The (totally authentic) DVDs me and my friends bought in JB over the weekend just got delivered. Well, being the great friend that I am, I suppose I have no choice but to screen all my friends’ DVDs first (to see if there are any complications) before passing them on.

Well then, I have no doubts these DVDs will keep me awake for Chinese New Year’s eve.

I know there has been too much of a certain girl mentioned in my blog recently, and my friends have told me as much- they are getting kind of jealous, which is normal, as they cannot understand why a girl I do not know could have such a detrimental effect on my life. That said, their definition of my life is what they read from my blog. Well, there are certain things I don’t put on my blog, simply because they mean a lot to me and I do not wish to share with the rest of the world. I do not wish to quote names or give examples, so let’s just leave it as that.

I have been having some really late nights this week (read: it’s my birthday week), and I finally managed to sleep for more than seven hours last night. And later tonight, after a two days’ break, I am going to have a thorough workout and some serious jogging in preparation for my IPPT this Wednesday, and I frankly, do not foresee any problem.

My birthday this year has been pretty interesting, because two groups of friends who have never celebrated m birthday with me before in my entire life did so with me over the weekend. I am not someone big on birthdays, as I do not believe people should not remember you for the day you were born, but rather, the day you achieve greatness. Okay, that’s a load of bull, but seriously, to me, birthdays are just another day. So, personally, I would rather have a quiet meal with different group of friends individually and catch up on life and reminiscence of the good, old times. I do not really like gifts (bags, wallets, shirts etc), as I am one who prefer to buy my own stuff. Say, if I have this wallet, and it’s still useable, I would be reluctant to dump it even if you buy me a brand new one. That’s just me- if it’s ain’t broken, it ain’t need fixing. That is why I prefer a meal- we all share the same taste on good food, and I would not be bugged with questions like “why you never use the wallet I buy for you?”. And to all those who remember my birthdays (Facebook, Friendster, SMS, in person), thank you very much- I will certainly return the favour when your birthday comes.

Anyway, I caught a few movies this week (in the cinemas, via streaming and on DVD), so let’s start with ‘Rambo IV’. It is must definitely a guy’s film. It is all machines guns and blood, and well, once in a while, it’s good to just relax, give your brain cells a break and watch such films with few lines and zero plot. I also caught ‘27 Dresses’, and it is wonderful movie for couples (but sadly, I watched it alone at on my laptop). Maybe I am a bit like the main character in the film- I am too blinded by a certain ‘dream girl’ to notice that there are actually other girls around me as well. Maybe there are. I think there are. I’m sure there are (-_-). And oh, ‘Cloverfield’ is frankly a waste of time. The only refreshing element is that it is different from most commercial films as it is shot and shown from a handheld digital camera. Other than that, it’s all sh*t- the effect is way too shaky (to the extent people actually vomited while watching the film) and it doesn’t have much of an ending. Why should I be surprised anyway? After all, ‘Cloverfield’ is produced by one of the ‘LOST’ people, and we all know the plot in ‘LOST’ has as many holes in it as the Liverpool defence had on Saturday night.

And lastly, I watched ‘The Myth’. Yes, that lame Jackie Chan film shot with that Korean lady. It’s a long story, but I bought the DVD years ago, and I chanced upon it while doing my spring cleaning, and the Korean lady on the cover reminded me of someone (you know who), hence, I decided to donate two hours of my life to the film. Plus, I totally loved the Korean lady’s voice in the theme song from the soundtrack, so I figured I should check out her acting as well. As it turns out, she is just a vase in the film (a very, very beautiful vase) with the role of a princess. Overall, it’s a crap movie, and I realised the Korean actress is definitely more attractive than the girl who resembles her, yet I still prefer the latter. Well, I can now conclude that she is nothing but a myth.

So, that will be all for this entry. By the way, there isn’t any mention of a certain Miss *, is there? Well then, a breath of fresh air altogether.

“Then I found work and realised that there were plenty of overworked and underpaid people (no, not ministers). It was tough, it was tiring but in the end it made me a better person. To me, money is a very strong motivation. You see, people in my situation do not have the right to pursue what we want (not that I know what I want anyway). If a person's financial status is very stable, nothing will stop him from say, starting a business with plenty of capital and earning even more in the process. Even if he fails, it's okay because his parents grow money trees. Which links to my theory that the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer (unless God loves you and you strike the $10 million Toto jackpot). Now to get from poor to semi-rich, you gotta do something like work hard and get into a university, enrol into a course you don't really like but promises a stable income, and pray that by the time you graduate, there's a job waiting for you, which is what I'm doing right now.

Isn't engineering my interest? You say. Yes, but to be precise, no. While it's true that I have a deep interest in mechanical stuff, or more specifically cars, I never have any interest in the stuff that comes packaged together in engineering, like maths, thermodynamics, electronics, and so forth. I don't really need a degree to dabble into the automotive industry, but as our family don't grow money, I really need a good job in the future, and for that, I need a degree. Not true? This is Singapore. Get real. And as long as that potential for a good paying job is still there, it is enough motivation to keep me going.”

I ripped this two paragraphs from one of my friend’s blog entry (he is an engineering undergraduate, obviously), as I find it totally spot on what I feel, coming from a working-class family and all.

What hurts the most

Is being so close

And having so much to say

And watching you walk away

And never knowing

What could have been

And not seeing that loving you

Is what I was trying to do

  ~

http://8.mediacorptv.sg/heygorgeous/babe.php?uid=1185

I don’t know why, but it seems like she is the only person in the world who can make me happy and sad at the same time. When I see her, she puts a smile on my face. When I think of her, she simply cuts my heart up.

Tuesday morning, worst morning of the week. I have to be in school by 8.30am, and I have to take the two buses, as a matter of fact) to school. I hate taking buses in the morning for two reasons- one, I don’t really like crowded places, and two, the roads are always jammed and the journey often takes a much longer time. Anyway, I prefer to stand on the bus, as it allows me to alight more easily, plus I am going to spend the next three hours of my life sitting down in a comfortable air-conditioned environment, so what is standing for a mere forty-five minutes. And when I stand, I usually make sure I am facing the right, as the bus uses the left land most of the time, this would enable me to look out of the window, as cars stop in front of me as traffic slows to a crawl along Bukit Timah Road during the morning peak hour. At times, I do observe pretty interesting things, but most of the times I would try to see who’s the pretty office lady behind the wheels of that gold 350z.

Now, you will ask why don’t I observe the pretty little polytechnics and junior colleges girls on my bus. Well, for starters, I prefer older girls. And most of the older girls on the bus are from my school, and as avid readers of my blog will know, I only look at ONE girl from my school, and THAT girl does not share the same buses to school as me. I mean, all the other girls can look at me all they want, but there is only ONE girl whom I will look at.

So, last Tuesday, I repeated my weekly routine. I was nearing my school, so I was preparing to remove my earphones and take out my Ez-link card. I looked out of the window, and I saw this Gold Honda next to my bus, and there was this girl in the back seat with flowing long hair just like Miss Y (read: the ONLY girl from my school I enjoy looking at). And guess what? Yes, it WAS Miss Y. And coincidentally (yeah right, coincidental my ass), she was also looking out of her window and she saw me (unless it was parallax error and she was looking at the Indian Aunty beside me), but I bet my life there was no way she was looking at anyone else other than yours truly. Well, I could not believe what Cupid was actually trying to do, and I almost wanted to smile (at my luck). Seriously, f*ck me, but do you believe in fate? I don’t even have to do anything, and she appeared right in front of my eyes- what are the odds, you tell me. F*ck. I’m falling deep- I can feel it. Somebody help me. Please.

And yes, we shared the same class for the next three hours, and I simply could not help myself and kept looking at her. And for the first time, I caught her falling asleep in class, and that has to be the most beautiful sight I have ever seen in SIM. That face, I mean, I can look at her all day and still not get tired of it. It’s not the most beautiful or cutest face or anything you and I have not seen, but there is just something about her that keeps me coming back for more. It’s just…love.

Well, if it wasn’t love, it was a lot like it.

I was called up by the great Singapore Armed Forces yesterday afternoon. Anyway, I kind of expected it- I got a call at ten in the morning informing me there would most likely be a mobilisation. So imagine my surprise when the call came- I almost wanted to call back and asked the guy on the line (aka some prophet sitting in a temple, I suppose) if he knew how many goals Manchester United FC was going to put pass Reading FC that particular night. Anyway, I was already halfway through preparing my stuff, and getting all excited about going back to camp. It was the first time I have put on my Number 4 and felt my lush, red hair on my collar- seriously, I didnt feel like much of a soldier. Anyway, MM sent me there, and to quote him, it would just be a ‘sign name and go’ type of mobilisation. And he could not have been more wrong.

Whatever good vibe I had about donning green again and meeting up with my old mates disappeared approximately half an hour upon reaching the camp. The old feelings just started creeping back- SAF is merely a dumping ground for those with not enough education or those educated ball-less dicks who dare not make a career for themselves out in the dog-eat-dog cooperate world. And oh, not forgetting the 0.01% who did it out of passion- I will call you passionate if you still insist on joining the army when I say I’ll pay you five hundred bucks a month and order you to wash toilets before night-outs and burn your weekends twice a month doing guard duty for the your entire career (read: thirty odd years). How’s that for passion, suckers?

Frankly, SAF is a bloody waste of time. I sat in the car park for seven (yes, f*cking seven) hours thinking about how many goals Manchester United FC was going to score against Reading FC and actually contemplated betting 6-0 at Singapore pools. And while I was busy guessing the final score, all I could see were SAF regulars with some stupid piece of cloth on their shoulders barking orders to Ah Bengs (with even longer hair than yours truly), and generally working their mouths so damn hard to justify their seven hours’ worth of pay. I tell you, if SAF were a private cooperation, it would have been bankrupt after six months (or less). The only reason it is sustainable is because of the ‘tee’ sound you hear every morning when you pass one of a hundred ERP gantries on the roads, or the 7% you see at the bottom of each and every receipt. Yes, we the citizens of Singapore pay taxes and shit to enable the army to waste two years of our sons’ bright future doing nothing of real importance. They might as well send us all to Iraq to look for ‘Weapons of Mass Destruction’- at least we can learn something useful there, like say, shooting someone in the head or something.

So, for those seven meaningless hours, I kept thinking about what I want to put down in my blog in an attempt to vent my frustration. And I am still seething as I sit here thinking about it- that is how bloody pissed I am. Next time I receive a call-up, I’m going to first take a nap, have lunch, pack a week’s worth of newspapers and a ton of snacks and then report for duty. Mark my words.

Okay, on a brighter note, Michael Scofield is back- it’s been two months already? Damn, time flies. It only seems like yesterday when I complained about Prison Break taking a two-month break, and now, it’s here once again. Plus Wentworth Miller still looks as hot as ever- well, he should be, in long sleeves under the Panama sun is pure suicidal. Anyway, watching Prison Break reminds me of (my favourite serial) Heroes and when it is actually going to return to our screens (my laptop screen, to be more precise).

Speaking of time flying, I feel really old. You know when you are younger, and the footballers you worship are all much older than you. From Ronaldo (the fat one) to Kaka to now, Pato- I really am very old. That kid is only seventeen- all six years younger than me! And he is playing for AC Milan. What can I say? Well, I have been playing some soccer myself. It seems like FICO is now officially a thing of the past, and I have been visiting The Cage with Les, Ben and company for the past few Fridays. It’s the same- it’s only soccer. But I suppose I have to try harder to keep my temper in check- I admit, there are moments in the game when the red mist descend on me and all I want to do is dive in two-footed into that motherf*cker’s shins and hopefully retire him from the game. But this only happens like once or twice a week, unlike Joey Barton, which happens every other hour. So, I guess I am still fine.

And oh, I am old- literally speaking. My birthday is coming soon, and for those three of you who owe me presents, you know what to do. As for the rest of you, a simple sms/call/meal will suffice- I am not one big on birthday celebrations. To me, it is just another day, a day I was born. I rather celebrate the day Manchester United FC wins the treble this coming May. Trust me, it is not beyond us. And even if we don’t win anything, at least I can still proudly say we don’t have Dirk Kuyt running around in the red jersey of ours.

And yes, my exams will be in May too. School sucks, and seriously, I am going to get f*cked in the ass when the exams come. And speaking of school, I need to mention a special someone who totally justify my seven-thousand-dollars a year school fee- Miss Y. How can an entry ever be complete without mentioning my little one-sided love story with her? Well, the fact remains that I just simply cannot live without her.

You see, we both had different classes last Thursday, but somehow, Cupid worked his magic and made us run into each other. During our break, Shrek and I proceeded to the ATM to withdraw some cash, and after that, on our way back, we saw her. Actually, only I did (as Shrek was busy checking some other chick), but there she was (ala the first time Jack saw Rose on the decks of Titanic). She didn’t see me at first as she was with her friend, and I think she was accompanying her friend to sign up for the Badminton Club or something. If she has been the one signing up, you can pretty much bet your entire fortune on me playing Badminton for SIM for the next three years of my life. Well, she wasn’t and so, she looked up and our eyes met. God, I swear time stopped for that moment. She didn’t smile, but neither did she frown/wink/lick her lips. And the thing is she actually looked back at me in the eyes, instead of looking away out of shyness or ‘dao-ness’. But the way she looked at me with those eyes, it’s enough for me- I cannot ask for anything more. Moments like these really make me feel seven thousand dollars is money well spent.

All right, I know she is just a crush, and nothing more. She is just a face (a face I have been seeing twice a week for the pass four months) and nothing more. But I am amazed by the amount of feelings I actually hold for her. Believe it or not, seeing her can actually put a smile on my face. I still don’t know why I am falling so deeply for her, but I simply don’t care anymore. I suppose it is just all the magic of love, isn’t it?

She is the one and only one who made me believe in love at first sight.

I actually have a list of things to blog about tonight, but after the just-concluded MSN conversation with HL, I am going to push all that to one side and take you on a trip to the past with me. I know, from the sounds of it, it’s going to be another one of those emotional entries. Well, it is. So, sue me.

See, I was giving HL the links to Miss Y’s Facebook and Friendster (for once, Miss Y is not going to be the focal point of my entry), and then one thing led to another, and we started talking about the past. My past actually, to be more specific. Just for those in the dark, HL was SY’s best friend in JJC, and I was SY’s boyfriend in JJC and SY was a big part of my education (in the game of love) in JJC. You see, of all the people in the world, there are only two people whom I can speak to about my relationship with SY- one is HL, the other is SY (SY blocked me on MSN- it kind of says everything, doesn’t it?).

For the record, I want to state that I am not using this entry to prove my point or reopen any old wounds. I just want to get certain things off my chest, and perhaps, a part of me wishes SY reads this and maybe understand why I did what I did. It’s going to be pretty long, but I hope this will be the last time I have to bring SY up in my blog.

SY and I had a pretty interesting thirteen months together (she was my first, and looking back, my one and only serious relationship), and at the end of it, I left her for BY (it’s another story for another day, my friend). We had our fair share of fun, joy, love, sorrow and pain together, but there were reasons why I left her, and it had absolutely nothing to do with BY. SY is born with a sliver spoon, so, everything SY wants, SY gets. She’s very much loved and pampered by her family. And at first, I didn’t see all of this clearly enough.

People change, of this you and I should have no doubt. And it was only after a few months (the honeymoon period, the puppy-love, the whatever horseshit you want to call it) when I saw the girl I loved changed into someone else right before my eyes. Well, did I change? That you have to ask her. As for her, everything changed. The care and concern for me remained, but the ‘worship me’ attitude started to emerge. See, people who know me know I only worship one person, and that’s David Beckham. And frankly, SY wasn’t even close to being in his league. Like all good boyfriends, I tried to adapt to her change.

And like all good love stories, it never last. We started arguing and all, and she would morph into her “you last time also tolerate me, why now you change?” and “last time you will say sorry first, now why cannot?” before breaking down into a pool of tears. I admit I was kind of softhearted and all, so I apologised and made silly promises, and then we kissed and made up. I felt that she assumed that was the end of it, and tomorrow will be another day, but I think I am speaking for the rest of the guys when I say, little things like these do add up. It may be a tiny problem, but if it’s never resolved and we simply chose to look the other way, chances are the problem remains. So, it kinds of all pile up, and then it finally happened.

No, it’s not the breakup, it’s the first time you ask yourself- what are you going through all this for? I looked at SY, and I asked myself where has the girl I loved with all my heart disappeared to. I could no longer see where this relationship was going to take me, and honestly, when anyone of you ever reaches this stage, it’s all going downhill, I tell you. I just cannot see a future for us- who in the right mind wants to be bullied and taken for granted for the rest of their lives? Certainly not me.

Sometimes, all a guy need is not a lot. For me, all I needed at that point in time was some understanding from her. Does she know there was only so much I could take? Does she know there were only so many times I could put my dignity aside and apologise? Does she know I really wanted to make it work? Does she know I cannot do it alone? Does she know I am only human? Does she know I wanted some understanding and not just another kiss?

Of course, the breakup did not happen instantly- it was more of a gradual thing. I still did the things I always did, I still tried to tolerate her the way I have been doing for the pass year, but slowly, the love is dying inside. After a period of time together, you start doing things out of habit, and not love, you know what I mean? I carried her stuff for her out of habit. I waited for her after school out of habit. I said sorry when she cried out of habit. The love was no longer there. And then came the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Frankly, I forgot what happened, and all I know it was something really insignificant. But the point here is, I left her for what had been happening for the past nine or ten odd months, and not for what actually happened that day we had our quarrel and broke up. It all added up and well, there was only so much I could take. I simply made my mind up and walked away, and I never looked back. And I suppose having BY by my side did kind of help things, but that was really beside the point.

So, five years on, and here I am alone, and neither SY nor BY is on talking terms with me. You know, sometimes, I really just want to see SY, say a simple hello, and ask how she is doing. I mean, I am not looking to get back together or anything, but to me, we once shared our lives together, so whatever happens, it has got to mean something. I don’t know about her, but she was a very important part of my life. And she actually meant something to me, much more than she thinks.

I feel our relationship is not as simple as I was a bastard, I fell for another girl, we broke up, and she still curses me every night before she sleeps kind of thing. I would like to think it is more than that. I have learnt from the relationship and grew up from it, and certain things I have learnt will be with me for the rest of my life. She taught me that the things which make a relationship work is much more than a goodbye hug or a thousand smses a month (Ong Bak take note) or a million apologies. For that, I have to thank her. She made me a better boyfriend, but sadly, only my future girlfriend(s) will get to enjoy that.

As I am now thinking of her and putting the finishing touches to my entry, I hope somewhere else under this beautiful night sky, she is fine, and she will eventually find someone more deserving of her.

Let me go, and you will find someone.

here I go

so dishonestly

leave a note

for you my only one

and I know

you can see right through me

so let me go

and you will find someone

We are right where we rightfully belong- top of the table, looking down on the

19 teams below us. Most goals scored (44) and least goals conceded (11). And I

am already on 22 goals for the season. It feels good, and I cannot ask for more.

You know there are moments when you make a decision and life flashes you by? And after a while, you come to regret your decisions? I had a such a moment today when taking my IPPT. You see, I was taking my test and everything was going smoothly and I was on course for my silver grade, until I did my sit-ups. I always thought it was going to be a piece of cake, so I prioritised my training to enhance my running and my pull-ups only. And well, I badly screwed it up. Badly. I did twenty-nine sit-ups in one f*cking minute- that works out to be less than one every two seconds. Anyway, the good news is I achieved my expected results for the rest of my stations. My next test is next Wednesday with Ayu, so I am fairly confident that I can do something about my sit-ups in these seven days- I only need five more to get silver. Plus I read that having sex in the missionary position works the abdomen muscles. So, you should know what I would be up to these seven eventful days (and nights).

Anyway, on a different note altogether, I have to say the majority of Singaporean men are totally unfit, and they don’t give a shit about it. If you cannot even do one pull-up, or you start walking thirty seconds into your run, it makes me believe that it’s not because they are unable to pass, it’s because they don’t bother to pass. It’s a pure lack of effort- no wonder Singaporean women always complain about how lousy in bed we are. Who can blame them? They go to the end of the world to look good for us- botox, plastic surgery, nice clothes and they even try to regain their figure after giving birth. And in return, all we do is have a beer every weekend while watching EPL. I know physical fitness is a personal thing, but I just want to say I am thoroughly ashamed of those guys I saw today who didn’t bother to do anything about their physical well-being, and my apologies to all ladies out there whose boyfriend/husband/lover is fatter than Fat Frank and has worse stamina than you in bed. I’m truly sorry- please allow me to make it up to you (I’m free 24-7).

Another thing I noticed while doing my 2.4 kilometres run- my hair is starting to piss me off again. It’s at the half f*uck length- too short to tie and too long to gel. I will be going for a haircut soon, unless I change my mind and decide to keep it long ala Takeshi Kaneshiro. It’s been two months since my last haircut with Eileen, and I tell you, time flies. I remember keeping my hair bands and all after visiting the hairdresser that day, and two months on, I’m taking them out once again. Times bloody flies- I am going to be twenty-three, mid-twenties, and I am still single and schooling. I’m f*cked.

And yesterday, I went JB with JJ, JT and honey, before meeting up with MM there. Well, it was like a mini class excursion, only that it came ten years too late. Well, I really had a lot of fun with them- they are the ones whom I can truly be myself with. We walked around City Square, had a body massage and sauna session, went to MM’s gigantic fish farm, had some bowling before having a seafood supper. A very eventful day, and it all began with out visit to the massage parlor.

We chanced upon it while walking along the streets, and after much discussion, we decided to give it a try. It was sleazy, to say the least. As a few of you ladies already know, I am rather sensitive to touch, so I had a pretty hard time trying to contain my laughter. Plus the lady who massaged me was old enough to be my grandmother. Well, I had a great time chatting with her while she tried her best to tickle me to death. I ended my session way before the stipulated one-hour period, and headed straight for the sauna. The funny thing was, both MM and JJ were approached by their respective massage aunties to give them a hand-job. The way JJ gave his account of what happened was absolutely hilarious, but I am afraid it was a tad too R21 for me to type it all down.

We then headed for MM’s fish farm, and I tell you, it is super huge! I estimate it to be as large as at least five football fields - and I am not kidding. It is impossible to walk around the place- you have to drive. And they are at least a hundred tanks holding all sorts of fish, and more than thirty workers working shifts maintaining the farm. If one day MM chooses to sell the plot of land, he would be an instant multi-millionaire. And I will be his best friend. And you all can be my best friends.

We went bowling after that and after a slow start, it turned out I had some ‘Remy Ong’ in my blood. I totally bowled the shit out of the four of them, but then again, I have to admit it was more luck than skill. Like I’ve said, I am better at contact sports- I am the next Joey Barton. Watch this space. After bowling, we had supper at the JB market, and it was there where I managed to totally piss JT off. Those who know JT personally will know she is not the most well endowed girl you will ever see, so guys being guys, there were references of her chest to runways and bowling lands. And it didn’t exactly make her smile.

Wait, just let me put it on record that JT was actually quite sick yesterday, but she still made the trip with us (she most probably missed seeing me and all). And so, over supper, my joke hurt her rather deeply and she became pretty upset the rest of the time (told you I meant the world to her, if not my words would not have stung her heart so severely). Okay, I am guilty, and I am fully appreciative of the fact that she stuck around with us all the way, when I know a more pampered girl would have bitched about going home the whole time. But JT being JT, she roughed it out and even managed to beat Honey at bowling! Admirable I have to say. Alright, I shall stop saying nice things about JT, or you over-sensitive people will start saying she is my new Miss Y.

Wait, the point here is this- I feel at times, I am not sensitive enough to girls’ feelings. I mean, I cannot even handle a female friend, how am I suppose to handle a girlfriend, you tell me? I personally feel I am still a boy at heart, regardless of the way I look. There are certain things I feel I still lack. I am still too playful and not serious enough. I am good at flirting, but I am not good at taking care of someone else. I am not responsible enough. My EQ is still too low. I love soccer too much. I feel better scoring a goal than making out with a girl. I prefer to watch movies alone on my laptop. I don’t know if I love the girl I love. My past still haunts me. I need time (if time is the answer).

So, once again thanks to JT, I realise that singlehood still suits me best (for the time being) at the end of the day. Therefore, I take back all I have said about being ready for someone else in my life, and I shall strive to achieve my 2008 resolution number one before talking about being someone else’s other half. So, to The One Girl who I have yet to meet or may have already met, please, spare me some time.

I am simply not ready yet.

I had supper with them (read: XP, Les, Ben, Ong Bak) till four in the morning on Friday night. Yes, four! And it could have been worse- Les was doing his best to brainwash us to watch ‘Alien versus Predator II’ at Cineleisure with him after that. Movie at five in the morning? What can I say? Anyway, it all started with FICO being cancelled.

It’s the second consecutive Friday that it’s been called off due to lack of players (well, it’s the first time in my blog I am using this word in the context of a soccer player) – so you can imagine my huge disappointment. Therefore, to make up for our loss, Les suggested some “team-bonding” session, or more precisely, supper at Al-Azhar. I fetch those lazy asses at twelve and we started our weekly discussion on all the happenings in the world of football (read: Ronaldo is God, Arsenal suck and Liverpool is still shit). Then, they decided to play pool and I was a spectator (for your information, I only play sports that involve contact, if you don’t already know). So, I tried my best to keep myself occupied, by stirring their shit of course.

Anyway, we started on the topic of marriage- out of the five of us, we all agreed that Ong Bak is the most likely to get married first. Why? Because he is the only one most likely to have a kid first. Why? What why? You all should know why (if you don’t know how kids are made, then give me a call, and I shall enlighten you, personally). When asked when he was going to marry his girl, Ong Bak gave a shocker- he doesn’t know if he will marry her. Okay, let me elaborate why I was shocked- firstly, Ong Bak is no player (he does not possess the necessary looks and attitude). Secondly, he loves his girl crazily (he sent her messages like every fifteen minutes when having supper and while playing pool- amazing). Thirdly, we are all now almost in our mid-twenties, and we are not getting any younger, so in my opinion, my next relationship will most probably be my last, you know what I mean? And of course, I feel the ultimate goal of any relationship has to be marriage, no?

Like, don’t tell me you play soccer just to feel the way your studs brush against the soft green grass; of course, we all play to score a goal and hopefully go on and win the game (and maybe break a few shins along the way). So, what is the point of a relationship if it’s not for marriage? Someone to watch movie with? Someone to give roses to on Valentine’s Day? Someone who provide (free) physical satisfaction? I know there are people who just want to enjoy the company without any future commitments, but then again, I believe the one you are most likely to marry has to be the one whose hands you are holding right now. This is a pretty subjective matter, and it is all from the way I see it. Then again, what do I know about relationship? I’m single after all.

Saturday was spent rotting at home, and doing some spring-cleaning of my room. I spent the night chatting away with JT (who else?) on MSN, and it set me thinking- what do I really actually want? Do I want to find a girl and go through all those pain and suffering all over again? Or do I want to keep things the way they are and enjoy the life I am afforded right now? Answers on a postcard, please.

I met up with them again for Sunday soccer at Ong Bak’s place (the first in a long, long time). And I had no idea I was going to spend more than four hours under the sun kicking and chasing a bloody ball (I very nearly died on the court). But we won the lot of our games, so, it was all worth it in the end. I reached home only at four, after spending another two hours having lunch with them (I’m single, I have tons of time for my friends, you have a problem?). My parents went for some wedding dinner, so I drove my two sisters out for dinner at Tamah Jurong (it was nostalgic being back in that place after such a long time). After that, we walked around Jurong Point, and I tell you, they should rename it Immigrant Point or something.

I admit I haven’t been there in quite a while, but it’s totally unlike anything I remembered the place to be. I tell you, every five steps I took, one China/India international passed me. It’s not like I have anything against them, but I just absolutely hate people without any form of etiquette or manners. The NTUC outlet was worse- you can see five six of them crowding in the middle of the way, chatting in their native dialect while scratching their balls at the same time. And the queues at the cashiers were unbelievable- they bought food like they are going to war for a year or something, and they in fact smelt like they have just been through a yearlong war. It’s like a mini China/India National Day or something was happening right there in the supermarket. All I wanted to purchase was a bottle of salad herbs, and it took me a good ten minutes to find it, and another ten to pay for it. You can imagine the joy I was in when I finally left the place. Anyway, I went to Jurong Point (worst mistake of 2008, by a mile) because I wanted to get the mass-gainer from Nature’s Farm. This is my last option- if I still cannot put on weight, I guess I will have to wait for the day I get pregnant.

And so, finally, today, Monday- I crashed the Statistics class, as I am going to JB later on my with SVPS mates. Going into a new lecture, seeing the different girls, it all only reaffirmed my belief that there is no way (absolutely no way in hell) that I am going to die single. Girls totally outnumber guys- and I tell you, pretty girls are everywhere, but good-looking guys (like yours truly over here) are bloody hard to find. I’m serious- ask your girlfriends, or you can simply just take a good look around. Let’s just say I would prefer my next girl to be a head-turner. No, I am not looking for a bimbo, but try to understand my pain when my friends say all my ex’s faces had multiple head-on collisions with Airbus A380 (Miss Y included). So, you can imagine I would most definitely love them to eat their words.

Anyway, I wasn’t in the best of moods today- my body was totally aching, my limbs were super sore, my face showing initial signs of sunburnt and I was still tired after more than ten hours of sleep. All thanks to the crazy idea of playing soccer under the midday sun. Plus there were these two b*tches in class who were busy bragging to each other what they did with their respective boyfriends (different class, same b*tches). Of course, me being me, I had to do something. They were seated directly in front of me, so every time they turned to each other and opened their b*tchy little mouths, I looked at them straight in the eyes. You know, the type of Ah Beng face I am most famous for? I would not have imagined it to happen in my wildest dream, but it actually did- they stopped talking for a while, and then turned towards me and actually smiled at me. F*ck! What the hell made you like I am the least bit interested in you? Did I smile at you (sorry, you are not Miss Y)? Did I wink at you (sorry, I know I am not Ronaldo, but you are no Rooney either)? Did I lick my lips at you (sorry, this is not the dance floor at Phuture, okay)? Wake up and shut the hell up, you cobbler’s thumbs! Bloody hell…

It hasn’t been a really good week to start 2008 with. But I’m sure this week would be much better- staring with tomorrow.

Goodnight, my angels.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

You are attracted to those who have a split personality - cold as ice on the outside but hot as fire in the heart.

In love, you feel the most alive when things are straightforward, and you're told that you're loved.

You'd like to your lover to think you are loyal and faithful... that you'll never change.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance.

Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage pessimistically. You don't think happy marriages exist anymore.

In this moment, you think of love as something you thirst for. You'll do anything for love, but you won't fall for it easily.

*For the record, the last sentence is spot on.