Just The First Of Many

And... it rolls to life again.

It's been almost a full month since I last posted. The sheer content of life in the last twenty days makes me feel like writing the entire blog in point form. Of course, doing so would serve virtually no purpose besides illustrating a level of sloth fast approaching sin.

Does the thesauraphilia get annoying sometimes?

I swear. You haven't seen anything yet.

I almost fell asleep driving to college this morning. Potentially fatal as though this might have been, I guess it really shouldn't come as a surprise. My grandmother's birthday party last night forced me to stay up until past two in the morning writing my four page-Psychology essays. Classes today were from eight to three, with a one hour break at twelve. I fell asleep sitting up during Maths, Chemistry and Biology. From three to four thirty I had a student council subcommittee meeting, and after that I dropped in to see the dance club at the ECA studio before for all of five minutes before heading home. I have to design a poster for a paintball tournament next week, consider doing a sample piece for the HELP Charity Auction on Friday, and get in touch with the Sheraton Imperial - a possible venue for the CAL '07 Prom in June. There's an e-mail in my inbox from the Taylors AIESEC about a meeting in the business school tomorrow... and I don't even plan to be in college then because our SPM results are due that morning. I'll have to keep checking my mail, too - Jason said he'd get back to us on the proposal for the Inter-College Dance Competition in April by the end of the week. Brian hasn't called me back to confirm practice tonight, but I don't think we have any other choice because our performance at INTI is this Friday (the same day as my Maths test) and we're running out of time. I have to finish my LAN video project by Monday, along with the slides for my Psychology presentation next Wednesday. Not to mention my regular homework.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my head of department at the Newsletter Club doesn't suddenly decide to contact me about next month's issue... despite the fact that he's long overdue.

I think... life probably doesn't get much better than this.

Some highlights of the past few weeks.

Alex's birthday party at Secret Recipe. Someone thought it'd be a good idea to send him diabetes in a box. I mean. Fifteen sticks of Mentos should be enough to kill a horse.

Somehow, neither I nor anyone else really took any pictures of people. The real star of the afternoon was this marvel of modern architecture anyway.

This is Alex. While there's nothing really exceptional about the above picture, I thought it would only be proper to include a snap of the birthday boy.

Free coffee day at Starbucks. Underestimating its potency, I added roughly four packets of white sugar and a further three packets of brown to my espresso. The resulting mixture took six hours to down. Refusing to waste even a single drop, I dutifully carried the cup to all my classes and even lunch. There's probably a lesson to be learned here.

The bomb scare at INTI. For one afternoon in late February, our adjacent college was literally the bomb.

The crowd gathered outside INTI was a perfect demonstration of the moths-to-a-flame cliche - human beings drawn to the scene of a tragedy, a cocktail of curiosity and anticipation overpowering the sense of self-preservation supposedly inherent in all higher beings. Darwin would have been appalled.

Though I must admit, an explosion would have been spectacular.

Our performance at the Taylor's SAM Fiesta last Thursday night was set against a backdrop of high drama, nerves and desperation. Okay, maybe there wasn't that much drama. But this is how it went down. When we first joined the Dance Club in late February, our president Jason mentioned a request by the SAM student council for a performance or two by the club's members at the event.

Auditions, he said, would be held soon.

And so we waited for these, but nothing came. By the weekend before the event, we'd pretty much given up on the possibility.

Then fate came knocking.

On the fourth of March - two days before the SAM Fiesta - we met in the ECA dance studio. Myself, Yee Mun, Shevie, Hsien Ming, Hui Ning, Melissa, Yuh Miin, Ivan, Huong Ket, Eric and Ching Yu. We were for the most part complete strangers to each other, in the studio that day for our own reasons. But when Ms Yeap came in to tell us the SAM Fiesta didn't have any performing crew, and asked us if we could please do something that night, although it was on extremely short notice, for who ever heard of a dance night without a dance performance? - none of it mattered.

That night, I called Ellen and Hau, who brought in Tze Shen, completing the crew.

For practice space, we put the old staff lounge next to the cafeteria to good use, even bringing in a couple of laptops and speakers. We had only two days, but we were determined.

And the rest, they say, is history (thanks to Shevie for the screens).

The video is shaky and the lighting awful, but you can get a rough idea of what we were doing on stage that night. Not enough and all too much at the same time. Well, under the circumstances...

The rest of the night was pretty awesome too. The dance floor at the SAM Fiesta, once it got warmed up, was one of the best I've ever experienced. The crowd danced wildly and sang along to hits like Me Love and Low. There was even a rapper, and the photographer could beatbox. All and any incidents of shuffling were brief and isolated.

Now that's how you throw a party.

Not all of us are in this picture, but... oh well.

Here's to the first of many.

The High Life

There are two notes of interest I would like to bring to your attention before we begin.

The first is this: high jumpers of Wesley Methodist School, please be informed that Lee Ju Hann is your God. He is a man not taller than myself, but he broke the 153 on his way to becoming the form four gold medalist. And did I mention he's in green house too?

This is Ju Hann. Well not really.

And the second: from what I've seen of them so far the form four dancers are really good. They were having concert auditions today and I watched them for a real long time cause it was hard to look away. The girls are pretty good, I noticed Ain, Carmen and Sandra, but the star of the show has to be Deepaq.

The guy mixes his indian moves with hip hop steps that make a solid if not unbeatable combination. From what I saw, looks like he's been watching You Got Served alot too. I recognized at least three sets from the movie.

I'm really nervous about how good they are since I don't wanna be in anything less than the best dance during this year's concert.

I can imagine how last year's form fives felt when the best dance wasn't by the form fives but the form fours and I would hate to have to go through that.

When I say that I mean this.

Last year when Keangston made his end of year speech he mentioned his experience in "the best dance in the concert" and I was like no Keangston you weren't in Grease... then it turns out he was talking about America and I was like yeah right get real man but I didn't say anything cause he was leaving school and everyone knew he was wrong anyway.

I don't want to say I'm in the best dance we've got unless that's really true.

We haven't got Brian, Sanjay or Jon and now that Brian's watched Stomp The Yard he's on fire with ideas for his African dance. And it's gonna be tough to one up him cause that movie was seriously good.

Screaming, hollering and awesomeness.

If we're the third best dance this concert I'm going to jump off a bridge.

Well not really.

That's all I had to say about stuff right now.

---

So you step back and breathe in. You loosen up, you stretch and you bounce a few times to make sure everyone knows it's you they should be watching.

And you feel their eyes on you as you're given the all clear and you run towards the bar, slowly for effect, and you feel their eyes on you, and you're starting to get a little nervous.

But as you draw nearer, the pressure evaporates, along with the crowd, and all that matters is you and the bar. Your mind frees itself of distractions as the bar looms ahead, and you speed up, already smiling because you've done it before and your body automatically knows what to do.

And your legs lift and you soar through the air.

The launch is perfect. The whole world slows down around you as you ascend, and your back arcs up and your head falls back.

For a moment, you're vaguely aware of the crowd again as their excitement reaches its peak. They're waiting to see if you pass, and you smile at their uncertainty.

In your mind, it's already done. And the truth is it was over long ago, the truth is it was over as soon as you made the decision to jump. All that remains is to clear the bar. And you do. Bright lights flash in your mind as every image burns a snapshot into your memory to savor over and over again.

Then you land intact, your back to the mat, and the crowd roars. The song of their applause and their cheers reach every fibre of your being. And your heart soars, flying even higher than you did just seconds ago. Then you rise, head held high and arms outstretched, savoring every moment. The moment lifts you on high as you run back to the starting point. You feel like their praise could give you wings.

They're still cheering.

It feels even better than being on stage. All those times you were an entertainer, but this time you're a hero.

The bar is raised. The others don't do so well but you're still brimming with confidence. You've cleared this height before and the audience has you pumped.

Your turn comes and you do everything the same, your mind working to remember all the steps and all the angles. But the bar draws closer and something's definitely wrong. But there's nothing you can do about it so you try anyway.

The launch is... less than perfect. The world slows down again but it doesn't last very long. You clear the bar but some part of you strikes it and it falls, and the crowd's disappointment is obvious. You shake your head slowly as you get up. It was close. You've cleared this height before. You can do it again.

So you try again. This time you scrape past the bar and for a moment you think you've made it, and so does the watching crowd. Then the bar shakes and falls, and you've got one more try.

You don't quite make it.

You could give any number of reasons why you failed, but somehow you feel like it was just bad luck. You're disappointed, but not devastated.

You gave it your all, though it wasn't your best. And that might not make sense to anyone else, but it means everything to you.

"Glory, Brian. One word. Glory." - Sanjay

How To Throw A Party

Blogger's Note: I was sick tired the whole day. I slept for three hours in the afternoon then I went online to blog this. It was a pretty bad idea to go on MSN since I couldn't think straight enough to even hold a conversation at the time, all the way up to dinner and even after dinner I felt like sleeping again.

Nescafe 3 in 1 + cadbury hot chocolate + cold milk = solved that problem

Should have thought of it earlier.

Step One

Decide where you want to have your party. An ideal location would be a house on top of a hill where it's windy all the time, especially at night.

If the house is a mansion which can be seen from any point in the surrounding countryside, even better.

Brian: Is that her house? How can we even see her house from here? It's like... dominating the whole mountain.

Step Two

Decide what you want your guests to do at your party. If the house has its own basketball court, outdoor tub, karaoke room, playstation and plasma TV you're pretty much settled.

Just make sure you have guests who can sing, and not act out chinese soap dramas on the mic instead.

Jason: Dim kai... DIM KAI!?!?
Jon: Why did Suat Lay install a torture room in her house?

Still, you might wanna invite a DJ or two along... just so someone can keep an eye on the music while you're having fun. A good choice might be someone you've had along on previous occasions... so they know what you like.

Jun Ian: Is that a sauna? It looks like a sauna. That had better not be a sauna.
Wai Khuin: Checking... it's a closet.
Jun Ian: If she had a sauna in her own house that would have been too much.

Step Three

Decide on all the elements of your party. What kind of food are you going to serve? What kind of music are the DJs going to play? Do you have a grand piano for the music purists? How many decks of cards are you going to provide? Is Liverpool playing Everton that night?

Tip: No-outs-street-style-basketball is a pretty cool game. Even when you can't actually play bastketball it's fun to be caught up in the insanity.

Jason: Grand piano, huh Rufus?
Rufus: I haven't touched it yet. I'm... resisting the temptation.

If you want the people to dance, make sure the floor is right and the music is good. Make sure you know what tunes your crowd likes, and make sure those tunes are played.

It's My Life, Satisfaction, Everytime We Touch, Tokyo Drift, Beep, Sexy Back, YMCA, Shake Ya Tailfeather, Dragostea Din Tei and Pump It are good choices.

Still, sometimes you have to make sure the DJ updates his list with songs that were released sometime during the last year, and not play Good Charlotte or Linkin Park for no good reason.

George Michael's Never Gonna Dance Again was also completely uncalled for.

More than one person: What the fu-

When allowing your guests to watch a game, make sure the room is properly divided into two halves. Allow the Liverpool supporters to sit on one side and the non-Liverpool supporters on the other.

Do not let the one guy with the Liverpool jersey sit in the middle of all the non-Liverpool supporters. It's bad karma.

Jenq Yan: All Everton this side... Liverpool over there.
Jun Ian: What about him?
Jenq Yan: Traitor.

I have to go OOC for awhile and describe what it was like to watch the game in that house on that TV with those people.

It was electric.

Like I mentioned, the room was split in half except for Jing Hang, snug in the midst of the people who didn't support Liverpool or Everton, but didn't want to see Liverpool win anyway.

The TV was in a room that was practically all balcony with a roof. The wind was blowing in from all sides and it was almost like we were in Genting or something. Only not so cold.

Anyone who actually watched the match would have known how Everton played something like 1-0-9, and how many times Liverpool almost, almost scored.

Wai Khuin watched the game from Suat's grandfather's chair in deep concentration, not making a sound the entire 90 minutes.

Jenq Yan: FLOWER!

For those of you who were not there, he meant Robbie Fowler.

Step Four

If the party is a birthday celebration, insist on following the tradition of pulling one candle out of the cake with one's mouth.

You are encouraged to push only slightly so that the tip of the nose and maybe the chin goes into the cake instead of just wasting the whole thing and covering the newly-turned seventeen year old's face with icing.

Happy Birthday Suat Lay!