What ever happened to Amelia Earhart?

What ever happened to Amelia Earhart? What ever happened to the Marshmallow Man or the lead actors from Ghostbusters? What ever happened to good writing? A piece succint, incredibly witty and engaging with zero intentional grammatical errors. I have stumbled upon blogs where any regard to the rules of the English language have been abandoned like puppies bought at a wimp from the SPCA. I was reading one particular blog that had no proper sentence. It was peppered with web lingo, emoticons and weird words coined from some ancient tongue.

It was strange and very disturbing. Is this the voice of the youths? A voice that would not echo the intelligent and interesting play on words, phrases.. etc of yesteryear? Are we living in a world where one's feelings can now be aptly represented by a semi colon and a bracket on good days?

Crazy world we live in one ah...

In the face of adversity, the spirit will triumph

I don't know what irked me more. The fact that our guys team was playing a lacklustre game despite the numerous off court comments courtesy of the gals; or the fact that we faced a very argumentative and unclassy opposition. Fair enough maybe in the heat of competition, a few bad gestures were displayed, the tongue could not hold back and animosity reign over good sportsmanship. But when play is peppered by vulgar comments, taunting and personal attacks on non-players, i must take offence. The display was nothing short of disgraceful. It was a show of poor taste, lacking in class and total absence of grace.

I felt embarassed for the opponents. Knowing that such a conduct is not only ungentlemanly, but upon retrospect and reflection would indulge their senses in regret and shame. Such things come back to haunt you.

Fair enough, our side were not exactly the clean as a whistle team that one should have been, but our fouls were dealt with accordingly and within reasonable grounds.

So the guys and gals will battle it out tomorrow for the 3rd-4th placing match. A swansong match for a few of us. The end of a 4 month floorball crash course/training/campaign for most. But the departure from the common sight of wood and lacquer that greet us everytime we step into NTU SRC Indoor courts would remain.

I will remember, with the occasional sighting of our almost worn out blades on our sticks, bearing the marks of playing on a tarmac instead of a smooth parquet surface, that those scars could hold us closer to that dream of being more than anyone could. And so, i will remember every drop of sweat and tear that my team has shed for the sake of glory. And so, i will honour the bodies that screamed in agony because its owners played according to the propensity of the heart. And so, i will recognize every face, every voice that only spoke of courage and support. And so, i will remember that despite the many shortcomings everyone in the team had as imperfect people, for every 45 minutes on court, we were all in the company of champions.

Fusion Fuse

You know you are tired when everything feels "swollen". It's like your eyeballs have swollen to a size intolerable for your skull and your forehead wrinkles. So much light, information and images are channeled into your swollen eyeballs that you feel like screaming.

Then there is the sleeplessness. Yes, sleeplessness during extreme tiredness. Its about as ironic as having the world's largest collections of kitchen mittens when you are born without hands plus you don't cook like Martin Yan.

The cause?

I'd like to blame it on my hectic schedule but then it would require me to explain to everyone that 2 hours of school a day followed by a 3 hour training session is really too much for a healthy 22 year old to take. So i won't. I'll blame my poor time management and 13 hour sleeping marathons.

I saw Fishy Princess Caught A Falling Star. Yes, her name is as long as i made it to be. And yes, she looks as ridiculous as her name. I saw her perched over a railing (which i wished she would fall over), pink headband over her fishy forehead, her black plastic spectacles perched on her fishy nose (fish got nose one meh?!) and her fishy tongue!!! Only pictures of the Holocaust could be more disturbing. She has pictures of herself splayed all over her page. And its pictures of her and her water bottle, her tongue, her lame ass "cutesy" facial expression.. etc. Its like Hello Kitty but the Fish version plus tongue. Sounds like a bad first date kiss.

Jo went for a swimming IVP. She had 2 3rds, 2 4ths and a fifth position in her events. And a disqualification for a false start. I hope she managed to screw the officials for that false start.

The semi-final game is over and i can't say im relieved/happy/sad. Just oblivious. Or numb. The only things i'll take away from that match is the deep violent red bruises on my knees. A testament that girls with sticks can really be hazardous.

Now i feel like eating fish.

And the saints go marching in...

The goals have been scored, whistles blown, minutes given to deviant players, free hits, walls formed, jubilant charges onto the court when team mates find the net. A wild almost dangerous concoction of adrenaline, anxiety and euphoria.

ANd then there are the insane family ties within the team. Im mother of Joanne and twins Yogi and MEl. Gwen is also my "daughter", unfortunately in a drunken stupor i mistook the neighbour's daughter (her) as my own (Mel). i couldn't help it you see, Mel was born premature and looked nothing like Yogi. So their good for nothing father who was in trouble with the law at that time didn't have time to round up the kids and i had to grab the first kid i saw. Thankfully, i gave Joanne up to the Methodist Church at a very young age and she grew up the fine lady she is now thanks to the nuns. Yogi however is feeling very confused because he had to play the role of mother when i was in jail to Joanne and Mel, having to resort to snitching food from the Boy's Town canteen over the fence to feed his siblings. So maybe that's why he was vulnerable to the sexual advances of priest in training/counsellor for lost boys, One-hand Jon. This Malaysian-Swedish guy could not resist the smooth skin of young boys and lost control over himself.

Now, after revealing to Gwen that she is not my natural daughter, she can breathe easier over the fact that Yogi is not her real brother and all the "massages" she gave him would not result in a foetus bred from incest. SHe is however, filled with contempt and hate towards her "family" only to find solace in the company of Deming who she gets along very very well with. Eager to find a father figure in her life, Gwen falls in love with Deming. Little did she realize that Deming is actually my old neighbour and hence, her father!!

Deming's life is little less complicated. After his days as "pai kiah" of Geylang he mended his ways after being involved in a car accident with a karaoke lounge hostess Cherry Baby who lost her memory. Spurred by her beauty and new found innocence after the memory loss, Deming vowed never to let her know of her seedy Geylang Tauhuay Queen past and took her as his wife.

So who is Gwen's real mother? Will Deming ever find out that Gwen is his daughter? Will Gwen fall heads over heels in love with her own father? Will Yogi find a new masseur? Will One-hand Jon play one hand "chee koo pak" all his life?

The saga continues.............

A little less conversation...

It's nice to have a distraction/motivation/buzz. You step out of character, leave the pajamas, leave the folds in your quilt undisturbed. You trudge/psyche/push yourself to cross that mental barrier, a barrier erected by your own comforts/traits/routine.. which had only thus far, sustained but impeded your ability to be anyone else but you.

I am a person of action nowadays. My life revolves around floorball since IVP is well underway and i train more than i pee and i pee a lot usually. I find myself on the courts training till over 10pm each nite and waking up at 7am to train again.. i'm never apart from my team mates for more than 24 hours even on weekends. It's a strange symbiotic relationship. I need her as much as she needs me, besides it's impossible to braid my hair all by myself.

But at the end of the day, im so tired with training and school that i have no time for anything else. Which is good because i don't get to go to www.yahoo.com.sg/auctions anymore and start a spending frenzy on things i don't really need and miscellaneous goods.

I got a new phone which allows you to record MP3 songs and you have a playback option where you get to listen to your MP3s. ONly problem is that you must have a memory card and it doesn't come with the phone. Which is like an "Each sold separately" predicament. I'm thinking as to whether or not this practice is fair and whether or not it is the manufacturer's responsibility to give me a phone with all its features in working/usable condition. Because there is really no point in giving someone and MP3 player but yet not giving them the ability to access the option EASILY, since the reason why you integrate an MP3 player into a phone is for easy access. So accordingly, this option should be made readily available to the user WITHOUT conditions of use. A memory card is unlike batteries. Where batteries can be easily bought and obtained without much fuss and batteries do not have specific/unique to mechanism functions, you can buy any battery and the damn toy will still work. In contrast, a memory card is one that is unique to the brand, model and make of the phone, compatibility with other memory cards is questionable. This reinforces the fact that the memory card SHOULD be supplied by the manufacturer. WHat is it with these people?? WHat ever happened to corporate social responsibility?? I could sue them if i knew what to sue them for and under what acts. I'm thinking Unfair Trade Practices/ Never include memory card one, act.

Oh, i just found my memory card. It was in the box.