told me that climbing up was the only way. The surface was surprisingly soft; I dug my hands into it and started up. It was quite tough though, and I had to overcome some inner fears to really climb. A few metres later, the old lady lost her footing - I caught her, but she slipped out of my grasp after a while and fell into the deep ravine. I didn’t fall, but felt the somersaulting and falling sensation too.

I continued up the mountain, only to be ambushed by natives — I had to play a piggy-back game and piggy-back 5 people in order to get across. The game’s actually a bit more complicated, but I shall spare the details.

With much difficulty, I got across. And I woke up. 

I’m extremely jealous of Liang, because he’s in OZ and going to catch John Mayer in THIS. And that’s not all — Dave Matthews Band, John Butler Trio AND Bela Fleck and the Flecktones will be there too!

Catching all three of them before they get too old and disband is on my must-do-before-I-die list.

And the festival could’ve fulfilled that wish in one fell swoop. Grahh.

I had strange dreams last night. The weird stuff I saw probably provoked them. I think. My dreams are usually recurring ones, or have a similar theme to it. This time, they were unique.

I first dreamt of an extremely crazy rollercoaster ride that has 5 high consecutive loops and many twists - exactly the kind that I’ve always wanted to ride on. Then there were a few of us from Mass Comm riding on the single-seater carriages.

After hitting the first few loops, a friend’s (whom I dearly love but lost the friendship) carriage FELL OFF. Everyone looked on in horror as it plunged rapidly into the darkness. I recall myself almost hysterical and praying real hard. I was aware that I was dreaming but I refused to allow him to die. The next thing I knew, I saw him jump out. And from him, a parachute emerged. It didn’t catch the wind properly until 20 feet from the ground. I didn’t breathe till he survived the fall.

When that ordeal was over, we boarded an MRT train - which hit the railings. The rear carriages got damaged, and we decided to break off our section from the rest of the train in order to repair it. The next train was fast approaching, but we couldn’t find the root of the problem. At the last second, two 1-cent coins were found stuck in the rivets of the wheels.

We sped off safely - and were brought to another location - where I was supposed to be part of a singing competition. I didn’t know that I was involved until the contestant before my turn, and Terence Yeo was supposed to be doing a duet with me. The boy’s travelling right now (that is a real fact), so I told them I had no partner. Retro was the theme, and I browsed through my memory’s library, thinking of songs by Duran Duran to Simply Red and finally Whitney Houston, whose ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ I settled upon. But I couldn’t do all of the lyrics and didn’t have a costume - I refused to go up and embarrass myself.

So I told myself to wake up. It was 1045. 

What was/am/would I be doing at the age of 19?
Certainly not this. >>

I found some weird stuff strewn on the floor beside the stone tables at my lift landing tonight. Really, really, really, strange. I have a slightly dysfunctional neighbourhood, and I’m not joking. As far as I’ve heard from the pipeline, there are 3 mentally unsound people currently living in my block. Two of them  (a mother and her daughter) would start screaming at each other in the middle of the night if the mother (whose condition is worse) doesn’t take her medicine. I always feel very disturbed when the screamings start. The 3rd guy goes in and out of mental hospital. So much for living in a ‘prestigious’ HDB neighbourhood.