Basket.

I should have written about our class gathering at Sean's house last week, um, last week, but I inadvertently forgot to. Perhaps lack of sleep worsened my notorious absent-mindedness.

Anyway, it was a barbecue and attendance was a lot better than it was much of the time we were still schooling. Mercifully, it was a relatively cool night (more often than not these days the hours of darkness have been balmy affairs) and we were able to spend a fair bit of time sitting around talking. Perhaps bonding as a class again. Following this, a number of us went down to catch a late screening of Batman Begins; upon completing the short sojourn to the cinema across the road, Roger discovered that he had left the tickets behind. He redeemed himself by going to get them and returning in record time. With officer cadets of such finesse, the defence of our noble Republic is in safe hands indeed.

The movie itself was good, but I have neither the time nor the energy to do something for it like I did for Downfall (which I still love to bits). We returned after it to sprawl around Sean's room and exchange views, anecdotes and reminiscences until about 5am, whereupon everyone wordlessly agreed that we could not do without sleep after all by nodding off almost simultaneously.

I went home on Sunday and promptly had an amazing stomachache. Maybe it was the curry. Or maybe a compatriot to the not-fully-cooked chicken wing I complained about and Angeline nodded at unsympathetically. But it's not a rare occurence at barbecues.

I returned to camp on Sunday night cursing the silliness of having to climb 3 floors to sign a book, come back down, walk all the way across a carpark and road and climb 5 more floors to get to my bunk. The fact that it was one of those awful balmy nights made everything worse. Sweat is all well and good, except when it can't dry.

The week that followed was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the exchange of views between my bunkmates and I, such exchanges of which are becoming more common. I am atheist, leftist and fairly liberal-minded. Ranged against me are Christians, rightists and to me, uptight conservatives. We have found plenty to disagree upon, from the separation of Church and State (I think the idea that religion actually gives state officials a moral standard by which they may use to govern is quite frankly ridiculous) to the recent issue of the Singaporean student (which I think most of us know of) who posted a... risque photograph on her weblog. Obviously they are opposed to abortion, and to sex before marriage. But I must commend them for displaying no signs of homophobia, and for respecting my views as much as I do theirs. And so we get along. It is good to discuss such issues once in a while. Keeps the mind sharp.

Work-wise, I spent much time winning and losing at Chinese chess, taking out the trash (that sounds too American for my comfort) and maintaining the antiques that constitute most of the Singapore Artillery's target acquisition capabilities. This included using sandpaper to de-rust cable reels, which thanks to intermittent rain and high humidity were covered in a thick layer of iron oxide. In the process of carrying out my patriotic duty, I inhaled vast quantities of the afore-mentioned compound, an action which I believe did the power of good for my respiratory system and will no doubt contribute immeasurably to my future good health.

And so, in our own ways, we struggle and muddle through life, with all its sharp bends and potholes you can't see in the dark. A book I read part of (the part before they began going into "Christ is the saviour", um, stuff - nothing against Christians or Catholics, but really, that isn't my thing) this week put forth that the worst thing one can do is get used to how things are, as opposed to one's vision of how things should be - ie to get used to a non-ideal situation. It is an intriguing proposition, but I don't see any other way to live life than to get used to taking whatever it deals one and making the most of it.