OK, I admit. I broke... This is the meme I am obligated to put up on my blog. This shall be the first and ONLY time I'm even volunteering for one. BUT I'm a curious narcissist. Therefore justified.
Post these on the comments, and I'll respond with the same for you. If you want me to,
1. Respond with something random about you
2. Challenge you to try something
3. Pick a colour that I associate with you
4. Tell you something I like about you
5. Tell you my first/clearest memory of you
6. Tell you what animal you remind me of
7. Ask you something I’ve always wanted to ask you
Write exactly the same things for me, and it shall be done for you.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
The Definitive Guide to Caring for Drunk Friends - Part II
Finally, the CLIMAX of the entire Guide,
Phase 5. Extraction
As per every well planned operation, 6 questions need to be answered.
WHERE? Club to outside the club in the least amount of time. If you ask nicely, some clubs even have staff exits for you to move even faster. ASK.
WHAT? Unconscious friend. Now, some folks are gonna tell ya that they don't wanna be moved, or that they wanna stay and sleep. Now lemme ask you dear wonderful people. When was the last time a drunk person ever made sense? Yup. I thought so. There are times where diplomacy and democracy is NOT the way to go. The person with the loudest voice does not have the biggest vote.
WHO? The best case scenario, we are gonna need 2 people to carry, and 2 to clear the way. Don't have enough people? The bouncers/waiters will help. Trust me. They have better things to do that clean up puke.
WHEN? Half hour before, or 15 minutes after. You don't need a human rush hour to complicate things. If you want to hope, stay as long in the club as you want, and confirm that the person cannot extricate themselves under their own power. Me, if you're actually at this step, it's already a foregone conclusion.
HOW? Pay attention people. Here is where most people fudge it. If the extractee is a guy, and you're definitely gonna need 2 people to drag him out. If the extractee is a gal, all the more you're gonna need 2 people. And as I said, 2 people to clear the way. Anybody who have carried anybody out, knows that this is THE RIGHT WAY.
WHY? You question the master young Padawan? That is alright, I shall explain it to you, only once. Remember the lesson well. Whilst a gal is lighter, extracting a gal requires more.. tact than extracting a guy. Several things may go absolutely wrong, and even if you don't need backup, you need witnesses to prove that you had absolutely no intention of a) letting the entire club know the colour of their undergarments, and b) at no time did you allow your bestial nature to take over and put your paw where it was not specifically requested.
The MOVE
NOW, There are a few methods that I personally recommend. Of which, the HERO lift is NOT one of them.
Don't know what the hero lift is? Go watch any frigging movie. Yah. That way of carrying. It only looks good in the movies, but is completely useless when it comes to carrying the person out. If you really want to, make sure you get it right. It's one hand supporting the upper body across the back, and another at the knees. Oh and do not hold the shoulders. Under the armpit. NOW you know why I mentioned point b under WHY.
The best way to get any person out, are these.
1. The piggy back - Yes, even if it's a gal and wearing a skirt. Simply cos at least your body is blocking the view.
2. The fireman's lift - Yup, sling over the shoulder and move fast. Only disadvantage, is that the shoulder is pushing against the stomach. You might just find out exactly what the person was having for dinner.
3. The Crutch - One person on one side of the body, sling the hands over the shoulder, and pretend to be crutches for the drunk chap.
4. The Swing - One person carries the upper body, and another the lower. The advantage is that if done right, the person can still hold a plastic bag to his own lips.
And so, my friend's buddy who obviously has been working out lifted her using the hero lift. BUT the arms were wrong, and to make sure she's still alive after evacuation, I took over. And almost dropped her on my way out. Not cool. I now remind myself I am not Superman every single day. Her friend however came in to save the day.
I am convinced that my saviour is Super, or at least has been going to the gym a heck of a lot more than I have. (That is not hard. I have never willingly stepped into a gym in my life.)
Right, so there you have it. That's how it's done. Now the next time I'm drunk, Do. It. Right.
All that's left is attempting to convince the uncle in the cab to ferry your drunk friend back home. That dear friends, is another story for another day.
Monday, June 26, 2006
The Definitive Guide to - Caring for Drunk Friends
Having graduated from the School of Hard Drinking, Sole Luna, has got loads of advantages. Other than having accumulated a host of drunk stories of enough people to make me a very rich man, I too, have managed to refine the art of caring for the drunk to an artform.
Lemme give you a little background. Sole Luna was a small pub in Holland Village, now closed down. In its glory days, it had free-flow booze from 9pm to 1am on Thursday and Friday nights, every single week.
And unlike some of the wussy free-flows that clubs offer nowadays, Sole's bartenders were a credit to the alcohol community. These fine body of men and women subscribe to the "The faster I knock you out, the less you'd bother me" school of dishing out free-flows.
And as a result of that, there has never been a fight EVER in the years that that lovely, VERY friendly lil place has been in existance. Any troublemaker gets dragged to the bar and put out of commission in oh... half an hour by the nearest regular.
I am honoured to have been part of several takedowns over the years. 15 shots of tequila washed down by whiskey coke and beer is more effective than any burly security guard.
Enough about the good old days. As I said, this unique joint has given me the priviledge of honing the art of caring for drunks. Having been on both the giving AND recieving end over the years, here is everything you really need to know about those situations where you need to transport someone drunk from club to home.
Phase 1. Don't let the bugger drink too much in the first place!
Now drinking is fun. Getting the person drunk so he/she ends up doing weird and wonderful things, is fun. Getting your friend shit-faced, puking and a windmill of Mr. Murphy potential, is NOT fun. The line, of course, is thin, and crossing the line is wayyy too easy.
The rule is this. 3-5 shots of pure hard liquor every half hour. Multiply by 1.5 times for cocktail shooters. Oh, and vary as you see fit. If you're the planner of the party, you want to make sure that your guests are mostly high and happy. The party goes downhill when the puking starts. It's colourful, but not pretty.
When the person says, "I'm a weak drinker", space out the shots. DO NOT FORCE. The human is a lousy enough judge of how much alcohol one can take. We don't need additional instigation.
Take last Friday. Zouk, I was sick and shouldn't be out in the first place. In any case, I only drank 3 whiskeys on the rocks, and a glass of champagne FOR THE WHOLE NITE. For those of you who know me drinking, I was born 3 drinks down. That means to be normal, I need at least 3 drinks.
Phase 2. Dancing increases the rush.
This can be a good thing, and a bad thing. If there is enough leeway, the alcohol quickly fades after dancing it off. You will however experience a sudden spike of drunkedness before everything fades.
Advice, is to interspede dancing with drinking. That way, you should be able to guage the level of the people better.
On the same note, sitting down and drinking is seriously deceptive. Find an excuse to move your people around a bit for the booze to settle, before going for another round.
Yes, I can dance without alcohol. I dropped back down to my usual, abnormal sobriety after busting moves for 30 minutes in Phuture.
Phase 3. Setting up dams.
Right now the good part. So prevention failed. Now the cure. Wash the taste from the mouth, control the puking at its best. The sharp taste may even give the person enough sobriety to stumble out of the club.
That is, of course, IF the person is still in a state to actually drink some more. Trust me, most bartenders will give it to ya, IF you tell him that your friend is puking. Last thing he wants is to clean up.
Hot tea is even better, but not many places serve Teh-Oh at 3am in the morning. Even Zouk, famous for its anal "nothing goes in nothing comes out" rule will relax it enough for you to bring HOT tea in from the deli. So keep $3 cash with you, just in case.
Right I didn't need this on last Friday, but a friend of mine did. After initial resistance to hot tea, the bouncer grimly nodded me through after hearing the sad plight of my friend's excesses. Too bad she wasn't in any state to drink anything. With her friends around, I didn't feel it was polite to crank her head back and force hot tea into her, no matter how beneficial it might be.
Side note, Take anything that anyone who's drunk say with a pinch of salt. Even if they are pukey, and they're trying to resist, don't bother. It's gonna come out eventually. Getting tea or water in them actually helps. Puking clears the stomach of any excess alcohol. This is a GOOD THING.
Phase 4. Logistics for the move
What you REALLY need, is about 5 plastic bags, as much serviettes as you can lay your hands on, and oh, preferably 2 guys who know what they are doing.
Why? Cos a drunk person is typically unconscious. Unconscious people are HEAVY. Even the lightest gal would seem like a work out at the gym. And they're not cooperative in shifting themselves into ergonomic positions suitable for easy carrying.
Therefore, 2 guys. You'll see what I mean when we get to rule 5.
At that point, we had 3 guys, and 2 gals including me. Here's the plan. Get her up and moving and one of the gals will grab the car. Good plan. A little shoddy on the execution but... hey, all plans fall apart on the first encounter with the enemy.
The most important bit - Extraction deserves an entire post by itself... Akan Datang...
Lemme give you a little background. Sole Luna was a small pub in Holland Village, now closed down. In its glory days, it had free-flow booze from 9pm to 1am on Thursday and Friday nights, every single week.
And unlike some of the wussy free-flows that clubs offer nowadays, Sole's bartenders were a credit to the alcohol community. These fine body of men and women subscribe to the "The faster I knock you out, the less you'd bother me" school of dishing out free-flows.
And as a result of that, there has never been a fight EVER in the years that that lovely, VERY friendly lil place has been in existance. Any troublemaker gets dragged to the bar and put out of commission in oh... half an hour by the nearest regular.
I am honoured to have been part of several takedowns over the years. 15 shots of tequila washed down by whiskey coke and beer is more effective than any burly security guard.
Enough about the good old days. As I said, this unique joint has given me the priviledge of honing the art of caring for drunks. Having been on both the giving AND recieving end over the years, here is everything you really need to know about those situations where you need to transport someone drunk from club to home.
Phase 1. Don't let the bugger drink too much in the first place!
Now drinking is fun. Getting the person drunk so he/she ends up doing weird and wonderful things, is fun. Getting your friend shit-faced, puking and a windmill of Mr. Murphy potential, is NOT fun. The line, of course, is thin, and crossing the line is wayyy too easy.
The rule is this. 3-5 shots of pure hard liquor every half hour. Multiply by 1.5 times for cocktail shooters. Oh, and vary as you see fit. If you're the planner of the party, you want to make sure that your guests are mostly high and happy. The party goes downhill when the puking starts. It's colourful, but not pretty.
When the person says, "I'm a weak drinker", space out the shots. DO NOT FORCE. The human is a lousy enough judge of how much alcohol one can take. We don't need additional instigation.
Take last Friday. Zouk, I was sick and shouldn't be out in the first place. In any case, I only drank 3 whiskeys on the rocks, and a glass of champagne FOR THE WHOLE NITE. For those of you who know me drinking, I was born 3 drinks down. That means to be normal, I need at least 3 drinks.
Phase 2. Dancing increases the rush.
This can be a good thing, and a bad thing. If there is enough leeway, the alcohol quickly fades after dancing it off. You will however experience a sudden spike of drunkedness before everything fades.
Advice, is to interspede dancing with drinking. That way, you should be able to guage the level of the people better.
On the same note, sitting down and drinking is seriously deceptive. Find an excuse to move your people around a bit for the booze to settle, before going for another round.
Yes, I can dance without alcohol. I dropped back down to my usual, abnormal sobriety after busting moves for 30 minutes in Phuture.
Phase 3. Setting up dams.
Right now the good part. So prevention failed. Now the cure. Wash the taste from the mouth, control the puking at its best. The sharp taste may even give the person enough sobriety to stumble out of the club.
That is, of course, IF the person is still in a state to actually drink some more. Trust me, most bartenders will give it to ya, IF you tell him that your friend is puking. Last thing he wants is to clean up.
Hot tea is even better, but not many places serve Teh-Oh at 3am in the morning. Even Zouk, famous for its anal "nothing goes in nothing comes out" rule will relax it enough for you to bring HOT tea in from the deli. So keep $3 cash with you, just in case.
Right I didn't need this on last Friday, but a friend of mine did. After initial resistance to hot tea, the bouncer grimly nodded me through after hearing the sad plight of my friend's excesses. Too bad she wasn't in any state to drink anything. With her friends around, I didn't feel it was polite to crank her head back and force hot tea into her, no matter how beneficial it might be.
Side note, Take anything that anyone who's drunk say with a pinch of salt. Even if they are pukey, and they're trying to resist, don't bother. It's gonna come out eventually. Getting tea or water in them actually helps. Puking clears the stomach of any excess alcohol. This is a GOOD THING.
Phase 4. Logistics for the move
What you REALLY need, is about 5 plastic bags, as much serviettes as you can lay your hands on, and oh, preferably 2 guys who know what they are doing.
Why? Cos a drunk person is typically unconscious. Unconscious people are HEAVY. Even the lightest gal would seem like a work out at the gym. And they're not cooperative in shifting themselves into ergonomic positions suitable for easy carrying.
Therefore, 2 guys. You'll see what I mean when we get to rule 5.
At that point, we had 3 guys, and 2 gals including me. Here's the plan. Get her up and moving and one of the gals will grab the car. Good plan. A little shoddy on the execution but... hey, all plans fall apart on the first encounter with the enemy.
The most important bit - Extraction deserves an entire post by itself... Akan Datang...
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Lessons The Days Taught Me
It has been an educational weekend.
Yup, I have decided that each weekend, I gotta do something self improvement-ish. Or else I'm gonna feel that it's somewhat wasted.
This week has been a weekend of lessons.
Lesson 1 - I am ready for the Amazing Race. Really. Singapore-HK-Guangzhou-Singapore in less than 24 hours. AND still have time to get a bottle of Absolut Ruby Red.
Lesson 2 - Willpower really can kick a lot of ass. I actually managed to stay awake throughout the entire seminar last week and I didn't even have any kind of stimulant. The flip side is, that once the body's reserves are depleted, it'll take a long time to get it up again. Thank you Sasky for an emergency delivery of Redbull and coffee. I didn't drink the coffee (gives me the runs), but I did OD on Redbull when it came. Heh.
Lesson 3 - I need to work out. I know, I know. I have always said that dancing and running after buses constitute the whole of my exercise. But then apparently that's not always enough. In the good old days, I can tuck folks like her under one arm and stroll off. Now, the right arm is still twinging slightly from exertion.
Lesson 4 - Having a rather colourful past helps. For those of you who do have have my wealth of experience in getting smashed on a regular basis, AND have friends that do the same, I'll post some tips later on.
Lesson 5 - Everyone needs to go crazy at times. My mate and I went to an accessory shop and bought ourselves wigs and shades and paraded down Orchard Road. Seeing the grins on the faces of people makes us feel good to. I wonder, if that's the idea Hard Gay has. I think his afro wig is a heck of a lot more fun than my Taiwan Boy Band style one.
Lesson 6 - I found out how much integrity is worth. Something to the tune of S$2.5 million. Maybe a little more. But at least it's a start.
Lesson 7 - This is a reminder. I am now convinced that flu brings about more human suffering any disease ever in the face of the earth, and in history. The reason why it doesn't kill you, is so that it can inflict the misery upon you again and again. Bastards.
Hmm... now what am I gonna do next week? Maybe I'll organize a pre-party, WITHOUT a television screen showing soccer matches. How's that for a change? So, anyone wanna join me in NOT watching soccer?
Yup, I have decided that each weekend, I gotta do something self improvement-ish. Or else I'm gonna feel that it's somewhat wasted.
This week has been a weekend of lessons.
Lesson 1 - I am ready for the Amazing Race. Really. Singapore-HK-Guangzhou-Singapore in less than 24 hours. AND still have time to get a bottle of Absolut Ruby Red.
Lesson 2 - Willpower really can kick a lot of ass. I actually managed to stay awake throughout the entire seminar last week and I didn't even have any kind of stimulant. The flip side is, that once the body's reserves are depleted, it'll take a long time to get it up again. Thank you Sasky for an emergency delivery of Redbull and coffee. I didn't drink the coffee (gives me the runs), but I did OD on Redbull when it came. Heh.
Lesson 3 - I need to work out. I know, I know. I have always said that dancing and running after buses constitute the whole of my exercise. But then apparently that's not always enough. In the good old days, I can tuck folks like her under one arm and stroll off. Now, the right arm is still twinging slightly from exertion.
Lesson 4 - Having a rather colourful past helps. For those of you who do have have my wealth of experience in getting smashed on a regular basis, AND have friends that do the same, I'll post some tips later on.
Lesson 5 - Everyone needs to go crazy at times. My mate and I went to an accessory shop and bought ourselves wigs and shades and paraded down Orchard Road. Seeing the grins on the faces of people makes us feel good to. I wonder, if that's the idea Hard Gay has. I think his afro wig is a heck of a lot more fun than my Taiwan Boy Band style one.
Lesson 6 - I found out how much integrity is worth. Something to the tune of S$2.5 million. Maybe a little more. But at least it's a start.
Lesson 7 - This is a reminder. I am now convinced that flu brings about more human suffering any disease ever in the face of the earth, and in history. The reason why it doesn't kill you, is so that it can inflict the misery upon you again and again. Bastards.
Hmm... now what am I gonna do next week? Maybe I'll organize a pre-party, WITHOUT a television screen showing soccer matches. How's that for a change? So, anyone wanna join me in NOT watching soccer?
The Irony of Good Clothes
Is that good clothes should make the people that see you want to rip them right off. Heh... Another random thought courtesy of the blue butterflies of sleep deprivation.
Friday, June 23, 2006
True Strength
Watched Shaman King yesterday night.
"I think Yoh is strong in his own way. He is the same, wherever he goes." - Manta, after a fight.
Maybe that really IS strength , to always be true, under ALL circumstance.
I believe that happiness is fleeting. Joy, on the other hand, is not.
It is a perception, a view of the world, a conviction, to always see the best in everything and in everyone, regardless of the circumstance that surround them, and regardless of what happens to oneself.
The amazing things fast food and soda do to the body. Heh.
"I think Yoh is strong in his own way. He is the same, wherever he goes." - Manta, after a fight.
Maybe that really IS strength , to always be true, under ALL circumstance.
I believe that happiness is fleeting. Joy, on the other hand, is not.
It is a perception, a view of the world, a conviction, to always see the best in everything and in everyone, regardless of the circumstance that surround them, and regardless of what happens to oneself.
The amazing things fast food and soda do to the body. Heh.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Pay the Piper
I welcome anyone to pump stupid amounts of money to any of my bank account. I really don't mind a million bucks.
Failing that, click the Ad on the right, and I get money from Google.
Do it.
NOW.
You read, you click and Google pays me. It's a fantastic system! You increase your chance of getting carpel tunnel syndrome, I get money.
Time to squeeze some bucks from those over-rich buggers.
Failing that, click the Ad on the right, and I get money from Google.
Do it.
NOW.
You read, you click and Google pays me. It's a fantastic system! You increase your chance of getting carpel tunnel syndrome, I get money.
Time to squeeze some bucks from those over-rich buggers.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
A Flirt, and Proud of It
Now I have been ACCUSED of being a flirt for the longest time. And seriously, in the beginning I was actually rather distressed. A secondary school kid, trying his best to do good, saving his first kiss for the gal he will spend the rest of his life with. I was positively stressed out, about being called a flirt by my comrades.
Can't help it, can I? I love women, I want women, and I figured a little earlier on, that there were better ways in showing my interest in ways that goes above and beyond just panting, ogling, and pawing.
Some time in university, I heard the phrase,"Edmund, you're a flirt" one too many times, it doesn't help that many of my friends are gals, and I come from a course with a gal to guy ration of 2 to 1, and a major with a ration of 4 to 1.
And some time after the 2357th time I heard it, something profound hit me. I suddenly thought to myself, "Hey you know, maybe that's not such a bad thing."
Being a flirt essentially means, that you're attractive to the opposite sex. That you are conversant, friendly, open and interesting. That you actually appeal to many members of the opposite sex. And that you're comfortable enough with the attention to go along with it, and actually like it.
And moving on, I reckon that maybe everyone should have a little flirt in them. After all, what's life without a little excitement and danger? What's life without a little twist, and a tease? And you're there adding that little spark to the ladies.
HOW CAN THAT BE BAD? In fact, won't the same things that make me a good flirt help me out in other areas as well? Confidence, Charm, Articulation, Sensitivity, and being persuasive is absolutely BRILLIANT!
In fact, let's set out to be the best flirt I can be!
And so from that day forward, to the people that tell me I'm a flirt, I say, Why thank you very much for that compliment. Yes, I am. And I am trying to be a better one all the time.
Can't help it, can I? I love women, I want women, and I figured a little earlier on, that there were better ways in showing my interest in ways that goes above and beyond just panting, ogling, and pawing.
Some time in university, I heard the phrase,"Edmund, you're a flirt" one too many times, it doesn't help that many of my friends are gals, and I come from a course with a gal to guy ration of 2 to 1, and a major with a ration of 4 to 1.
And some time after the 2357th time I heard it, something profound hit me. I suddenly thought to myself, "Hey you know, maybe that's not such a bad thing."
Being a flirt essentially means, that you're attractive to the opposite sex. That you are conversant, friendly, open and interesting. That you actually appeal to many members of the opposite sex. And that you're comfortable enough with the attention to go along with it, and actually like it.
And moving on, I reckon that maybe everyone should have a little flirt in them. After all, what's life without a little excitement and danger? What's life without a little twist, and a tease? And you're there adding that little spark to the ladies.
HOW CAN THAT BE BAD? In fact, won't the same things that make me a good flirt help me out in other areas as well? Confidence, Charm, Articulation, Sensitivity, and being persuasive is absolutely BRILLIANT!
In fact, let's set out to be the best flirt I can be!
And so from that day forward, to the people that tell me I'm a flirt, I say, Why thank you very much for that compliment. Yes, I am. And I am trying to be a better one all the time.
A Sudden Thought
It is when you understand Death, that you can treasure Life.
Love life, but you can only LIVE life when you do not fear Death.
It does not matter if you won or lost a game, it is whether you have done your absolute best. In that, it is the winning over yourself, that is the true victory.
To the master of oneself, the world is but a poor competitor.
Enough ranting. This brain needs sleep. 5 days of sleep deprivation does weird things to one's head. Pretty pink elephants by the way.
Love life, but you can only LIVE life when you do not fear Death.
It does not matter if you won or lost a game, it is whether you have done your absolute best. In that, it is the winning over yourself, that is the true victory.
To the master of oneself, the world is but a poor competitor.
Enough ranting. This brain needs sleep. 5 days of sleep deprivation does weird things to one's head. Pretty pink elephants by the way.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
World Cup
Here's my latest thought.
I don't watch soccer. Period.
Love the World Cup though. All the boys with their eyes glued on the screens. All those lonely women... 'Nuff Said.
Now, a friend question MY manhood, because I don't watch soccer. Whoaa... don't even go there babe. I have more testosterone in me little finger that you have in your entire farking body.
But in reply to that, I ask the question. Eh... Real man chase skirts.. Gay men, chase balls. You have 22 men, chasing ONE ball. Just cos it's scarcity don't change the fact they are chasing farking balls right?
And the voyeurs that watch 22 men going after the BALL, well, I'm sure there's an unresolved streak somewhere.
Of course, you can deny it. Consider one of the greatest soccer player currently. David Beckham (And I quote Ali G.) Just because he shaves his head, wears a skirt (a sarong), and hangs out with Elton John don't make him gay, right? RIGHT?
But I am not ungrateful. Go forth, all you soccer-mad fools. I'm gonna have the kind of harvest that happens once every 4 years.
Thank you, Lord.
I don't watch soccer. Period.
Love the World Cup though. All the boys with their eyes glued on the screens. All those lonely women... 'Nuff Said.
Now, a friend question MY manhood, because I don't watch soccer. Whoaa... don't even go there babe. I have more testosterone in me little finger that you have in your entire farking body.
But in reply to that, I ask the question. Eh... Real man chase skirts.. Gay men, chase balls. You have 22 men, chasing ONE ball. Just cos it's scarcity don't change the fact they are chasing farking balls right?
And the voyeurs that watch 22 men going after the BALL, well, I'm sure there's an unresolved streak somewhere.
Of course, you can deny it. Consider one of the greatest soccer player currently. David Beckham (And I quote Ali G.) Just because he shaves his head, wears a skirt (a sarong), and hangs out with Elton John don't make him gay, right? RIGHT?
But I am not ungrateful. Go forth, all you soccer-mad fools. I'm gonna have the kind of harvest that happens once every 4 years.
Thank you, Lord.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
My Hidey Hole
In nearly every place that I have spent more than 1 year, I have found a place where I can be alone.
I haven't found one for my current office yet. Anyone have a place where you can be alone, and just watch the sunset around City Hall, or got a key to any of the skyscraper roof tops?
I haven't found one for my current office yet. Anyone have a place where you can be alone, and just watch the sunset around City Hall, or got a key to any of the skyscraper roof tops?
Break Up Season?
2 friends on seperate occasions tell me that their marriage is on the rocks.
Ouch.
There is a slight difference in the way they are handling it though. And it seems to be making all the difference.
In one, both the hubby and wife is committed to making the marriage work. It's not about me, or my needs, it's about US. They're getting counselling because well, frankly counselling is not something glamourous, but I think that the marriage is more important than even ego.
The other, well, the needs of the individual outweigh the commitments of the marriage.
Which is right? I don't think there is ever a right or wrong in this circumstance. Just personal decision, and then moving on after, the best way we know how. End of the day, there's just the words of Old Blue Eyes to accompany us to our graves,
And now, the end is near;And so I face the final curtain...
I've lived a life thats full.
I've traveled each and evry highway...
Regrets I have a few,
but then again, too few to mention...
To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
No, oh no not me,
I did it my way.
Ouch.
There is a slight difference in the way they are handling it though. And it seems to be making all the difference.
In one, both the hubby and wife is committed to making the marriage work. It's not about me, or my needs, it's about US. They're getting counselling because well, frankly counselling is not something glamourous, but I think that the marriage is more important than even ego.
The other, well, the needs of the individual outweigh the commitments of the marriage.
Which is right? I don't think there is ever a right or wrong in this circumstance. Just personal decision, and then moving on after, the best way we know how. End of the day, there's just the words of Old Blue Eyes to accompany us to our graves,
And now, the end is near;And so I face the final curtain...
I've lived a life thats full.
I've traveled each and evry highway...
Regrets I have a few,
but then again, too few to mention...
To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
No, oh no not me,
I did it my way.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The End of Reason
It was a half hour of insanity this morning at 5am. What brough it on? I don't know. Maybe it's the little boy in me that lost control and said "Mine! Mine! Mine!"
But I am decidedly single, and I'm staying that way, DAMMIT!
See Sasky, I was right. But it was a moment of weakness, possibly brought about by copious amounts of booze, and not enough sleep. It was a moment of weakness, but it is gonna be one, that I'm determined to let pass without incident.
Sentosa, later to meet the boys. Rock on!
But I am decidedly single, and I'm staying that way, DAMMIT!
See Sasky, I was right. But it was a moment of weakness, possibly brought about by copious amounts of booze, and not enough sleep. It was a moment of weakness, but it is gonna be one, that I'm determined to let pass without incident.
Sentosa, later to meet the boys. Rock on!
Friday, June 09, 2006
IRAS Did it. AGAIN.
My mug is hijacked. Again.
NOW, WHERE IS MY COMMISSION! Isn't it time to pay it forward, to your favourite poster boy... me?
NOW, WHERE IS MY COMMISSION! Isn't it time to pay it forward, to your favourite poster boy... me?
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Dancing
The Vertical Expression of Horizontal Desire, Enhanced LEGALISED by Music.
Damn... no wonder I love dancing. Thanks Yingling for the quote AND the correction!
Damn... no wonder I love dancing. Thanks Yingling for the quote AND the correction!
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Blast From the Past - II
This post is damn long in the making.
2 things spurred this on. A post from Sasky stirred a part of the memory banks I haven't accessed for a long time. Then a chance encounter with an ex just yesterday at the Funan Centre Food Court.
And I have kept the makings of this post in my head for near half a month. Damn...
Sasky's post reminded me of a gal I once knew, and though she wasn't the first gal I have ever loved, but she was significant in so many other ways.
2 things spurred this on. A post from Sasky stirred a part of the memory banks I haven't accessed for a long time. Then a chance encounter with an ex just yesterday at the Funan Centre Food Court.
And I have kept the makings of this post in my head for near half a month. Damn...
Sasky's post reminded me of a gal I once knew, and though she wasn't the first gal I have ever loved, but she was significant in so many other ways.
- She's the reason I first discovered Mambo.
- She's the first gal I have ever kissed.
- She's why "Summer Rain" by Belinda Carlisle would always be a special song to me.
- She is the first of very very few people that made me so pissed that I actually turned around, and walked away without saying anything.
- She was also the one that introduced me to the harsh realities that good boys very often don't win, and that women don't always say what they want. And what they do say what they want, they may not mean it.
- She also taught me, invariably, that breaking up is not the worst thing to do. Keeping someone on a yo-yo, as a safety net, is. As a result, I made myself a promise that I will never do the same thing to another person.
- No she never was, for even an instant, my girlfriend, though for the longest time, to me, there was nobody else but her.
Is it too personal to put up here? Maybe. My boys from me army days know all about her. Other than the usual army stories from old times, we do occasionally bring up old flames, and her name will invariably pop up.
I reckon it was a really painful period in life, but hey, with my thick skull, some lessons need to be hammered in with a big ass sledgehammer. In the aspect of relationships, I reckon there are very few hammers in my years on this earth, that has so much impact as a ponytail handled, foundation tinted one called Pat.
For me, each gal that I have loved, whether they became my gfs, or not, are special in a certain way. And I reckon that each one of them holds a piece of my heart. So yesterday in the food court, there was still a jolt, when I saw her.
Nah, I didn't call out to her, or acknowledge her. But it is good to see she's doing well, and that nothing much really changed. Same old purple funky glasses (or is it red?) and purple shawl. I wonder if she remembers that she's still holding onto my entire collection of dance CDs.
The funny thing is, even with these pieces given away, my heart is not any smaller, or any LESS than when it first begun. Different maybe, but definitely never any less.
Strange thing with the heart isn't it? Guess conservation of matter don't apply to EVERYTHING in the universe.
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