National Day 2007

last evening we broke bread at this place called Brotzeit (in Vivo) which actually sort of translates into "breaking bread" ('brot'=bread and 'zeit'=snacking, hanging out?)!!!

Mr C had requested for a table with a TV to watch the NDP because nobody else but he (him?) was excited about it. he said the colour code for the night was red. argh.

some b/g info: there was a red top i wanted to wear but i was in no condition after MAMBO the night before, that ended at dawn. i got home at 5am, crashed and got my wakeup calls at 11.30am so i can be in time for tuition at 1pm, church meeting at 3pm and to leave for dinner at 5.15pm. mrs C french-braided my hair, i LOVE IT!!!! LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT!!!!!!!)

so yes, back to the colour code. well, i wore off red, most of the others wore red, except mrs C and Milo (and both said they were not Singaporeans anyway! hmph!) i actually don't really feel the patriotism, it was just a breach of the colour code that i was fussing about. haha. Milo's Daniel wore pink because he said, well, red and white together became pink! -_-

we had pork knuckles, salad, whole plates of different kinds of ham, beef ghoulash, beer, a red and a sparkling white. we watched the NDP and felt patriotic when the old songs like "Count On Me, Singapore", "One People, One Nation, One Singapore" and "We Are Singapore" were sung. people's eyes were all glued to the TV, including the wait staff! it was quite heartwarming to see.

ruby-doo and i stood up at different points to fake our loyalty to the nation. ahaha.

my stand on this is the same as mr C's. we feel patriotic towards the country and what it has become... but not towards the *beep*. now, of course, people will say the country is what it is because of the *beep*. *duh*. of course i know that. i admire their work. i just dislike the entire pledge cos it's not real. it's a farce. and i had whole-heartedly believed our nation was as what we pledged, when i was a child. oh well. nothing much to it lah. but yes, i know *beep* has done a good job. yaay. ok. whatever.

the dinner was costly. i'm starting to fret over how much money the Cs spend on us. but mr C has been so troubled for so long. he's had a tough year... sometimes, you wonder why some people's crosses are heavier than others. in any case, he had desired to go to Brotzeit with us for so long and we finally did it... i'm glad he had a relaxing time amongst friends and family.

it was a good evening. the wine was excellent.

i showed the women the picture of the pussy cake! everyone was thrilled enough. except Milo who said it didn't look like that! ahahahahaa!!!!!! mr C was of course, curious. the KPO that he is, he had to observe out loud that only the women were shown the picture. yeah well!!!

my hair was the winner last night too. i don't care what others say. my hair was the nicest looking hair. :P

Happy National Day to one and all.

Majulah Singapura!

*yawn*

children @ Pasir Ris Park

a bunch of us are contemplating co-owning a dog.

why? because when we were at Pasir Ris Park last Saturday and playing our games on the fields, it had become apparent that a dog was missing from the picture.

one can fantasise.

so that was Aug 4. we threw another one of our usual surprise parties for KenTiger and Eccentric. arrived at destination with our usual rations of snacks, chips and drinks that can feed a battalion.

the surprising bit was we drank very little and exercised so much!

we played frisbee, Captain's Ball (that helped me get some abs from all the laughing... i literally had to roll over to catch my breath from the laughing), soccer, and a mix of all. we also spent an hour or two at the playgrounds, climbing, spinning, flying, sliding, acting like children.

Lion tried to catch me to throw ice down my shirt after i did that to them... but i ran faster than him! he couldn't outrun me! neither could Eccentric!

i am proud of myself. :D

that night, i missed Eccentric a lot. he'll be leaving next year for Seattle and if all goes as planned, he will settle down there. the thought of that finality dawning on me made me miss him so much already. my friend, my brother, finally growing up and leaving home. *sigh*

Eccentric was my first friend in CJC. he was such a promising young man then, spirited and he had so much vigour in him. he was also such a happy, young man. then his love left him and after that, he changed completely. guess what? she's the one he's marrying in Seattle next year! life is strange, isn't it?

through these last 10 years, Eccentric and i have always remained close even though we don't hang out constantly. a couple of years back, i tried to drop him as a friend. i don't know... i'm the kind of girl who can take a lot of shit. a lot. and then one day, when i have had enough, i will just turn and walk away. and i wouldn't care less. i can be very, very cold. but that can be temporary. if i don't turn back, that's it. i've cut you out of my life. if i do turn back, i will most likely never let go again.

so i just left him. i never said anything to him. one Saturday night at Walaz, i was there with my friends and he happened to be there too. i actually felt irritated. and he looked awkward. but we said hello. after a few drinks had probably eased the tension in us, he came over and apologised without knowing what's wrong. to that point, we never officially fell out. nothing had happened. he said something to the effect that he treasures me very much and cannot lose me as a friend. he was close to weeping and so was i actually. so i told him why i get so fed up with him and he says he will change and be more of a friend, etc. so we hung out together that night and literally holding each other.

and i have never tried to leave him since though sometimes i still want to slug him! but he's my brother... so that night at Pasir Ris Park, we got to hang out on our own and i know i'm going to miss him next year.

FYI, Fisherman's Village is almost entirely gone, save for a couple of eateries still around. the first time i set foot on Fisherman's Village, also with potato, i fell for the place. to see all those lights littering the stretch of the beach, to hear the waves and smell the seawater, to listen to the chatterings and laughter, and sip wine on that beach... what's not to like? we had said if we got married, we would get married there. i would've still wanted to get married there, with whoever the groom is but it's almost gone!!!

better get married soon.

Hen/Stag Nite-2/2

surviving the stripper, we headed down to our neighour Zouk.

ah. Zouk on Wednesday nights. who hasn't heard of it... MAMBO's the word, MAMBO's the game, MAMBO's the timeless draw.

Collie and Harbinger had gotten together at MAMBO too. back in those days, some 10 years ago now, we used to go on Wednesdays. i remember Harbinger coming with us. we didn't mind cos Collie wanted him around. and he turns out to be great fun to hang out with too, in those days. of course, things have changed. he's not just FUN but a friend now.

potato used to be around with his friends too. that's incidentally, also indirectly one of the times that started us going out. i remember one time potato was lying on the pavement outside Zouk, stoned. Collie and i were just leaving and i spied him on the ground. i wanted to talk to him but was shy and she dragged me over to him! he said he was alright and i said he's obviously not. and he was going to drive home too. so he wanted to smoke and i grabbed his pack of cigarettes and threw it behind me, over a fence. gosh!!! i wonder why he didn't slap me. it's almost sacrilegious. but we still laugh about that now... it was amazing.

almost a year later, we met again at MAMBO. he had been in the army for sometime now and had been MIA. we said hello and left our friends to go outside for a chat. he asked if i wanted a drink and i said i needed water actually. so we went to Wine Bar and i ordered an Evian and he, a Bourbon Coke. the waitress said, "Evian costs $8." i went, "WHAT!!!" and she repeated, "yes, it costs $8." potato said, "yes, give her the Evian." awww... sucker, haha. i still can't get over how Evian can cost more than Bourbon.

oh well. it would've been nice if potato was around now. would've been fitting. but he would probably not feel the same way, thinking i'm "juvenile". but you know what? i AM! *giggles*

so yes! when we were younger, we used to arrive as early as 7-8ish to get our entry chop, head for dinner before coming back to waltz past the guards.

we didn't do that this time.

as a result, we couldn't get in. well, we gave up. Eccentric had queued for slightly over an hour to get in. we started at 10pm and was still at the end of the queue by 11pm. as Harbinger said, we broke a record that night for being as far back in the line as we were at.

:(

so we went to KBOX at Selegie. which was alright. sang many songs, sang and sang. we got a HUGE room, for 15 or so people. and still, there were only 2 mics. grrr....

we were actually aiming to go back to Zouk much later but then got word that it was Full. *kwy*

we wanted so much to relive our old days... be back in MAMBO...

at 2am, Chinny got a call to say we could enter Zouk through Velvet and off we went! *half tired*

Velvet was Velvet. nice. we got in at 3am but were only allowed to go to Zouk at 3.30am. the saving grace was that Zouk was set to close only at 5.30am that night. or morning.

well, when we eventually got in, MAMBO was every bit as i remembered it. the last time i went there was with Blue Caps and his friends... where he had gotten drunk and ended up sleeping at the traffic light post and me exhausted, sitting there too, contemplating just sleeping there... it would, after all, have been easier than to convince him to get up.

so yes! Eccentric said he was near the DJ booth... which we tried to get to but gave up. and as we stopped shuffling towards the DJ booth, who should we run into but Eccentric himself! *haha* i love you guys.

he had been with a few CJCians who happened to have headed to MAMBO too. strange, weird world. maybe because it was a public holiday the next day, which explains why there were working adults there, and not just school kids and army boys.

one thing that's different about MAMBO as a sign of the changing times, retro includes songs from the 90s now too. so when they eventually played something from the 80s, people went mad.

it was a good night. it was great fun. i hardly drank nor smoked... i simply danced and danced... not having fully recovered from the Pasir Ris evening too. the music was great, i was lost in reliving those times... it felt like i came home to MAMBO. *hahahahaaa*

oh. i want to concede that the no-smoking rule in clubs might actually work well for me. the air smelt clean. and i smoked a lot less!

The Hen/Stag Nite-1/2

it took 10 years to arrive at this day... and of course, Collie and Harbinger being Collie and Harbinger, we celebrated the hen and stag nite together.

a room at Copthorne: i rushed there to catch a nap before the night begins and only just managed to fall asleep when Snow White called. grrr......

after another 45 minutes or so, we were all ready to have dinner at Pontini. the food was blardy expensive! damn!

but here comes the fun bit. Gomma's Ms Wilson knows someone who knows someone who once made a dick cake. hmmm... that is, a cake fashioned in the exquisite details of a dick. so they had suggested to friend of the friend to make a pussy cake too! which the friend of the friend said she would try... and i have to say, succeeded much better at!

we had the waiters and waitresses serve the cakes to the hen and stag. there were mirrors surrounding us in Pontini so patrons at Pontini who had missed the cakes while they were brought by the waiters should have had a good look in the mirrors. *blush*

there was an FLS counsellor having dinner at Pontini that night too, who craned her neck to catch a look of Dick and Pussy. i believed she would've seen me as i had seen her. it wasn't exactly crowded. but since we took such pain to avoid saying hello, why bother to after right? but it tickles me to think of what might have run through her head as she saw me with those cakes.

i will love to post the picture of the cakes here but they look too gross, especially Pussy. it looks so real!!! *gosh*

so dinner is over.

we got a stripper too. well, actually, Snow White got the stripper. i dislike strippers cos i had a bad experience with one, let's call him Adams, 3 years ago now. almost exactly 3 years ago actually... that hen night was for an ex-friend who got married in August as well.

Adams was this really small guy (i might be able to pick him up if i can bear to touch him), extremely short and fair. he's *not bad* looking... well, kinda boyish with spiky hair. but he can't dance and he doesn't even come across as sleazy. he's just... *duh*. i remember waiting for his time to be up as he was dancing around the hotel room 3 years ago. i don't know what the hype is about getting strippers. they definitely ain't that great. at least this one wasn't.

incidentally, Snow White mentioned the stripper's name was Adams as well. so that got me remembering how icky Adams was. but what are the chances right. still, it was worth mulling over especially when Short Fart described him as "short" and "very fair" too.

so yes, Snow White got the stripper and we were in a frenzy because we had to get back to the hotel room by 930pm sharp and Pontini had taken too long a time to serve our dinners. then the stripper was late so we ended up with time to kill after we had rushed through our dinner. Chinny and i went for a smoke to stall for time and even that wasn't enough.

anyway, we eventually returned to the hotel room and lo and behold, the stripper stepped into view............

............... and..................

it WAS Adams. the one and same Adams. -_- Adams with more wrinkles now.

*kill me*

so we sat through his session.

by the way, strippers don't necessarily strip to nudity. it depends on what you ask for and how much you are willing to spend. which we didn't ask for and we are unwilling to pay for as well. THANK GOD.

ps: don't ever get me a stripper if i ever get married. i dislike it. yucks.

Goodbye, Father Fossion

The only time I have ‘encountered’ Father Fossion was on Pentecost, May 2004. I was only a one-month-old Catholic then. I remember helping with the church decoration for our feastday that year and then rushing into church for the 11.00am Mass. I was told the Archbishop and Father Fossion were guest celebrants. I don’t even know what that meant to me, not knowing what an ‘archbishop’ was, much less to be able to comprehend who Father Fossion was. All I knew was that he used to be a priest at Holy Spirit, a good priest – but then, in all my one-month of being a Catholic, all priests are good! – so there was little to distinguish him except that he was supposed to be really old.

At 11.00am, the bell rung for Mass and the congregation stood for the entrance hymn. The altar boys, lectors and priests processed into church. I was peering to get a good look, as that was a High Mass, the grandest one besides Easter Vigil that I had ever experienced then, and when the entourage finally came into view, I saw an old European priest struggling down the aisle and Father David reaching out to help him as he made his way to the sanctuary.

I remember that vividly because as he came into sight, and I saw how frail and determined he was, I choked on a sob. And I found myself weeping at that sight – I was simply moved, and I wasn’t the only one. I don’t know what happened. I never met the man, never knew anything at all of him but that sight of him huddling along gave me a glimpse into the kind of shepherd he was.

I don’t remember if he gave the homily that year but when he spoke, he made some comment about how unnecessary it was for a church to be air-conditioned and looking so smart and beautiful. And he expressed all this in a most disgruntled way.

For someone whose closest experiences with God stemmed from non-airconditioned, traditional, old churches like Novena Church, St. Joseph’s (Bukit Timah) and St. Joseph’s (Victoria Street), I understand that sentiment perfectly. There is something in hot, stuffy and uncomfortable old churches that brings one nearer to God, even if it is only an imagined closeness.

But I had come to love Holy Spirit, a home that I had known as it stands today, never having been at the old church or owning a single recollection of how it looked like before. So when Father Fossion made those remarks, I could understand what he was saying but I remained stubbornly loyal to this parish I had come to know as it is and to love.

At the same time, I felt a little sorry for our parish priests and parishioners who had worked so hard to build the parish into what it is today. I wondered how they felt.

But nobody seemed upset by his remarks. If anything, as I carefully glanced around, I saw knowing smiles on parishioners’ faces. Today, I know those remarks are typically characteristic of Father Fossion.

These are all the memories I have of Father Fossion, captured within a one-hour Mass three years ago.

And as our parish held the wakes and funeral Masses for him, I found that I really wish I had known him. As we said goodbye, literally when someone shouted out in the viewing gallery at Mandai as his coffin proceeded into the furnace, “Goodbye, Father!” to be echoed by the same words from different parts of the room; as Father Andrew finally broke down, I felt once again, the feeling I had felt over the last few days, that I was so envious of these people who had met, known and been showered with the love of one of God’s true shepherds, a gift I had only felt a fraction of.

In Father Frans’ words, “In Father Fossion, something of heaven has come to be in our midst.”

And so, I remain grateful for that Pentecost Mass three years ago, even if that is all I have of him.