Basket.

And so yet another New Year's Eve has arrived, and it is once more time to look back on a whole year gone; to wonder what has changed and what has not, total up with has been done and what has not and then come to a final conclusion on how the year has been.

Forgettable, at best, for me. Hellish is a better term.

I greeted it with cautious optimism, but hopes were soon dashed by a brutal January, which included sampling all the delights of Singapore's tropical rainforest in a seven-day field camp. This continued in much the same vein until March, when I finally finished BMT and got off that blasted island for good. In retrospect, that was the best month of them all. I passed through the rigours of the FATA Trade Course after that and served through a very mundane June. All was nice and peaceful until July, which, for obvious reasons, is the month I most want to forget. August was spent on recovering, painful treatments and recovering from painful treatments. The rest of the year was spent half in some sort of administrative limbo and half in boring office work, but after what came before, I was very happy doing it all.

To be fair to this year, it has had its moments and it has provided its cherished memories. Compared to its two predecessors, however, it's been boring at best. But that's not the reason why I've so hated this year. The reason is because this year has shown me that it is foolish to be optimistic, and the whole new world turned out to be a cesspit.

What went some way to salvage the year, of course, were people. Those close to me - where else could all the moments and cherished memories come from? From DOTA with my old 4E mates to dinner with Ao1C and watching fireworks with Winston - it's been things like these that have made a truly difficult year that little easier to bear.

And now, no matter how difficult, the year is all but over. The only thing more important that remembering the past is looking towards the future. 2006 will be a better year. It has to be, because it is the year I ORD. Pink IC, here I come.

Before I forget, here I will go doing my annual thing of thanking everyone who has somehow done something for me this year. To those who have helped me smile when I most needed to, laugh when I thought I had lost my sense of humour, listened when I had something to say, consoled me when I've felt simply hopeless, offered advice that turned out to be invaluable and all in all provided all these memories that will last a lifetime - Thank you. Sincerely, and ever so much.

And for everyone else, Happy New Year. Or so I hope.

Back from another fruitful day out, in which I caught the second movie worth its while this month - Wallace and Gromit. With a suitably creative yet still G-rated plot and chock-full of delightful horror movie spoofs and lovable puns ("Gold bullets?" "Yes, 24 carat (carrot)"), it was one of the few films I found genuinely... fun to watch. Fun. Sometimes, that's all we need.

I've been overdosing it this whole week, though. The other movie I watched this month was of course, King Kong (or tua lei kong - fuck, were the natives speaking Hokkien or what?), yesterday with a Sean that had recently recovered powers of self-locomotion, newly-commissioned-and -determined-to-tekan Roger, jumpy Gen and woman warrior Shuang Ning (America, haha). Sick parrot Yi San (though I believe her illness to be more of the mental sort than physical, what with her tales of some ghost pushing her father into a drain and then following home to haunt him) failed to show, which meant a loss of countless decibels of volume but perhaps also a loss of curious stares from passers-by.

It was a good enough film, but one thing I could not figure out is how the director managed to make it last three hours and not feel overlong. Because the plot is basically:

- Bunch of people find mysterious island with strange creatures and stranger Hokkien-speaking tribesmen with body piercings that look horribly painful and teeth that are just plain horrible.

- Bunch of people want to shoot film on island.

- In the course of this attempt, are captured/brutally murdered/torn to pieces/eaten/crushed by natives/dinosaurs/enormous insects/giant ape that is apparently de facto tinpot dictator.

- Survivors from bunch of people find said ape and captured it after yet more casualties.

- Ape is brought to New York, where it inevitably breaks loose, causes havoc and is inevitably killed for it.

- "Beauty killed the beast."

Yes, three hours? He's an amazing director to pull it off. But he would have been most welcome in my book to cut some scenes involving giant insects/arthropods/leeches or whatever the fuck were those horrible things with fucking suckers, god because, well, I am quite the pussy when it comes to giant insects or any similar creepy-crawlies. Thus, I am better off not seeing enormous roaches about half the size of a human being who need to be killed with machetes. Machetes. Heavens.

Oh, and the giant centipedes get an honourable mention too. The scene where they appear is one of the extremely few movie scenes I've ever seen that have actually made me cringe.

Movie aside, it felt simply wonderful just to be doing something with friends. Especially this particular very special bunch that I've seen so much together with.

Ao1c 2003-04, once more, here's to you all.

Well, Christmas came and went - not that it's anything to me except more and better food, but I hope everyone to whom it was more than just that had a nice holiday.

I called on Saturday to wish my grandmother a Merry Christmas, because my entire mother's side of the family is Catholic, and rather devoted Catholics too. She asked me whether I had ever thought of becoming a Catholic. It was a difficult moment, because I'm a committed atheist, which is a fact just about everyone close to me knows. I've always been extremely open about it - except to family. It would have been most horrid of me to tell my dear grandmother that, so I replied that I would think about it. Her health is not good and since religion is such a major part of her life, I did not and do not want to take the risk of shocking her.

It was a difficult moment, nonetheless. I don't like lying, even little white lies such as these. I always believe in being honest and forthright. But sometimes, we do need to be false for the greater good. That's just life.

In any case, A01C gathered at Christmas for the 3rd year running, a tradition I intend to keep going for all eternity because we always have such a good time. Truly, the best moments in life are spent over a good meal with a bunch of people you care about most deeply.

Friday was the last day of the year I will spend in camp. When I next return, it will be 2006. Fresh year, last year of service.

Looking back on a year overwhelmingly spent in various military camps (actually only two, perhaps more fortunate than many) - it's been an intriguing experience at times. From the relative comfort of the BMT bunks (obviously built so to wayang a good show in front of all the parents) to the spartan accommodation provided for the 8th FATA Trade Course to the current better-than-BMT new bunks, I've seen both extremes of the spectrum.

Truly cold nights in BMT were replaced by truly cold nights in Khatib Camp tormented by mosquitoes, which were in turn replaced by stuffy nights in improperly ventilated new Khatib bunks. Well, at least these days I don't have to lie awake for five hours scratching countless mosquito bites on my legs and arms. Slept, 10.30-1.30am and never again after that. It sucked.

Most "What the fuck?" moment concerning accommodation during the year: when CO sir (then still not my boss) came to check the bunks and asked me, as bunk IC, to open my cupboard for him to have a look. Of course, we were told it was a standby bunk, not bed, so my cupboard was quite... improperly prepared for such an eventuality. "Not too bad", he said. I breathed again. Of course, I didn't know CO was a nice guy then.

In any case, not sleeping at home most of the time, I have learnt, only makes your own bed all the more comfortable.

I am puzzled. And also pissed, because what the fuck is up with the weather this year? Isn't December supposed to be a waterlogged month of cumulonimbus clouds and thunderstorms? Instead, it's been an unbearably hot and sticky month so far, and it feels more like May than any other time of the year. I am mystified and I hate 100% humidity because look, let's go downstairs and get a drink of water and return drenched in sweat.

Otherwise, the week was even more quiet than usual. I finished my book by Tuesday and somehow wasted the next three days. If there wasn't an internet terminal in the office I would have dashed my brains out against the white, white walls in sheer boredom. But they are so white I didn't even dare squish this inquisitive little spider that was making its eight-legged way to some unknown arachnid destination.

This week that is about to begin will be the dying year's last full one, and 2006 beckons with increasing urgency. I think I will make a New Year's Resolution for once. I usually don't because I don't bother, but I think I should start bothering with certain things once in a while because "It's not my business" is beginning to become my most oft-used phrase since "fuck" and its various permutations.

And that's related to what I think I ought to resolve myself to doing this brand-new year, and it is: swear less.

This is partly because my family has complained that they hear one too many "what the fuck"s from me in the wee hours of the morning and partly because I realise I use "fuck/fucker/fucking/fuckshit/etc" and their various permutations about every other sentence. It is not a good sign because if I inadvertently do this when teaching next time, I am going to run foul of Singapore's hypersensitive parents and (to a lesser extent but still) students.

As such, I will try to cut swear word usage, but my personal opinion is I will probably fail terribly unless the fates give me fewer things to swear about.

Please?

I marked the official halfway line of service yesterday - a year since enlistment. Now, less than a year to go. It is encouraging to know that you have already served more than you have left to serve.

Remembering the anniversary brought me back to those chaotic last few weeks, last few days, leading up to December 10 2004. Walking through a neighbourhood at 2am carrying a Scrabble set, photos on the main road, so many heart-to-heart talks and confessions. So many memories in so little time. In a sense, those were my best days, even as enlistment hung forebodingly in the back of my mind.

It's been an awful year of service, conversely. I won't even try to lie to myself about it. It's been terrible, although I will not deny that it has had its moments. From viral fever in the days before Christmas 2004 to that horrific day this July, it's been dominated by pain of the most visceral, base sort: the physical. I still think physical pain is the least of all forms of pain, but trust me, it is bad enough. I still have flashbacks when I drift off every now and then of a shattered, bleeding finger I so calmly showed to everyone around. I remember that day with the utmost clarity, though I don't want to.

I really, really wish with all my heart that the year after this one is going to be a better year.

http://www.putfile.com/putfile-goodbye-to-singapore.php

I would quote it, but I don't want to sully my webpage with hypocrisy.

Guess what? It's a site hosted in the United States of America. Guess what is a country that still practises the death penalty? The United States of America. Guess which country's users are not banned from using the site despite the fact that this country still practises the death penalty? The United States of America.

Oh god, we are totally opposed to the death penalty so we are going to bar Singaporean users from using our site because Singapore still has the death penalty, but it is ok for US users to still utilise our site even though the US similarly with Singapore still practises the death penalty!

Is it just me, or is there a massive double standard here?

I am sick and fucking tired of hypocrites claiming the moral high ground. If you want to go all "killin' ppl 4 crimes iz wrong n barbaric d00dz", then take your hosting and fuck off somewhere else. Instead of staying in the USA and allowing US citizens to still use your site despite the fact that the US, like Singapore, still practises the death penalty. Or you could try to stop being so moralistic and thinking you are striking this blow for the advancement of global liberty and humanism here? Because all you are doing is showing people with something in their heads (sadly rare these days) that you are just being a bunch of childish assholes? Now that's an idea, isn't it?

Honestly, some people are just fucked up. In any case, a site run by a bunch of moralising hypocrites is a site not worth using. They can go and fuck themselves if they think that their two-bit, third-rate hosting site is anything that we are going to miss.

Just got back from watching Saw II with Yihong (a year after watching Saw with him at the same place, and maybe a year later we'll be back at Saw III?). A pretty good movie which I think NC-16 was a little too light a classification for given the extremely generous amounts of blood and gore. I was a little disturbed though, because it showed me just how much I have been desensitized to violence. None of the gory scenes fazed me much, and I laughed at some of them, although the one with all the syringes made me cringe a bit. Honestly, if you fear needles in any way, shape or form, do not watch this movie. Or cover your eyes at that scene, which I admired for its creativity.

Anyway, my brother brought back a good litre of Smirnoff this time. With an equal part of lime cordial, it's good stuff, but I don't drink too much because it makes me awfully sleepy. But I can understand why alcoholism is a vice. It's because alcohol is damn bloody good stuff.

Now that is the way to enjoy your leave. And the next time I see "6758..." appear on my caller ID, I am going to hang up the fucking phone.

Devan Nair dead at 82

And yet another character from Singapore's turbulent modern history bites the dust. It's been a bad year for them as Singapore's third president follows Dr Wee Kim Wee and Dennis Bloodworth. How many are left?

Unquestionably a major player in the creation of Singapore as we know it today, it is a pity that Mr Nair is remembered only for his presidency and the way it ended: ingloriously amidst allegations of alcoholism. He does not deserve such treatment, as he played major roles in our modern history all the way from limited self-government in 1959, when he was one of the communist detainees (along with Woodhull and more famously Lim Chin Siong) the PAP secured the release of after taking power, to his resignation as head of state in 1984.

Rest in peace.

I am home and I will be for the next five days, because I am clearing my leave. It is something to be happy about. Hah.

I suppose I took leave at the right time, because I have certain things... to think about.

Yes.

http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/singaporelocalnews/view/181766/1/.html

Justice is served, a rare thing but enough to warm the heart whenever it happens. Good riddance and stay out. If you are too self-centred to serve your country, you have no damned right to expect your (former) fellow citizens to welcome you back, and you don't deserve to add a single cent from their pockets to your selfishly amassed fortune.

It seems that my insomnia is returning. I slept barely five hours last night. I mean, this morning. Then I woke up and was unable to get back to dreamland no matter how damn hard I tried.

This trait of not needing much sleep helped me immeasurably in my school days, but I really don't like it. I envy people who can sleep long hours at a stretch, because I've never had the proverbial "7 hours of uninterrupted rest". For me, one entire night of uninterrupted sleep is so rare that I can remember all the exact occasions when it has actually happened. The number, by the way, can be counted on one hand. And some of those times, I was helped by alcohol, which is the one thing that can effectively knock me out.

I always wake up at least 2-3 times per average night. It is really hell on my energy levels because that means I sometimes become this walking corpse in the middle of the afternoon; so tired I can fall asleep while writing an essay. I hated the afternoon lessons, those than went from 2+ to 3+. It always required an immense effort of will to stay awake during those, and sometimes that was not enough. Sleeping in class is not something I like at all, I think it gives the teacher a very bad impression of the student. But much of the time it was not my choice.

Maybe I ought to see one of those fancy sleep therapists one day.

Ah, December. Here at last.

Otherwise, life is quite fucking boring.

Today, however, I shall bring out my latent mean streak and laugh at the poor O Level students who managed to cut themselves with penknives during their Biology practicals while cutting a carrot. Hahaha. Haha. No, seriously, it is fucking funny. Especially the wuss who fainted. I read the headline expecting it to be some poor anaemic convent girl, but it turns out the person was a 16-year-old young male adult. What a pussy. Seriously, a cut like that and you faint? God.

The New Paper also published a photo of a finger that had been mutilated by a penknife. Apparently the girl sliced off her nail and some flesh with it. I can laugh at that one too, because well, I've seen worse. A lot worse. Hahah.

Maybe I will get my penance for this nastiness later in the form of horrifying flashbacks, after which I will have to drug myself on alcohol and cry myself to sleep.