It means you touch nature. Walk in the rain. Dance in the rain. Feel the rain dancing upon your cheeks! Sniff the air after a downpour. Gaze up upon the night sky and look out for stars wherever you are.

It means you see beauty in the world. Be more than just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by. Take time to admire the beauty of both nature and architecture.

It means you go to the museum or that art gallery that you’ve always wanted to see but “never had time for”. It means you go bungy jumping, skydiving, or whatever it is you’ve always feared doing. You just do it, because life is too short for hesitations.

It means you accept yourself for what you are, and at the same time be able to balance the need between self-acceptance and growth.

It means you forgive yourself. Forgive yourself for all the things that you did, all the things that you didn’t do, and all the things that you should have done. You can’t get stuck on the regrets of what should have happened.

It means you taste life. Have some chocolate even if it does make you fat. And ice cream with chocolate syrup on top. And marshmallows!

It means you laugh out heartily at least once a day. And be able to laugh at yourself.

It means you do the one thing you think you cannot do. Fail at it. Try again. Do better the second time. The only people who never tumble are those who never mount the high wire.

It means making time because time is precious. Spend time only on the things and people that matter. Be wise and strong enough to be able to tell which are the ones that don’t matter. Don’t waste time fooling around, playing the field, or on insincere people because time spent is the one thing that can never be regained.

It means you love. And you love unconditionally and deeply. You take risks even if you’ve been hurt before, because you can’t get stuck on all the ghosts of the past. It means to be passionate and devoted and dedicated and committed. It means you allow someone to take care of your heart, and not be afraid of paying the price for being this passionate.

It means you go out of your way to help a stranger in need. Be kind to everyone and anyone and all animals too! It means you stop counting the dollars and cents.

It means you pick up a foreign language! Or a new musical instrument. You listen to the music of life. You embrace different cultures. The only colour of people that you see is the colour of their character.

It means you are strong enough to not be “poisoned” into being or doing what society says. If the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it. Create your own.

This post is written at a time when I’m feeling lost and trying to find peace in my life and heart. I strongly recommend the book Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom, which has inspired certain lines in this post. Feel free to add on to the list!

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Much as I would like it to be, this entry isn’t about beer. This friend from India (interestingly he is not of the Indian race) is easily one of the most colourful characters among the people I know. Through our conversation, I got to know some really intriguing things about India. Their dowry system, in particular. The conversation we had went something like this:

Friend: so in India, we have the dowry system.
Me: yeah I know that one. The bride’s family has to give a large sum of money to the groom’s family right?
Friend: right. It is strange because not only does the bride’s family “lose” a daughter, they lose a large chunk of their wealth at the same time.
Me: how much would the dowry be usually?
Friend: well, it depends on the status of the two families.
Me: say if someone were to marry you, how much would it be?
Friend: taking into consideration my current job and my salary, and the fact that it requires me to travel around the world…
Me: yeah…
Friend: …the dowry would be equivalent to millions of Singapore dollars in relative terms.
Me: (horrified) millions?!
Friend: yeah!

Seriously, millions? Who would be able to afford that? Even for the rich, millions of dollars is still a lot of money! I still can’t get over it even after three days.

He also mentioned that up to today, there are still many arranged marriages in India. The parents get to decide who their children marry. Now, not only would the woman’s family have to give his family a large sum of money, she does not even get to marry someone she loves!

So, why do Indian women still get married?

My friend couldn’t answer this question. Nor could his Indian friends.

One more thing. If the bride’s family could afford a large dowry, it would mean she’s wealthy enough to fend for herself. What would she need a husband for? I just don’t get it. Am I being too practical and missing something here?

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5. She avoids your gaze and hardly makes eye contact. She’s happier looking down and around, at her food, at the surroundings, in fact anywhere else but you.

4. She does not appear to be interested in the things you say. She lets you do all the talking. Her replies are simply “yes”, “no”, or more frequently, “uh-huh”.

3. She ignores your calls and messages.

2. She makes sure you are aware that she is seeing other guys.

And the number one sign…

She tells you straight to your face that she’s not interested in you, and backs it up with facts and reasons, letting you know exactly where you fall short (because you asked).

Jesus! What more can a girl do?

Okay I’m aware that I’m probably sounding a little bitchy right now. But frankly, the only thing that’s more annoying than a guy that wouldn’t stop going after a girl who’s clearly not interested, is a guy who wrongly assumes that she is.

Read the signs. Quit finding other reasons for her behaviour. Please.

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Being in the company of guy friends most of the time means that I’m used to witnessing all kinds of disgusting acts. Hell, I’m even guilty of some of these myself. I mean, I do know my manners, like not burping, and not talking with bits of food spurting out of my mouth. But I would eat food off the floor in an instant as long as it looks clean.

Yet when I saw someone drinking from a half-empty cup right out of a random trash can, I had to look away.

After having dinner with my Mom at Chinatown, we waited for our bus at the bus stop. A frail and skinny old man that looked about 80 caught our attention (and many others). He was collecting empty aluminum drink cans from a trash can. This is a common everyday sight, but it’s still extremely sad to witness. Everyone there who was waiting for their bus watched and scrutinised his every move. Every single one of us there was so much better off than him. Yet all we did was stood there. And stared. And judged.

Then, my Mom suddenly said to me in an urgent manner, “Look! He’s going to drink that!” I turned and saw that he had fished out an item from the trash can. His prize catch? A transparent cup that was still half filled with a white-coloured drink. And sure enough, he slurped it all down. Can you imagine that? I was so flabbergasted I couldn’t help but start tearing up.

Here I am, dining at nice places most of the time and eating myself fat when I’m not even hungry. Not too far away there are people who are so poor they have no choice but to eat out of a trash can! I had never felt more disgusted with myself. Dammit.

We gave some money to the old man and spoke with him for a while. The only family he has left are his two sisters. He has no children of his own. And at his age, he obviously can’t get a job. Come to think of it, he’s not even that different from you and me. At the end of the day he’s just a normal person trying to make ends meet, to survive.

With the impending increase in GST (which I’m very unhappy about), would it really help the needy as promised? Would there be less homeless people sleeping in the cold every night? Would we see less elderly people collecting and selling cardboard and used cans for a living? Or would it simply go towards increasing the salary of our civil servants? Our ministers are already among the highest income earners of their league in the world!

I don’t have much confidence in the justification of such price increments levied on consumers. Despite the frequent fare adjustments (read: hikes) in public transport, I haven’t sensed any improvement in my daily commute. I still wait half an hour for my bus every morning. I still sit in leaky buses that have their own rainy climate. It seems the bus company has decided the best way to spend its money is on useless stuff like TV Mobile and its ridiculous “Flag the bus early” campaign. Argh!

But I digress. The purpose of this blog entry is to highlight the fact that there really are a lot of poor people in our community. And more importantly, we can help them! If you are reading this blog, chances are you are already living well enough to have your own internet connection, or at least the ability to find one.

As of blogging this, I pledge to help by giving a minimum of $2 to every elderly person I see that’s collecting used cans for a living. $2 isn’t much, but it is enough to buy him or her a warm meal. Besides I know if I started off with more than $2, I may not be able to keep it going for long. Who’s with me?

Oh it doesn’t even have to be money. If you’re feeling poor you can always help by giving away food! A pastry from BreadTalk or something. I gave away food a few times before and the recipients seemed just as grateful!

If one out of every five people that read this blog would pledge to do the same, we would be effectively helping *do a quick count* A LOT of people!

What say you? What say you?

(All right since no one asked, that last line is said by Aragorn in the Return of the King.)

December 6, 2006: Good news! On my way to work today I gave away my first $2 (since this pledge) to an old man collecting cans near my home. He asked if I won the lottery. He also said that for every kilogram of cans he collects, he gets $1.50. $1.50! How many trash cans does he have to rummage through to collect a kilogram’s worth? Those recycling companies are certainly not charitable.

I’m not doing too well. This is my final semester and I just have this feeling that I would be coming out of the school of computing with nothing learnt. It’s quite depressing. Lately, I’ve been wondering how I can get through this last semester and what lies in store for me after graduation. Up until now, I have no idea what career path to take. The irony about being in the school of computing is that it has made me hate computing, and I doubt I would enter the IT field next time. What I really love is doing design, or writing, and I don’t have the relevant degree for either of these.

For the final year project, we have formed teams of six to develop an integrated resort management system using j2ee. We held our first group discussion on Friday. I was very disappointed that I couldn’t contribute much, and I fear it would continue to be that way. What I can contribute is probably in terms of design. I would love to design the whole web portal that is required. The design component would play a part of the grading, but it is still hardly the emphasis of this project.

I just feel so goddamn depressed.

But a yummy slice of cheesecake never fails to cheer me up. Following that depressing four-hour-long discussion was dinner at secret recipe. The strawberry shake was not too sweet so that’s good.

Tom yam spaghetti. I seemed to have eaten it before at the secret recipe outlet in City Square, Johor Bahru before. It was not too shabby.

And the yummy cheeze chocolate cake! Secret recipe serves the best cheesecakes in town man, really. The cream cheese filling is very rich, yet light at the same time so you don’t get sick eating it.

Speaking of food, udon-bo at the Takashimaya food basement serves a mean chicken teri don with lotsa chicken meat, for only $4.50! It comes with a bowl of miso soup too. Cheap! People should hurry there before they raise their prices.

I’m also having this tcc craze lately and visiting the tcc boutiques every opportunity I get. I’m trying to accumulate enough receipts to become a tcc member. I love tcc for their wide selection of coffee, great service, and the artful design of all their boutiques; every single outlet looks unique! The café royal flambe I had yesterday was the first liquor coffee I ever had. Notice the blue flame around the sugar cube.

The coffee came first, to which the waitress added brandy from a fancy-looking golden flask. The sugar cube was placed on a teaspoon on the brim of the coffee cup. Once the sugar cube had soaked in the brandy, the waitress ignited it. After it melted, the waitress stirred it in, and the coffee was ready. Wow! A flaming coffee cocktail!

The mon cheri came with a leaf on the froth, and a pretty pink layer on the bottom. It looked good but tasted quite crappy and way too sweet.

Potato wedges.

Something interesting I spotted on the way home was this black sign on the ground at the bus stop near Orchard Cineleisure. It read “take drugs and you could spend 12 months in a cell this size with 2 other people.” it was probably about 2 by 1.5 meters. It surprised me because I thought jail cells were bigger than that, and this tiny cell was supposed to fit three people. It seemed a pretty effective way of letting people know that drug takers would not be let off lightly in Singapore.

Anyway, it’s my mom’s birthday today. We got her a cute-looking cake in the shape of a face from Angie the Choice. It tasted yummy! Not too sweet and the chocolate cream was heavenly. I finished my slice within a minute.

Mom looked so happy just now, like the smiling cake. Happy birthday, mom!

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First things first, I filled out a form with my personal particulars and health information. Then they gave me a sticker to wear that read “treat me nice. This is my first donation.” that was cute! I had my blood pressure taken and did a blood test to check if I have sufficient iron. Finally, I was ready to give away my blood!

I was a little scared at first when I saw the room through the glass doors with all the people getting their blood drawn. They had to squeeze a red rubber heart continuously so that their blood would be drawn more quickly. That looked painful!

Once I was seated on a high chair, the people there treated me super nicely (like what my sticker said). The lady checked my right arm, then decided my left arm had a vein that was more suited for the blood to be drawn.

She rubbed disinfectant all over the area, then injected a painkiller. Finally, the big hollow needle with the long tube went in and immediately, the tube was coloured in red. I was given a heart-shaped squeeze ball that I had to squeeze every five seconds. Boy, was my left arm feeling all weak by that time. Watching the bag at the side slowly filling up with my blood only made me feel weaker.

450 millilitres of blood was drawn from me. In addition they also took away three or four test tubes of blood to conduct tests, which I thought was quite a waste. Then they let me choose the colour of the gauze to wrap around the wound. I chose pink! With purple hearts!

Mensa was founded in England in 1946 by Roland Berrill, a barrister, and Dr. Lance Ware, a scientist and lawyer. They had the idea of forming a society for bright people, the only qualification for membership of which was a high IQ. The original aims were, as they are today, to create a society that is non-political and free from all racial or religious distinctions. The society welcomes people from every walk of life whose IQ is in the top 2% of the population, with the objective of enjoying each other”s company and participating in a wide range of social and cultural activities.

Yay!

Okay, I know there’s gonna be people reading this and thinking “yeah, like that’s a big deal”, and coincidentally (or not) they would tend to be guys. Well you know what? It IS a big deal, thank you very much.

I always get male chauvinists that try to argue with me over things they don’t even have a clue about, and only because they can’t stand losing to a girl in an argument. It gets bloody annoying.

Next time I’ll just slap them with my Mensa card.

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