Ten December Ten

You could be anywhere in the world right now.

You could be in the same little red dot as me.

You could be a few time zones away in a vast and far flung land.

Wherever you may be, Happy Birthday.

Power to the protagonist

I need a potent dose of energy.

Quickie - Part II

I am heartened.

These days, whenever too much pressure builds up within me and I get dangerously close to exploding into a million messy pieces, I find myself craving for a solid jog of 3 big rounds around the sprawling park and its greenery* instead of that carcinogenic you-know-what.

I am finally really, truly, getting there.




*Occasionally replaced by visions of vicious attacks on buffet spreads.

Quickie

These days, it seems like 24 hours are simply not enough to get by.

I have chalked up a huge sleep debt.

And owe many others one too many SMS/MSN/email/phone call replies, drinking dates and such.

My to-do list is growing scarily longer by the second too.

So here is a short and sweet entry before my blog starts growing cobwebs.

There have been plenty of times when I have an incredible urge to blog about something, but a number of factors always conspire to get in the way of that.

So I have taken to mental-blogging.

I can actually see the words being typed out in my mind while a monologue carries out somewhere within me.

I hope I remember them all when I can finally plonk myself in front of the lappie at home for a substantial amount of time - without having a mountain of other online tasks to clear, and before the sleeping bug bites.

Alright.

That's it for now.

Till we meet again.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Let's talk about protection

For the longest time, I had gone without it.

I whined that it just wouldn't be the same.

Obviously, I knew what I was potentially setting myself up for by ignoring

this cardinal rule.

But, well, you know how it is...blind confidence tends to surface in the face

of absolute pleasure.

That has all changed now, though.

Thanks (or no thanks) to a most unfortunate accident, and rounds of chiding

by well-meaning friends, I am a firm believer of protection now.

Screen protector, that is.

For my beloved Samsung Omnia.

On its my day with me, the stylus slid across the shiny glass screen with a sickening screech and permanently scarred it with a heartbreaking 1.5cm mark.

The next day, the screen protector went on.

And it did not diminish the beauty of the Omnia in any way.

I only wished I had subscribed to the idea of protection earlier.

*Stares wistfully at the nearly-invisible-but-I-know-it's-there scratch*

Girl talk

"You have beautiful eyes," gushed Lena, a former colleague and dear friend

who had zipped back to Singapore from Shanghai for a quick visit.

Oh, thank y..."

"When you close them," she interjected, while squinting intently at the screen

of her Lumix. She was trying to capture an artistic shot of my dissection of the salmon tart.

"It looks like you have some nice strokes of eyeliner along your lash lines when you are staring down at the food."

Ah. I see.

So, I have beautiful eyes.

When I close them.

Wow.

Since I wasn't wearing eyeliner - or even the flimsiest coat of mascara - on that fateful day, I am still considering if I should file away the comment in my

THUMB-UP, THUMB-DOWN or TBC* folder.

At the same time, I am reconsidering our friendship too.

Just kidding, of course.

*Blinks aforementioned beautiful eyes innocently*

Seriously.

After all, Lena and I go back a long way.

Back in the days when we were practically babies trying to survive in the strange world of the grown-ups, we had clung on to each other for dear life

as we fought to keep our fire and sanity intact while battling various archetypical villains.

Such as the Wicked Witch and the Big Bad Wolf.

And of course, Lena has been nothing but nice to me whenever she returns.

She never fails to buy me rose wine.

The first time.

The second time.

The third time.

And she has even added lovely vino chocolates to the goodie bag now.

My profuse thanks have been extended. Now, there's just one more thing I like to say to her.

"Lena, I am not an alcoholic**."

*To Be Confirmed.

**The last time I checked, downing 1 - 2 beer in the middle of the afternoon in a tropical climate at an alfresco cafe is scientifically known as "quenching the thirst", according to the rule book of Alcoholic Anonymous. But oh, do keep the rose wine coming...I am not complaining.

Stinky paw

Though I have two pugs in the house, that stinky paw belongs to me.

The left one, to be precise.

I have no idea what happened, but it is reeking of pugs' pee...and it is resistant to all kinds of cleaning agents.

I have no recollection of going anywhere near pugs' pee the entire day.

How. Did. That. Happen?

*Praying hard the stench will mysteriously disappear when I wake up tomorrow*

Another feather in the hat

Or rather, another Singapore flag planted firmly on the map of
major international events.

Tonight is the night where racing royalty the likes of Lewis Hamilton, Felipe Massa, Fernando Alonso & Co will exceed even the most generous of local speed limits by more than a couple of times to race down the tree/colonial building/skyscraper-lined streets as well as century-old and contemporary bridges of Singapore, with the blessing of the government of this famously lawful city-state.

In fact, 60% of the cost of turning this racing fantasy into a reality
came out of the nation's piggy bank.

Despite concerns of visibility and safety by some F1 drivers when the concept of a night race was first announced, we have delivered on the deal to turn night into day, as experienced by the drivers at the first practise session
on 26 September, thanks to a bespoke, state-of-the-art lighting system set up along the 5.067km track.

It had been said that European cities would typically require a period of 2 years or so to set up a Grand Prix, but our little island has gotten everything and everyone ready for a flag-off in a mere 10 months.

I think that comment came from a certain main man of all this racing business.
I can't be certain if I heard that correctly though since it was something my ears caught on the news when my mind was fully focused on bringing the dinner to
my mouth. And I can't be certain either if there are any varying factors between the Grand Prix events that give rise to the time difference in preparation between countries, but well, there it goes again - my patriotism is doing a jubilant little dance.

Reuters has gathered the following reviews after the F1 teams' first night
on the track:

"The visibility is great and you don't really feel like you are driving at night with all the lights on the track." - Ferrari's world champion Kimi Raikkonen

"An amazing venue. It's a very physical circuit -- more than I expected, actually, I'd say it requires double the energy of Monaco over a single lap." - McLaren Mercedes Formula 1 race driver Lewis Hamilton

"Atmospherically probably the best pictures ever seen in F1," he said. "The scenery -- it's unreal, it's like in a movie. It's a big, big step forward for Formula One." - Mercedes motorsport vice-president Norbert Haug

"Singapore had become the marquee race on the calendar.The atmosphere is fantastic, the style of the place is unique, this was a good start to what will become the most exceptional race weekend of the year." - BMW-Sauber Team Technical Director Willy Rampf

Tonight is the night of the inaugural Formula 1 Grand Prix Night Race.

In the world, in Singapore.

P.S. I was at Funan Centre yesterday evening and when I stepped out of the building, it was as if I had walked right onto the F1 track itself - the entire Raffles Place district was roaring with the sound of the F1 cars burning tyres at their practise session. It was an adrenaline-pumping experience, and the night seemed more alive than usual. Lovely.

September 27

8 years ago, tonight had seemed like a night where some of my fanciest 6000sqm castles-in-the-air could finally have their foundations laid.

8 years on, tonight is the night Singapore holds its second night of Formula 1 practise sessions and qualifying races...one night before the world's first Formula 1 Night Race flags off on our humble soil.

Oh well...at least someone has done something right in the last 2920 days.

*Stares hard at the wall and contemplates performing some serious and very literal headbanging*

Let me paint a thousand words

Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Just do it. Just do it.

Just do...do...do what???

Clouds in my cinnamon coffee

Today is one of those days where you could probably fry an egg on the pavement.

It would have been pure hell if I were out and about somewhere.

But ahhh...I am not.

I am sipping a cup of cinnamon coffee in my pretty little bedroom, with breezy jazzy numbers playing softly in the background, and the fan* working
at full speed just inches from my face.

Which makes this a rather lovely afternoon.

*Delicately brings coffee cup to lips and sips it like a lady*

Today is one of those days where I don't really want to freak myself out by thinking about life in its entirety...where I am quite content to just savour
the present (read: slip into denial mode) and leave the freaking out
to another day.


*An air-conditioner would be nicer but I am a positive thinker.

All that glitters is not gold

Olympic Gold Medal: S$1 million

Paralympic Gold Medal: S$100,000

Disability: S$900,000

Justice and Equality: Priceless

I am a little reluctant to adopt this overused MasterCard concept as a starting point, but it seems like the simplest and most straightforward way to depict the disparity in the recognition and treatment awarded to disabled athletes in Singapore.

At sweet 16, swimmer Yip Pin Xiu has made history by snagging Singapore's
first-ever gold medal at the Paralympic Games. With her triumph in the 50m backstroke, Singapore's flag and national anthem were raised and played for the first time at the Paralympic or Olympic Games. That's not all - she also picked up a silver for 50m freestyle.

The only damper in this otherwise inspiring and joyous occasion
is the prize money.

Our newly-minted sports heroine, who suffers from muscular atrophy,
will receive S$100,000 for her gold. A nice fat sum, of course.

But oh wait - if she had been able-bodied and competing in the Olympics,
she would be a millionaire now.

Is that saying we place a vastly - or rather, grossly - different value on the amount of time, as well as physical and mental effort that Olympians and Paralympians put into their training? And a different value on the glory
they bring to the country with their win?

In their quest to achieve sporting excellence, would disabled athletes have it
any easier than their able-bodied counterparts?

According to The International Paralympic Committee, the Paralympic Games
are elite sports events that seek to emphasize the participants' athletic achievements rather than their disability. They have always been held in the same year as the Olympic Games, and since 1988, they have taken place at the same prestigious venues too.

Yet, along with its article on Singapore's first-ever gold medal in the Paralympic Games, The New Paper also highlighted the issue of disability sports being viewed as less important than mainstream sports over here. It is a category that receives less funding, and where the athletes get less training allowances and prize money.

On a land that talks about basing things on justice and equality in its national pledge, isn't it about time to not only see past one's race, language and religion but also an athlete's physical status, so as to achieve happiness, prosperity and progress for our nation...and the sporting scene?

For the same glory, they are given a much-diminished prize. It is like a reminder that for all their dogged determination and the trials they went through to get over their disability and do the nation proud, they are still perceived as lesser beings at the end of the day.

This is not merely a question of monetary gains.

The is a question of fairness and giving appropriate credit where due, and one which the media has already posed to the relevant People-With-Power-To-Change-Things.

With a gold medal as a badge of honour, perhaps there's finally more bargaining power on the table now.

Birds, bees and what-nots

They are incredibly tiny, perhaps the size of two full-stops.

They are green.

They don't seem like they are capable of flapping their nearly-invisible wings
to soar three storeys above ground.

Which makes me wonder if these funny green insects now crash-landing all over my laptop, my bed and my limbs are the offsprings of a bigger, stronger and
more insidious unidentified creature that has chosen to deliver its brood
in my bedroom.

Bugger.

This is one of the perils of staying a little too close to the ground.

Though I absolutely adore being at eye-level with all the vast greenery and having lovely birdies (ok - mynahs and crows) swopping into my kitchen
for tea visits, I do abhor sharing my living space with pests.

It is marginally acceptable if they are no more than fleeting visitors.

I can live with that.

It is quite another ugly story altogether when I cannot ascertain if there is an entire battalion of them surreptitiously hiding in some obscure corner,
biding their time, waiting to spring a heinous attack on me.

NEWSFLASH: A weird-looking bee just floats into the room.

Someone put me through to Discovery Channel, please.

Inclination and declination

Which way does the wind blow, I wonder?

Or more to the point, which way should the wind blow.

It is easy for random spectators to go, "Oh just follow your heart".

But what if the heart in question is...as lost as a blind man in a labyrinth?

What if what I like is what I hate, and what I hate, I think I can find enough good reasons to think I can grow to like? Bearing in mind that the four parts (or five, depending on how you interpret it) in the last sentence are each referring to different issues altogether?

How did I get back to the start of this complex quandary all over again in the span of a few days? With no triggers I can think of, and after enjoying months of
Ha-I-got-it-all-figured-out-now bliss?

*Kicks off killer heels, sighs deeply, and burrows under the duvet in despair*

Pop goes the balloon

This probably isn't going to sound too ladylike nor glamourous, and it hardly seems like something one can call a sassy second posting on this new blog.

But for strange unknown reasons, I feel compelled to tell the world that my digestive system has been acting out of character lately.

It seems like there is a ball of air ballooning in there somewhere. Sometimes it gets bigger, sometimes it gets smaller.

And sometimes...it gets deflated with a little help from me.

Well, of course the air has to exit somewhere. I do hope you are not having your lunch right now.

In any case, I wonder if it has anything to do with the amount of food I have been devouring lately.

Oh. Wait a minute.

*Playfully slap lips with french-manicured fingers*

Did I say devouring? I really mean nibbling, of course.

Now, would you excuse me while I head to the...hmmm...powder room.

From sneakers to stilettoes

I am abandoning my 2-year-old diary at http://dawnology.blogspot.com/*

From now on, here is where you will get to hear my rants, raves and assorted dissertations on life at large.

In some ways, I consider this a manner of heralding my move into adulthood.

Obviously, it's l-o-n-g overdue that I behave like a proper grown-up, at the ripe old age of XX (what you don't know won't hurt me)**. But I think I am finally ready to take the big step forward.

And what better way to do that than to start with the transition from a somewhat juvenile blog to a somewhat sleeker one...a metaphorical transition from a girl to a lady, from funky soles to killer heels. Perfect for crushing some balls.

Oopsydoosy, pardon me.

*Cue peals of ladylike, tinkling laughter*

There, doesn't it all sound pretty brilliant on virtual paper?

I am good to go.


* Due to a keen urge to start on a fresh slate, I am leaving all my past postings behind in the old blog, which I am keeping.

** Contrary to popular belief, I am not hung up about my age - yet. So if you really must know...keep coming back. It will rear its still-pretty head one fine day.