I’ve decided to stop blogging altogether. To all past and present readers, thank you for taking the time to visit my blog!

Been about a week since the single most traumatic incident ( as far as I remember) which ever happened to me occured. I’m not going to talk about it. But really, if that were to happen in the real world, I would be soooo F-I-R-E-D. (Damn it, I wish they could fire me!)

It’s been more than a month since I’ve blogged. There’s a very good reason for that. The last time I filed an entry, my internet got disconnected, and yea, I think I lost about an hour worth of words. My connection is so unstable to the extent that every time I blog, I have to copy my post to my clipboard, just in case when I click publish, I get d/ced. Turns out that the one time I didn’t do that, it happened.

My sporadic internet connection, is, mildly put, extremely frustrating. One week it’s fine and the next week, you can forgot about using the internet AT ALL. ( It’s fine today, whopee. ) It’s kinda causing me to be disconnected from the world. The only solution I’ve got is a USB broadband stick, which, is really not a long term solution. Technical support from Singnet?  ARGH. FORGET IT.

Girl: ” I wanna find a job … I think I’ll buy a copy of the New Paper “

Me: ” Why not buy The Straits Times ? There’s the Recruit section”

Girl: ” [ Whining ] HARRRH?? But it’s so heavy and thick…. “

I’m not going to say who/what/when. Just one of those things that make me laugh.

I spend most Saturdays at home pretty much lazing around doing nothing productive ( save for lessons and the occasional outing ). But last Saturday was different. I was pretty much lazing around doing nothing productive. Not at home though. I was pretty much lazing around doing nothing productive in a guardhouse somewhere in Singapore.

So guard duty is what girlfriends everywhere abhor. Spending weekends apart from their precious boyfriends. The not so combat fit version of it is well, counter duty. Counter duty is guard duty sans the bulky LBV, heavy rifle, standing up, and oh yea, air con too.

At the end of my 24 hour counter duty , I started to think to myself. ” Gee, I’m a pretty horrible person.”

Counter Duty starts off with me arriving 10 minutes late. ( I hate being late ) My 2 fellow counter duty personnel have already arrived. Let’s call them A and B. B is reading a book. ( He continues to do so for pretty much the rest of the 24 hours )

A on the other hand, is reading a newspaper. I whip out my magazine ( T3 ) . B leaves the guardhouse for a while. The thought of having to spend the next 24 hrs with the two guys makes me eager to break this awkward silence.

“So which department are you from? ” I ask.

Woah Boy. Very bad move! That was like opening a can of worms.

For the next hour or so, the guy would not shut up. Blar blar blar. Blar blar blar. I’ve got so much work. I was made to sign 3 extras and I went up to the 22nd story to cry. I’m really sensitive. The guy sitting beside you ( me: who? A: me.) is anti-social. I can’t get along with people in my unit. On and on and on.

Ok, perhaps i exaggerate the time he spent talking. But really, it seemed endless.

Then he starts on something, which really really makes me , well feel really bad.

“I can’t get along with people in my unit because of the M word. ” he says.

“What M word?”

” Money”

He then lets out on how his colleagues watch a movie every month. ( ER. Every month? Hullo? ) How he cannot come to terms with the fact that the guy sitting next to him in office, DRIVES to work. ( Gasp. ) How he wanted to buy an ipod , but decided to go for a cheaper creative player instead.

By now, I am disturbed, a little guilty and very annoyed by him.

With a ipod, and ipod touch and a psp in my bag. I can’t help but think ” He is talking to the WRONG person”

Then there’s my bag. I was carrying my brown JC crumpler that day.

“This bag very expensive right? More than $100? Cause my superior bought it as a gift for someone…”

Me, hastily : ” Er, no, less than $100. “

Up to here I pretty much had enough. I wasn’t the least bit interested in what he had to say, about anything anymore. Really. Everything he said from then onwards was. ” Uh huh” “Yea” ” I see” “Oh..”

The worst part? This guy didn’t bring anything to occupy himself over the next 24 hrs. I had 3 books, a psp, 2 magazine, my course notes, and my ipod. This dude brought nothing. If he thought that he was going to spend the next 24 hours talking. NO WAY.

I got me thinking after that bout 2 things.

First, this guy is pretty freaking miserable. It seems that it’s money that’s making him miserable. After that, I reflected about my previous post. I realized, screw it, why bother getting miserable and depressed over money!( No, that’s not an indication that I’m going on a spending spree ) Sure, it’s important to spend wisely, but there’s really no reason to mull over every cent.

Secondly, I’m a pretty horrible person. There’s a person, who though more on the sentimental side, and likes to sing along to Britney Spears songs, likes to talk a lot, but overall seems like a nice person. ( Ok, what the hell ) He’s trying to share his thoughts, feelings and whatever. And there I am, nonchalant, couldn’t care less.

After a while, I think he got the message. He started shutting up. Ok he didn’t start shutting up, he just started singing along to Britney Spears ( GAWD. ) But he stopped talking to me. And that was really all that mattered to me.

Towards the end of the session, he apologized to me. I was rather perplexed. But I thought to myself ” Eh, he probably said something mean to me? Or something? Or maybe he was apologizing for talking so much” But really, I didn’t know. Cause, I WASN’T LISTENING.

I’m trying to regain my zest for life. Ok. Maybe regain isn’t the best word. I don’t think I ever really had it.

I’ve been rather down this past few weeks. A lack of interest towards many of the things which I normally would be interested in. It’s the kind of feeling where I go out, I don’t find myself interested in anything at all. Shopping. No thanks. Food? Anything.

Becoming a “working” individual has definitely changed the way I see things. Yea, technically, I’m not part of the economically active strata of society. I live by my $420 allowance. I take a slightly different outlook to money now. Mum and Dad don’t supplement my allowance, save for my $50 concession pass every month. Besides, they already pay for my driving and lessons, I don’t really expect them to.

Watching my monthly allowance deplete is well, painful. Food. Transport. I dread going to the ATM to withdraw money, but find myself doing so too regularly.

It doesn’t help that some of my peers are given allowances far higher than me. I’m getting a fraction of what some of them are. It really sucks to be “underpaid”.

I guess one good thing about National Service, is really It’s teaching me the value of money. While previously, I wouldn’t really think twice of buying something , now I find myself asking ” I really really need it? “, before deciding against it (most of the time).

I think I need to do some Community Work.

Last week was crazy. This week was much better.

I’m just about 10 % through my diploma course.

I’m trying to make a concerted effort to keep my brain active throughout my 2 years of National Service. In the beginning of the year, I embarked on mission to find something meaningful to keep myself occupied with. There were very many things that I could possibly do, learn an instrument, take up a sport ( er, ok, not really ), take up a language, do volunteer work… In the end, I decided that taking a part time course would well, be the best option, cause It would keep my brain the most active.

Having no experience whatsoever with private schools, I then began my search for a suitable course. I narrowed my options to a Part Time Diploma in IT and a Part Time Diploma in Communication Management. I decided against the former cause, some of the things taught were similar to that of JC Computing, furthermore, I wanted to do something new. Hence, the latter.

There are many part time courses available in business, marketing, accountancy. But I’m not into them. Media related studies has been one of my interests ( I think my GP tutor can testify this, virtually all my essays are media related ) , so I was quite eager to take up the course.

Classes commenced sometime in August. It’s really quite the crash course. 4 School Terms. 8 Modules. 10 Lessons per module. 2 Lessons a week. 3 hours per lesson. 1 Assignment every module. 1 Exam every module. Over 10 months.

Stepping into a private school is really an eye opening experience. Gee. Where do I start. Of course, there’s the varying ages in classroom. Then there’s education level. Nationality. Background. Occupation. ( It seems like such courses are popular amongst NSFs )

How do I put this across nicely? But my first lecturer, was… incompetent. “What’s the difference between an ipod and a mp3 player?” ‘Nuff said.

Nonetheless, there was still much to learn from ( some ) of her lessons, as well as my classmates.

Upon the completion of my first module, I must say, It’s going to be an uphill battle. 3 hour lessons on Wednesdays and Saturdays. That’s going to take a lot a lot of self discipline.

The thought of studying during NS is unfathomable to most.  For me, I guess it’s cause I was so close to getting a stay in vocation, that I’m trying to maximize whatever opportunities I have. Life is funny. Ok, It’s not funny, but really, anything can happen. I guess the only word to describe it is Fate.

If I had passed my NAPFA in JC. If the MO hadn’t dismiss my “muscle strain” on my shin during the week of field camp. If I had to OOC.

Would I be where I am? No. No and No. Events of the past months have really taught me that, really you can never predict what’s going to happen. I don’t like going religious, but honestly, someone up there has a plan. You’ve just got to go along with it and maximize whatever opportunities given.

Ok. my pre-lude is a post in itself.

BACK to the first line. Last week was crazy cause, well it was just crazy. The week before last, I spent my entire weekend working on my assignment due on Wednesday. It was really difficult for me to get back to studying, it’s been a solid what? 10 months since my brain did any productive work.

Alongside my assignment, I was required to give a 5 minute presentation on my paper on Wednesday. Up till Tuesday night, I was still working on my assignment and I only got down to working on my presentation at 11 pm. I don’t think I’ve ever been this unprepared for a presentation in my life.

And so, at 9.30 pm ( who in the world gives presentations at 9.30 ? ), I started off my presentation with ” A very good morning to everyone.”

…

To top it all off, I had a written exam on Saturday night. ( Once again, exam on a Saturday night? Shoot me. ) Obviously unprepared, I found myself writing nonsense. I wrote so much crap. I think if I was in JC, I would be dead several times over.

Driving is another thing that has been keeping my occupied. I’ve finally booked my test, it’s on December 4. I’ve got a good solid 2 months.

Anyone who learns driving from CDC would tell you that the booking system is really screwed up. You have to book lessons way in advance. In September, I ‘m booking lessons for November. Expensive prices aside, you have to been really early in order to book to slots you want. Booking opens on the 15th of every month so, that usually means I’ve got to stay up past midnight on the 14th of every month. ( I’m glad I’m not booking anymore lessons )

I favour weekend morning driving lessons. I forces me to get out of bed early, so that I still have the rest of the day to do what I want. Most of the time, I’d book Sat and Sun 8.30 am slots. Of course, there was the month of July, where I totally didn’t manage to book any slots, that really disrupted my learning.

Increasingly though, I found that I was too late in booking Saturday morning slots, and hence had to turn to weekday nights. Ugh. Driving at night is a pain! I’ve had about 6 night lessons already, and It’s really no fun. You’re tired. You want to go home. The traffic is crazy. And sometimes, cause there’s no time for dinner, you get hungry too.

I started off booking Friday night lessons, but I realized it was really bad way to end your weekend. So I switched to Monday nights. School driving instructors are random ( you can get a different instructor every lesson) , it’s really the luck of the draw.  I must say though, some are just downright horrible and mean. The kind that makes you want to drive into a tree . ( Well yes, i would die too )

Gee. What a mess this post is! I guess this is the result of not blogging for a extended period of time. I didn’t even get to talk about what I wanted! It’s 12.42 and I’m hungry, so I’m going to end here! Haha.

I think I’m in some kind of crisis.

I’m muddled. Confused. Upset. Angry. Bored. Lonely. Happy. Relieved. Stressed. Relaxed. Afraid.

All at the same time it seems.

You know the feeling when you really want something ? You spend day and night thinking about it, and when you actually get it, hey, it’s not that big a deal after all. Or even possibly, Did I even really want it in the first place? Or do I just want it cause everyone else wants it?

Somehow, I kinda feel that way about my PES status.

On Thursday, I went to see my specialist to consult him on my upcoming Medical review. I went in expecting him to arrange a bone scan for me, to determine whether my fracture had held completley. To my surprise, he didn’t. He explained that doing bone scans too often would be harmful to me. ( Injecting the isotopes would expose me to radiation and cancer )

It was almost instanteous that he recommended that I stay with my current PES staus. It came as a huge surprise to me ( he could have just given me a 1 year long status in march, after all ) But there was a catch ( as always ) It was temp. for ANOTHER 6 months. Deja Vu!

I recieved this piece of news with rather mixed emotions. Relieved that I no longer needed to worry about my fate. Yet at the same time, upset and disappointed. There was this part of me which really wanted to go. Somehow I felt that I wasn’t really learning anything in my current unit and I wanted to know what else there was out there.

Then there this part of me which goes ” I THINK YOU NEED TO BE SLAPPED. ARE YOU CRAZY? THIS IS THE KIND OF LIFE OTHERS CAN ONLY DREAM OF.”

Sometimes I really do think I need to be slapped. I take for granted the fact that I come home to my own bed ever y night. I take for granted that compared to others, I have so much liberty and freedom. I take for granted that my daily routine and actions are not (totally) dictated, and that I still have some free will.

Gee. I’m putting that aside. Besides, the MO hasn’t endorsed the specialists letter yet. His decision ( or at least the medical board’s ) is still pending.

and the internet is a pain to use.

I woke up Saturday morning to a rather weird smell. Somewhat familiar horrible smell. It was that of men’s colonge, very similar to the ones that some people in their office choose to overpower themselves with every morning.

I spent the morning baffled by the smell, which seemed to follow me wherever I went. Later that afternoon, someone commented that my eyebrows looked blue. I was “EH? How in the world can my eyebrows look blue? ” [ I checked it out in the mirror, they didn't look blue ! ]

After some thinking, I made sense of the weirdness. Seems like the new shampoo I had used the night before had some very undesirable “side effects”. Besides the overpowering horribly stinky cologne like smell which it gave my hair, the shampoo was also blue in colour. I figure that somehow, maybe somehow, the blue colouring got stuck or sth. ( How very disturbing ) [ Anyway, I still couldn’t tell my eyebrows were blue )

Time to switch back to old shampoo.

I think sometimes, I’m the most boring person in the world.

The internet is a pain to use. Painfully slow.

( By here, I mean here in Singapore, not here in the photo. )

I need a break of sorts.  Anywhere. Anywhere but here. I’ve learnt that schooling is one thing. But working in an office environment, it’s a totally different thing. It’s really draining. At least when I went to school , I would reach home in the afternoon, and still have a acceptable amount of “me” time. Working is draining. Commuting, ugh.

I really want to take a week off to go somewhere.

I recently got in touch with one of my ex-classmates. Well ok, ex-”best” friend. I know I really shouldn’t but I’m extracting part of his personal email to me.

Anyway, there’s been loads of stuff that I have wanted to say to you despite us being separated for quite some time. Would you laugh at me if I told you that I actually dreamt about you just a few months ago? Please don’t. ):

I suppose I have been feeling guilty and responsible for how we have grown apart. I mean I don’t know if you remember but we were best buds in P3 but then I went to GEP and made new friends and slowly lost you in the process.

I was rather taken aback by his email. Ok, disturbed is the word.

It was a very short lived friendship, I knew him for a couple of months before he switched classes, but yet till this date he dreams about it? Gee, he must feel an awful amount of guilt for abandoning a friend. I’m not all that eager to befriend him again though. ( Can’t ignore any underlying intentions he might have ( yes, that sounds really malicious, but ah well ) )

Made me think though. It’s funny how people, when they move on to bigger, better things, have fresh new exciting opportunities, forget all those who were around them. It’s happened time and time again.

I don’t really think that people should stick with the same group of people all their lives. It’s good to have a few old friends who are reliable, and who you know will be there for you. But there will always be people who treat friends like they are disposable.

Go through thick and thin for a period of time. And when that tumultuous period is over, “Goodbye, nice knowing you”

How very sad.

My Life as I know it, at least.

I’m not be pessimistic, I’d like to very much think that I can remain in my current unit. ( I don’t even like calling it a unit, I’d rather call it a department ) But I really don’t want to get my hopes up.

Going back to a combat unit will be, in a word, difficult, on very many different levels. There’s social, psychological and physical. On the social level, it’s unlikely that I will be in a unit with people I know. Psychologically, it will be very very difficult. I think I’ve pretty much grown accustomed to the working hours, and being in a stay out vocation. Having to stay in, will just be… well miserable for me. But, ah well, don’t most people stay in.

Last but not least, there’s the physical. I’d be lying to you if I said I am combat fit material. The state of my lower limbs at the end of BMT, was anything but combat ready. Has my injury healed completley? Well, I really don’t know. Nothing conclusive until I do my bone scan. Does it hurt? Nope.

ARGH. I really don’t know why I’m freaking out over this. I told my mum about this, and she said it was normal. To be uncertain, and out of control of what lies ahead of you. I guess the outcome really depends on my current medical condition, and at the end of the day, what the MO decides is best for me.  Right now, I’m just going to have to cherish my time in my department.