2nd week of the unofficial holiday and half of it was spent once again by the puke bucket, pills in hand, mourning like an 80 year old.

It scares me how often I fall ill these days. Four incidents in 6 months, that’s like ageing. I’m not ageing I’m not ageing I’m not ageing. I should do tai qi. Go Vegan? Not a possibility in this lifetime unfortunately. Puking is not fun. You get so tired the days after. The kidneys hurt.

But now that I’m eating again - though the smell of the food I love most (oily, greasy, buttery) is revolting still – I got to meet up with the Sbones last night at Val’s. Four years. Now Josh is on a Vespa (that I almost stole last night), Andrew is still Andrew with his cheeky eyes, Alee has pink hair, Joy is going vroom vroom, Jeremy is going Trump-way, Val is, Val... and I wonder how the rest are doing.

These gatherings, they have a natural way of mellowing as the years pass (recall J1 activities: throwing people into the pool. J2: drinking games) Now, we sit around a dinner table - and talk. Switch seats, talk.

And I like it when we talk.

This morning, I met up with my all time favorite breakfast partner. Albeit for a short time, I feel so blessed to have Shan as a friend – to talk about the travels we have not yet made, but might one day soon, to talk about what is to come, and how people are.

I’m happy people are returning home. It makes summer, summer.

But godliness with contentment is great gain.

For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.

There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God.

Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.

I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.

For man also knoweth not his time: as the fishes that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds that are caught in the snare; so are the sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them.

But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves

Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.

The holidays are sweet things. Long breakfasts in front of the tv watching Ellen, lounge and tea sessions with friends not seen for too long the heart pines for more, doing the jb-run with pops (only to get a summon this time cause jb police decides to retaliate to public’s petition of them sleeping by booking people for no reason: seriously, what next).

The days have also been filled helping the cousins out for the wedding, creating a photo show that is as schmaltzy as Decoder Ring’s Somersault (which has been used as the theme song alongside Nouvelle Vague, Jason Mraz and Jack Johnson – what a weird mix!), and visiting Rach at CommunicAsia! (where I also commented to Tiffy that Timothy Go’s camo jacket was yucky only to have him standing next to me. Becky you’re such a star.)

And of course, preparation for D-Day + all the circles I’m happily running around in.

With about 3 weeks left to 14 July, I’m close to shitting my pants.

Running a non-profit event, on a very (almost nonexistent) limited budget, with God-sent angels who have to juggle with a lot more stuff on their individual plates, for a cause that is slowly fading as more and more people feel the detachment from the alma mater – we need hope.

Where do we find it? I am now on my knees.

Why do we need Past vs Present? I can give you 1024 reasons why I don’t have to be doing this.

But I want to, not for myself (I’d be crazy) if this is what you presume, but for this: to show the present students, what the past knew of a culture we grew up in. This culture, which has clearly vanished, people now ask “what culture?” needs to be revealed gently or harshly it doesn't matter - it just needs to be shown and reminded that it's still around. Idealistic? Yes! Cause we’ve experienced it, and we know it, and before it is extinct for good, Past vs Present needs to go on, every year, I don’t know of anything else that could salvage this beautiful thing we were blessed to know (God bless the soul who intitiated this event). Romanticized? Yes. And slushy and mushy and bright and gay.


It’s toughest, when the people you wished cared more, don’t.

But we do what we can ya?
We do what we can, and God help us.

14 July will come, and we will have fun, the way we know.

To celebrate the end of the internship, we went into JB at 9pm by bus, walked towards our hotel, passing dodgy coffee shops brimming with lecherous men, sneaked six into a deluxe, supper-ed at Taman Sri Tebrau, glorious food I still dream of the you tiao, made too much noise through the night someone called the room at 3.15 am to shut us up, wanted to enjoy the bubbles and sun but no sun and bikinis most probably would have gotten us stoned, so no bubbles but mahjong and talking instead, before a day at oxymoronic singapore mall in johor bahru, food massages and pedicures for everyone.

I don’t think there could have been a better way to celebrate the end of this 6-mth slog, but with these bunch of people I met at year one, and am going into the final year with in 2 months time. To be able to part of this group, despite the many changes in the past three years, I really count a blessing. Thanks sweets for being such an awesome gang to hang out with. Love.


thanks sharon for the pics!

air france - beach party // never content
the cinematic orchestra - to build a home // time & space// familiar ground
nouvelle vague – i melt with you // o pamela
arcade fire - in the back seat
the pipettes - judy // because it’s not love
jose gonzales - heartbeats
rosie thomas - much further to go // say hello
kayne, pharrell, lupe fiasco - us placers
patrick park - life is a song
james morrison - the last goodbye // this boy
peter bjorn and john - up against the wall
let’s go sailing - sideways
ville valo & natalia avelon - summer wine (strawberries cherries and an angel’s kiss in spring…)
el perro del mar – you gotta give to get

***

my favorite pop stars

Derrick and I went for the taping of CNN Future Summit a few weeks back. Only just found the time to get the camera out i've been lazy. It was a good topic, but no conclusion so I'm interested to see how they intend to edit the footages. It premieres 13th June so if you want to watch us looking awkward on tv, Channel 14, right there. Kristie Lu Stout is totally non pedigree: smart and hot.


Bought the entire Elie Wiesel series after putting it off for too long. Now I await long breakfasts days to remove the ten new books from my shelf.

As a prelude, I started on The Motorcycle Diaries.

"And so, the coin was thrown in the air, turning many times, landing sometimes heads and other times tails. Man, the measure of all things, speaks here through my mouth and narrates in my own language that which my eyes have seen. It is likely that out of 10 possible heads I have seen only one true tail, or vice versa.

In fact, it's probable, and there are no excuses, for these lips can only describe what these eyes actually see. Is it that our whole vision was never quite complete, that it was too transient or not always well-informed?" - Ernesto Che Guevara


Y ya siento flotar mi gran raiz libre y desnuda..

Today during breakfast, while I sat on the bench spreading tuna on crackers, mommy talked about her wedding.

We always knew of the wedding through the photos and stories of The Wine Glass-Tiered cake baked by the Pastor’s wife, green spot right out of the bottles, neatly carved pineapple shells, the white car Uncle Chan drove, Eugene the sick page boy, the auditorium overflowing with people, yellow flowers.

In all my years of understanding, flipping through the wedding book that plays the musical tune, I never knew that on the day of my parent’s wedding, it almost did not happen.

The grandfathers, from two different cultures, wanted the wedding their way. The late grandpa wanted a Syrian Orthodox priest to bless ma. Ah Kong wanted the Chinese ceremonies, the big wedding dinner, the red and ra-ra, for his first son.

My folks, on the other hand, wanted a simple church wedding. No whims and fancies, just a time for friends and family to get together to witness their commitment to God. They were challenged by their siblings into binding to the traditions and religions of their parents, lest they be non-filial.

The morning my parents got married, my mother had cried the night before, and my dad went for his swim.

Because there is a happily every after to this, the day my parents got married, both my grandfathers, who wanted the wedding their ways, ended up not wanting. Came to the church in suits, and the wedding, went my parents’ way.

Mommy concluded, while I sat on the bench, still spreading tuna on my crackers: Becky, you must never compromise your stand to the Lord. He will always triumph, and it will always be beautiful in the end.

“My generation's apathy. I'm disgusted with it. I'm disgusted with my own apathy too, for being spineless and not always standing up against racism, sexism and all those other -isms the counterculture has been whinning about for years.”

- Kurt Cobain, no less.