tagged

Its ironic that after a calm Randori match, the sports day and the news that the debates would be held next week amid the monthly tests, i come online to reply the darn tag game that Wandkey slapped on my back. All the above events were important, all were (almost) momentous in my little life. Still ...

How many schools did i go to?
Three. St Faith kindy, Chung Hwa No1, and then St Thomas's Secondary.

Was i the studious nerd or the last minute hero?
Always the last minute hero. There were only two years where i turned into the studious nerd. Primary 6 and Form 3. Public exams do weird things to the psyche.

Was i the class Ta Jie or the teacher's pet?
No. I prefer mix around with students. And i can't possibly be a Ta Jie - i'm a boy.

What was the biggest rule i broke in school?
In primary school, i kicked a boy. He vomited. Needless to say we were both sent to the principal. But since i had already been to the office many times before, the trip wasn't as scary as it was supposed to be. I had painted graffiti signs around the school a coupla months back. Both events vie for the biggest rule i broke. But i'm not sure which.

3 subjects i enjoyed
English - Darn easy.
Form 1 science - Setting the lab on fire (our teacher, not us) is something you don't forget easy.
Cikgu Yusof's BM - Funny, relaxing and cool.

3 teachers that inspired me
Cikgu Cynthia is at the top of my list. She was funny, nice, open and very easy to talk to. I'm still sorry for anything stupid i said to her, but our class loved her like anything.

A primary 6 science teacher, Chou Lou Tze (Lou Tze here means teacher) never gave up hope on me. I was the bullied guy in my class, but she always told me i could make it in the UPSR, language barrier or otherwise. When the results came out i laughed at the friends and teachers that looked down on me.

The last? I don't know. Many people - Sensei, Mr Tan, my piano teacher, the various pastors i've met. Most importantly - God. He throws curveballs and you've just got to make sense of it.

People i tag:
Gabrielle

Proper poems are written like this

I was browsing through my Friendster alerts when i came over Judy's blog. ( I do have this embarassing itch to call her Cikgu, even though she's moved on from her Thomian teaching project).

At any rate, i found it great - if a little dark and with a very British tang (although God Forbid she's not changing into one of those weird penny-waving people) . She'd plastered it with all these cool death dealing poems (sadistic lecturer, perhaps?) and made all these funny comments. A refreshing breath of fresh air, quite different from all the singlish humour i've been reading lately. Here's one i lifted from her:

The Lesson
(A poem that raises the question:
Should there be capital punishment in schools?)

Chaos ruled OK in the classroom
as bravely the teacher walked in
the hooligans ignored him
his voice was lost in the din

'The theme for today is violence
and homework will be set
I'm going to teach you a lesson
one that you'll never forget'

He picked on a boy who was shouting
and throttled him then and there
then garroted the girl behind him
(the one with grotty hair)

Then sword in hand he hacked his way
between the chattering rows
'First come first severed' he declared
'fingers, feet, or toes'

He threw a sword at a latecomer
it struck with deadly aim
then pulling out a shotgun
he continued with his game

The first blast cleared the backrow
(where those who skive hang out)
they collapsed like rubber dinghies
where the plug's pulled out

'Please may I leave the room sir?'
a trembling vandal enquired
'Of course you may' said teacher
put the gun to his temple and fired

The Head popped a head round the doorway
to see why a din was being made
nodded understandingly
then tossed in a grenade

And when the ammo was well spent
with blood on every chair
Silence shuffled forward
with its hands up in the air

The teacher surveyed the carnage
the dying and the dead
He waggled a finger severely
'Now let that be a lesson' he said

PS: At the end she remarked, and i quote:

If ever I become a teacher, I want to be exactly like the one in this poem.

Good lord.

About Me

Eli James is a student/writer/examophobe. He is currently a student of the National University of Singapore. He is rather obsessed with Judo, and blogs regularly about it. Online he goes by the name shadowsun7, or Dienasty, whichever suits him better (Dienasty is used for games and the odd blog signup). This blog is his personal blog. Here he writes about everything and anything that interests him. If you do not like personal blogs, he recommends you go to Undergroundsquare, where he and other zany teenagers share cool stuff with each other, be it experiences, websites or opinions.

Eli James is a guy who loves green. Giving him a green graphic Tee is a good enough present to make him swoon, be it for his Birthday or Christmas, or easterchinesenewyeardeepavali. Occasionally he falls in love, as all good, normal guys do. When that happens his blog becomes silent. He no longer rants and discusses and argues. So now you know when to send him congratulatory card, with flowers.

Well, it's either that or he's studying frantically last minute for an exam. In which case you should send the congratulatory card anyway, but with energy bars.

Eli James is currently learning Python and Django. He has friends who teach him amazing things about code. He argues with other people who do not share his love for green, here and here.

Eli James is also the co-founder of UGS, or Undergroundsquare. He founded it with the great Kenny Voon, who is currently studying in KL. You can visit UGS by clicking the 'forum' link at the top of the page, or by just clicking the Undergroundsquare link a few lines up. Duh. While you're there, please join and become part of the family! If you don't, that's pretty fine by the guys there too. UGS is small and closely knit, so if it expands to the size of *gasp* Lowyat.net, then they'd lose some of their charm.

Eli James is a Christian who is still learning much about God. This is his blog. His pictures. His deepest thoughts. Thread carefully, for you are stepping in his dreams.

Eli James says: 'Over and out.'



PS: Eli James only talks about himself in the third person when he wants to improve Google rankings for his name. His begs you to forgive him. Just this once.

PPS: Eli James is an online alias. He believes in responsible blogging. If you see something nasty or feel your privacy is being threatened by his observations (and your reasoning is sound) then he will take it down, or at least make the post private. Eli James does not believe in blatant censoring. Please understand the difference between a differing point of view, and a smear campaign. He wishes all of you well.

Judo Accidents

Went to Judo this morning (yippee!) and had a few surprises. For example, we started the session with Sumo wrestling. I nearly hit my head against the wall in mirth. No. Way.

We stripped off our Gis (just the jacket, mind you - Sensei said there were no girls, so it would be okay *rollseyes*) and then started off. A bunch of guys in obis and gi pants. I was up against Desmond, used his speed against him and forced him on his knees. Won. After that went up against Vincent, calmly swung him around and made him collapse too. But i lost to Wilson and Vynerrido, for reasons i can't begin to fathom. At least i gave Wilson lots of scratch marks. :P

Anyway, we then went through the normal stuff - uchikomi and nagekomi practice. I immediately found out two things. First was that my Osotogari is still my biggest headache, even though nobody could find any faults with my initial entering of the technique. Second was that my ukemi isn't what it used to be. I hurt my ankle after three seoinages from Desmond, and either he got better at causing pain, or i'm just plain unfit. Coz a few months back i could take a lot of punishment without anything going wrong.

Anyways, Sensei split the intermediates (us) from the beginners (them), and we learnt new stuff (duh). For them it was boring newaza with changing locks. We learnt okuri-ashi-barai. We were supposed to practise moving sideways before even doing any throwing, so Desmond and i had a lot of fun pretending to be ballroom dancing.

Then, SMACK!

Carlucci had thrown some poor form 2 guy with a lousy seoinage, and he landed on his shoulder. Sensei asked for ice, and applied the packs under the boy's jacket. Me and Desmond stopped fooling around, nervously remembering Steffi's words that bad things can happen when you're not concentrating.

True enough, a few minutes later i threw Desmond with a perfect okuri-ashi-barai, and he landed with a smack that somehow made me fell too. We both laughed it off, even though Desmond was still rather stunned. Hehe.

And then randori. Was rendered completely useless. Desmond toyed with me with uber fast throws, Vincent and i didn't even throw much - he was lazily using kamikata to make sure i don't get anywhere near. Threw Vyner with a lousy Uchimata, and then he attempted to throw me back.

Now, Vyner's speciality is Uchimata, but somehow he managed to get it all wrong and kicked me in the place no boy, be it a fifty year old man or a two year old kid, wants to get kicked. I howled in pain, and laughed at the stupidity of it all. Vyner was sheepish. Vincent and Desmond stopped their sparring to ridicule both of us.

Remind me why i'm in a full contact sport again?

Two Songs

After coming back on the camp, i booted up the com and started hunting for two songs. The first was Delirious's History Maker. I had no problems with that one, since it had a clean, clear pop sound, and was part of the major theme in the camp. Heard it played by the Bethany youth members and loved it. Downloaded it and loved it even more.

Now the 2nd one was a little risky. Thomas had denounced it as 'Black Metal Music', without actually knowing what that tag meant. Black Metal Music is a genre, not a lyrically-wrong-towards-God song. Caleb defended it, however, saying he had no problem with the message. I either disliked Thomas so much i downloaded it, or i liked Caleb's attitude and was influenced by Breakaway mag. After all, the band we were talking about is considered something of a pioneer in Christian music.

I went and got DC Talk - Jesus Freak. And loved it. The song is something of a cross between The Used and Gorrillaz, with weird guitar dischords in the bridge and played in a defiant (against the world, but for God) minor. Plus the background audio experimentation! Oh YES! Why didn't i get this song when i first heard about it, a looong time ago?

They were talking about being proud of your religion and not hiding it. Who cares about the world and what they say about you? Although it was a little weird at first, for it did not glorify God straight on, you can really feel the message coming through the lyrics. Where's Thomas's ears? In a chinese school somewhere, not reading behind the lines of simple english verses?

Ish.

Lyrics for Jesus Freak
[what will people think
When they hear that I’m a jesus freak?
What will people do
When they find that’s it’s true? ]

Separated, I cut myself clean
From a past that comes back in my darkest of dreams
Been apprehended by a spiritual force
And a grace that replaced all the me I’ve divorced

I saw a man with tat on his big fat belly
It wiggled around like marmalade jelly
It took me a while to catch what it said
Cause I had to match the rhythm
Of his belly with my head
’jesus saves’ is what it raved in a typical tattoo green
He stood on a box in the middle of the city
And claimed he had a dream

(chorus)
What will people think
When they hear that I’m a jesus freak
What will people do when they find that it’s true
I don’t really care if they label me a jesus freak
There ain’t no disguising the truth

Kamikaze, my death is gain
I’ve been marked by my maker
A peculiar display
The high and lofty, they see me as weak
Cause I won’t live and die for the power they seek

There was a man from the desert with naps in his head
The sand that he walked was also his bed
The words that he spoke made the people assume
There wasn’t too much left in the upper room
With skins on his back and hair on his face
They thought he was strange by the locusts he ate
The pharisees tripped when they heard him speak
Until the king took the head of this jesus freak

(repeat chorus 2x)

People say I’m strange, does it make me a stranger
That my best friend was born in a manger
People say I’m strange, does it make me a stranger
That my best friend was born in a manger

(repeat chorus 2x)

What will people think
[what will people think]
What will people do
[what will people do]
I don’t really care
[what else can I say]
There ain’t no disguising the truth
[jesus is the way]

Camp and Tongue-ed

Many, many things happened during camp. First off is that i discovered the weird truth that, like almost anything else in my life, i can get distracted even while speaking tongues. Its weird - like i leave my mouth on an autopilot pattern, and then think about my kimia homework left back home.

Oh dear. Sorry Lord.

But it doesn't really matter - most of the people around me, Li Ern, Philimon, the two pastors, were all encouraging those with the gift to use it, and sometimes in the middle of worship we break into a tongue intercession. Very weird, especially since Josh next to me is this very melodious English singer, and usually gets better results than my gabbling.

And then there was Pastor Kenneth. Nothing i say here will ever fully grasp the message he was trying to drive home, but i'm tired and worn out, and my darn wisdom tooth is coming out, and i have this horrible toothache. Another post.

I was in this bunk with Issac, Dennis, Stephan (Sibu guy), some chinese dude, and Quan Wei (KL guy). And on the 2nd night (we later used David's phone to kacau Andrea and Happy by asking them frankly stupid questions and imitating everyone from Patrick Star to Brad Pitt) Isaac told me he wanted to speak to Vicky, coz she was half Kelabit, and so was he, and they were probably related. I told him we'll see tomorrow.

And the next day during breakfast there was this perfect opportunity. She wasn't even in a pack of girls (which always makes me compare them to wolves or something) and was picking her breakfast. I told Isaac. He told me probably later in the bus. I said he mind as well ask her later on in school (he's St Jo, she's St Th3). He said probably next year. That was the last straw.

"Vicky," I said, talking across the table, "Issac wants to ask you something."

"Oh," She said, "Who's Isaac?"

And at that moment Issac came over and was forced to find out if they were related. Turns out they are. I happily went back to my seat, saying, "See what a little forced sleight of hand can do?"

Josh choked on his tea and told me i did it all the time on him.

Owh well.

Really though, there were a LOT of Josephians and Theresians, and i couldn't help drawing comparisons with St Mae and St Thom. I now admit that both have different propensities (why am i even using such a word?) of attractive girls, but hey, as a guy? St Th3 more choice larr.

Mad Cow Disease

And Bird Flu. What next? Fish Cancer?

Snake!

I had freaked earlier this morning. Akong was supposed to visit and bring me out to lunch (damn, i can take care of myself, you guys stop pampering me!) and i was indoors working on add math.

Now, Akong isn't really my 'akong' as the word means. I don't know how i'm related to him, but it can't be by blood, coz that would mean i'm eurasian (he's half Portuguese, and i'm damn sure i'm not). At any rate, we're pretty close - there was this one time when we both tricked my granma into believing that we were going to buy nails, when in actual fact we popped over to McDs and had McFlurries (i think that's how its spelt - long time no eat). Another time when a phone call came and i passed it to him.

"Eh? Eurasian annual dinner? Eh ... No. These days my back is acting up, and i can't stand the pain ..."

The lady was immediately sorry she called and backed out of the invite. Akong looked at me. I looked back. Then we both howled with laughter.

Back to the present, back to the present - he honked, and i opened the gate. Coming out, i saw two things: his white car was reflecting hot sunlight and blinding me, and he was holding a bag of pastries.

But he was pointing at the gate.

"Who put the snake there?" He asked.

Thinking back, it seemed like an awfully stupid statement to make, but then both of us usually pulled pranks on each other like old british schoolboys (if there exists such a thing). I went and looked.

And got a shock.

It was a five foot long, wickedly black (and here wicked means evil looking and not the Brit form of saying cool), totally huge, amazingly fat snake.

I thought it was a fake plastic thing. Akong thought otherwise. I boiled water. He prodded it with a stick i procured. I was visibly shaken by that thing appearing when i was home alone. He seemed relaxed, as if we were having tea or something.

Then we poured the boiling water all over it. No reaction. "Its dead!" Akong announced, and seemingly confirmed my suspicions that it was an elaborate plastic set-up.

I voiced my doubts. He shook his head, saying: "The bugger's real, i tell you, real!"

I sighed. We took a parang and hacked it to bits. Then i realised it was real, and there was blood gushing all over the tiles. Damn.

A neighbour drove by and slowed down, staring. We both waved, as if we were gardening or something. He continued staring, then realised he had work to go to and drove off again. Poor man.

We disposed of it and went for lunch, both suggesting theories on how what the hell it was doing in my front gate. I was wondering what would happened if the dog was loose. Dog vs snake. Who would win? Hmm.

Asian Bloggers

Just the other day Kok Wee and me were discussing Kenny Sia's blog, conveniently ignoring the add math work all in front of us. (Wandkey has a theory that add math tuition is a rip off, but i'll let that rest.)

Anyway, I've been following Kenny Sia's blog for a long time now, and after one session of chatting with Kok Wee, gave him the url of his parking post. He got addicted immediately. Now, if we're plain bored with the pengamiran and the stupid quad equations, all we have to do is talk of his latest exploits.

Like the one in the KL marathon. When i read that i thought two things:

1. Good lord! He actually did it!
   
2. Paul (fren of mine, who's a damned good athelete) would love reading the post.

And then in Friday one of us remarked that asian bloggers seem are more influential in the blogosphere.

That got me thinking. A damn lot of people (including my frens, but then again we're all Asian, mostly from Kuching, and we use lousy english) are reading Xiaxue and Kenny Sia and Mr Brown and God Knows What Else. The only western blogs i read are Boing Boing, Tech Crunch and ProBlogger.

Kok Wee suggested that it was because western blogs are too damned serious. "Their ang mo too chim." He said.

Maybe, i thought. Asian blogs have this endearing string of lahs and mahs that we accept as part of our everyday conversation. And they're extremely funny. I actually give frens who are feeling down the url of my favourite Kenny Sia posts - among them the parking and bad language ones. Usually they end up not chatting with me (hurrah!) and spending their time just reading and falling off their chairs with laughter.

But i can't wait for the next Add Math tuition session. He's just posted this extremely nice piece on ridiculous signs, and i have a feeling i know how Kok Wee would react.

After all, who wouldn't laugh at things like this? -

Gastric -The Malaysian Parable

My family has left for KL, and i'm home alone (well, technically my dog is still here, but only because i couldn't convince my parents to package her and place her in cargo).

I'm supposed to be doing Sejarah, but got hungry and decided to cook maggi mee and do a little blogging. Was feeling a little queasy, anyway, for not eating - i could easily get gastric and roll all over the floor.

Speaking of which, i did get gastric a week before the prefect camp, and i promised myself that when i recovered i'd blog about a story i once read from some dumb educational magazine in circulation around chinese primary schools.

It goes:

There was a young boy who had been born into a wealthy family. He loved nothing more than to sample many different types of food, from all over the world. If he ever wished for any dish, his parents would readily have the food flown from wherever it was to their mansion.

Then one day, the boy felt he had tasted everything worth tasting, and stopped eating. His parents were worried sick. They offered a reward to whoever it was that could introduce a dish worthy of their young one's palate.

A wise old man took up the challenge. He said:" Starve your son for a day. After that, give him nasi lemak."

The parents were a little worried at first, for nasi lemak was not 'high class' food. Nevertheless, they followed the old man's advice. To their surprise, their son ate the rice offered and asked for more.

"How did you do it?" asked the parents.

"Simple," the old man said. "Only after experiencing hunger can you truly appreciate food."

Sounds like one of those corny little fables, doesn't it. Well, duh. It was meant to be. The moral of the story here is "Only when you have been in the lowest of valleys can you enjoy fully the highest of mountains".

But i had gastric then when i recalled the story. So, my pain-influenced mind grappled and decided on this:

Once upon a time, there was a boy who had been born in filthily rich family. They were Malaysian, so he loved food. His parents brought him up to eat everything from anywhere in the world (well, almost everything. His was not allowed teh tarik, for his parents once read in a respectable Malaysian paper that this caused strokes. But that is beside the point)

Then one day, the filthily rich boy felt he had tasted everything worth tasting and refused to eat. His father, instead of saying "My, what a windfall! I can save on the 30 cent increase of petrol!" became worried, and both his parents offered a reward to whoever could introduce a dish worthy of their boy's tastebuds.

A wise old man took up the challenge. He said:"Starve your son for a day. After that, give him nasi lemak."

The parents were a little worried at first, for nasi lemak was not 'high class' food. Nevertheless, they followed the old man's advice. To their horror, their starved son had gastric and died on the spot.

They sued the old man and had him arrested for manslaughter.

Nobody lived happily ever after.

The end.

The moral of this story is that you should never feed a hungry child nasi lemak. Or, in my case, you should not eat three bowls of laksa for breakfast.

Come to think of it, there should be another moral to this story:

Never stop eating.

Now that's what i call a true Malaysian parable.

Loss and Winning

Kenny's blog has a very pissed post on the fact that we lost. I know its unfair, after all the work we've put in to go against teachers, doing badly in our exams and doing everything we can to hold on to the money that various faculty members try to snatch from us. But i'll not say anymore. Life is never fair. You win some, you lose some.

At any rate, the choral speaking is going on at a very sad pace, with Suh Hui looking depressed at the canteen every recess. I got number 2 in class, the first in my short, unintelligent life. I'll not kid myself and say that i've got this intense IQ - doing so will be stupid and self serving. I just got terribly lucky, and i'm sure this feat would not repeat itself ever again.

In other news, the freindly debate against SM Sains will be on 'The Best Things In Life Are Free' and their teacher-in-charge is from Britain. Aargh. Never mind. I'll just go up there and see what happens (thoughts of me rushing into the girls washroom seep into my head. Hey. SM Sains is NOT user friendly).

At any rate, the hols are coming on soon, and my parents would not be in.

...

WOOTS!!!!!!!!!

PLUS (!) the gigabyte concert is going to be up on sat night, which means i can go for Judo! Yippee!

So, life sobers me yet again. I'm currently reading God Wants You To Be Rich, which is just a fancy, dumb name for a book that would've otherwise been called Economic Theologies. Its good. So good its managed to tell me why unemployment's good for the country.

But i'll save that for another post.

Now Laugh

After so many serious posts, I'd decided to put up something crazy. Like it?

Looking Back

I couldn't write after that, with all the distractions and the plainly annoying bus ride (Goldon was sitting with Sze Chin, and they were talking about him, his looks, and his popularity amongst the pelik girls of St Thom Form 6. And i'm not talking about sane people like Wandkey or Siew Luan or Siaw Ping here)

So much to talk about. There was the Menara Tertinggi, where Paul and Roderick built an amazingly stable tower that resisted all fanning attempts.

There was the BBQ, where Della and Aidan pissed the hell out of other people (me and Paul were discussing the finer points of spilling burning alcohol in Chem class with Andy) by being uber bossy.

Then there was the reflection period, in which i learnt to look not only at (Suh Hui and Chin Chin's) faults, but to also appreciate their character strenghts. I leave the camp not hating them, not exactly liking them to the point of hugging either.

They're okay. New types of people to meet.

Now for the next camp, next week. National CF, and for church leaders.

Crap. Going to miss Judo again.

Kenny 'The Icecube' Voon

6:31pm Saturday 4/March/2006

This time we had two activities. Pulau Harapan, in which we had to push and create a ten year development plan for an island we were stranded on, and Menara Tertinggi, in which we had to built the tallest tower we could out of straws.

The Pulau activity was cool, but i literally had no mood. I let Suh Hui take over everything (and i mean everything), silently praying for patience and wisdom to not lash out and just observe. In the end it was okay, with our group being the best, because it was logical and Suh Hui was logical and Suh Hui determined what choice the team makes.

The greatest personality in that activity, however, was Kenny.

He was the last group to present, and he had seen how the over-ambitious ones got bombed by everyone. He put his map on the whiteboard. We stared.

The island had been converted from something like Timbaktu to something like Singapore. A grand hotel, a resort, a port, urban planning, factories, actual scale for GDP and a lighthouse! WTH!?

He knew as well as we did that he would not survive. So, Kenny being Kenny, he started crapping.

"Oh, we were on a cruise to London for our honeymoon, so got a lot of doctors and engineers and bussinessmen ..."

It went on for quite a few minutes, and had us all in stitches. Ms Chong was close to banging her head on the door with mirth. Especially when

"If your ship karam there, then how come you built a port exactly where your ship karam?"

Kenny replied:" Oh, our ship crashed because of icecube, and then now the icecube from the Antartic don't have, so ..." *Breaks into laughter*. It threw me in stitches, with all my stomach muscles in a cramp from the plain hilarity. O.M.G.

From that time onwards, Kenny became somewhat of a mascot of the camp, Icecube and all.

The Next Day

1:13pm Saturday 4/March/2006

I didn't get enough sleep. Last night, after writing the Late Friday post on paper, Randy and his friends were singing late into the night and after uselessly trying to sleep on the couch with my feet propped on the TV counter, i rolled off and used my bag as a pillow.

Stupid. They're still at it now.

We're taking a mid-day rest in the terrace. Paul is bathing, Fletcher is watching a Hindi movie and Randy, Aslan and Hasfah are singing wonderfully out-of-tune songs. How out-of-tune? Let's just say they're imitating Jaq of Malaysian Idol in a screechy high voice.

Morning was uneventful, save for the boring warmup (Guan Choi slipped and fell, flying some three metres and ending up with blood all over his hands and legs), a continuation of last night's presentation, and the Titanic.

We lost that one, no matter. I'm tired of thinking, and it was all that i could do to balance myself on a peice of wood (i have big feet, so falling would be an embaressment to big-foot-kind). Wandkey and Wilfred did, however fall off and fly - Wandkey being the more spectacular one and crashing into chairs. Again, not her fault. We placed the pieces of wood too far apart.

The rest was just plain boring. I still find Suh Hui annoyingly close minded, but i'm getting used to her. This time i'm using a more toned down method, but it doesn't matter because the whole group (with the exception of Chin Chin, coz she's just incapable of original thought) agreed on the same issue in the 'Passing Judgement' activity.

GTG. Its 1:24 now, and i have to get to the hall at 1.30.

Late Friday Night

11:33 Friday 3/March/2006

When we were in Form 2, Paul invented a code that allowed us (him, me, Garrick) to read and decipher instantly. I am now writing in that code, because of a few things i do not want known in camp.

Code example:
With badeyes kronok, bandages tahohow made an the Tsuh killed duit as is the bard and 2 fishes tork him with.

Deciphered:
Tan Suh Hui is hard to work with.

Propose a project to help students with disciplinary problems

Now, the very instant discussions started she took over the group, overshadowing all the others, even the supposed leaders, Azlan and Siew Luan. I immediately disliked her. In times of stress, such as when the time limit was almost up, she groaned and muttered pessimistic comments (we're going to DIE!), while i had no choice but to keep up the "Relax, Shut Up, There's Enough Time" mantra.

And there were the actual discussions. First point, survey. Second point, counseling. Both were proposed by her, both were accepted (by her). Next point, reward system (i suggested that). After that, talk (ceramah). Last, educational games.

The reward system was shot down by an extremely strong barrage of negativity from her. She told me it could not work, it was not feasible, that the current merit system was not working. I told her that it was intangible, and the one we were proposing was tangible, that all these problematic students wanted was some acceptance. Wasn't the argument about it not working a double standard? Saying that the stick is better than the carrot? She continued her firm stand that it would not work. I let it drop, not wanting a power struggle.

Next point, talk. She said it would not work, that the students would not listen at all, that it was music to deaf ears. At this point, seeing the rest of team slowly being swayed, and finding that 30 minutes had already passed with ONLY two points, i intervened.

"Look," I said, "We have this amount of points, and not much time left. We have already shot down the reward suggestion. We are in the process of shooting down the talk. We will shoot down the fun day. We have to choose now."

She (almost) exploded. "How can you say that? We don't care about whether it works or not. All we care about is discussing these points and proposing them. It doesn't matter ..."

I laughed inside. Her paradox of a comment was on the defense. I was winning, subtly.

Slowly i pushed for the team to choose, then and there. They did. With the vast majority having a constructive discussion, she quieted down enough for Tih Shyang to help out with the support. We started the minutes and the budget of our meeting and proposal.

The presentation
Many people would say that the presentation was the most interesting part of that activity. I digress. Presentations where friends are shooting at you pales in comparison to calmly arguing with an angry, old parent and actually teaching him about the responsibility of bringing up children the right way (which i did, last year, much to the amusement of my watching family. The parent later on told his son never to mix with lawyer types like me. Funny. I'm not interested at the very least in practising law).

But i admired Wandkey's quick rebuttals as the first presenter (they proposed a fund raising movie premiere of Spiderman 3 for the prefects), even if she was not that convincing. It was not her fault. A proposal falls quickly when someone shouts out that Spiderman 3 comes out in 2007.

>.<'''

Overall? A tired and frustrating night.

First Activities

6.58 Friday 3/March/2006

I'm sitting at one of the terrace rooms in Ranchang Recreational Park, writing in a blue exercise book i should've thrown back in Form 2, but somehow never used and kept. The room's air conditioned, has a built-in toilet and a TV.

Whoa. Freeze there. Didn't they say this was a camp?

Well, we were all pleasantly surprised (read: bed jumping). But back to what happened earlier.

We arrived at roughly 3 plus, though i was dropping asleep by then and didn't care for the time. Carried the wooden bars (no one knows what they're for) and had a splinter wedged firmly into my skin. Pulled it out, but it's still annoyingly itchy as i write, some three hours after.

A chinese serial has just started, and the room roars in approval as a beach scene comes on. I'm not interested in stupid chinese serials, so i ignore the faked surfing lesson and continue writing.

There's ten people in the room and only two Queen size matresses. No idea how we're going to sleep. Aidan is now breathing down my neck. Damn. Too many interruptions. He tsks and goes off.

Back to before. After arriving we got orientated, and then played the first game. All of us were handed blue strips of paper. I opened mine. It read:

Far And Near

It turned out to be parts of the school song. We were asked to group ourselves into verses and the chorus. Simple. I didn't rush, instead located each and every group and then lazily allowed a frantic Exora to pull me into verse 3.

Works all the time. (Kenny got lost, strangely)

2nd game: Story Telling. Ms Chong asked us to continue a story, one at a time, from each group. She started with "I was having duty at the main gate ..."

The story quickly evolved from a fight (boy walked up and punched) to Ms Chong and her dog (she didn't have one), to a dream, to Mr Foo coming back, to it being a dream within a dream, to Ms Chong slicing off 'my' head, and then running headless, and then turning gay ...

You get the idea.

*Stopped here, visited the two other boys dorms. Room 3 was having free music from Kenny's handphone. I watched Kevin and Keith (Ks!) playing chess, and then headed to Room 4.

Goldon, Wilfred, Guan Choi and Byondi were all taking shirt-folding lessons from Billy, who had draped a pink towel over his head.

Who says life has to make sense?

A little while later

2.10 Friday 3/March/2006

Just left the school. Exhaust fumes meet my nose, and i'm sitting next to Paul, who just made a snide comment on my writing (read: my nose)

A few seconds ago he said, "Cool, we're going to camp!"

Now passing St Th3. Strangely nobody hoots. We're getting more and more matured, i guess.

Before we left Ms Chong led us in prayer. We held hands and did what was expected of us.

Prefects are making a ruckus. Now it quiets down and Suh Hui goes to the front and snaps a shot od us in the bus. Randy opens a packet of crisps and hands magically appear around it. Paul tells me he hasn't eaten one in years. We bothe chew. Pauls looks at my writing.

"Addictive man!" he says, and goes after the bag again.

Camp

1:42 Friday 3/March2006

Spent the morning cooped up at some educational expo thing, with five other schools. The St Mary 5s1 was there, but we didn't talk nor mingle. Saw Anthea in the St T3 delgation and i admit i was lazy to strike up a conversation on basketball with her. So the boys stuck to the boys, the girls stuck with the girls. The in-betweeners stayed in-between.

Popped over to S'wak club after that with Paul, bathed, ate. Prefect camp was nearing, but i just couldn't imagine myself sleeping on a bedbug ridden bunk later today.

Kevin and Chong Ann were playing chess in U6S3 just beside me. Now they're leaving for the bus. GTG, or Ms Chong'll kill me.