Drive

One fateful day, 17 years ago, I derailed myself from secure tracks of mainstream education. From that day onwards, I was on my own. Young pair of hands holding on to the reins keeping the curious young horse in check, towing a cartload of burdens and uncertainty.

It's been 17 years. The horse is getting old. The cart is getting too small for the burdens and uncertainties that has grown throughout the years. Of course I attempted to hide the uncertainties below. I am an adult now. It's blasphemy to acknowledge how lost one still feel at this ripe old age.

Today is one of those days when I wished there was someone I could pass the reins to.
Someone I could request to: "I am tired. Please drive. Watch my back while I rest. I do not know how long I need to rest. I don't care where you drive us to... Just drive... "

Somehow I could see myself in years to come...

A wrinkled old man... tired but determined hands, guiding a jaded old horse, pulling a cartload of ever-increasing burden and uncertainties, trudging along the highway slowly... against the ever-increasing traffic of motorcars...  ¶


17:21 by aberwyn 4 comments

Bar rants I

I was at the same joint last night for a much needed drink after a stress-ridden workday.

Sitting next to us at the bar were a group that consisted of 3 minor celebrities. 2 of them appeared in the local version of FHM before. It was quite disappointing to see them in more clothes then necessary. And they sure look smaller in all senses in real life. Anyway, I was there to chill and I believe they need to take their break from the limelight too, so we shall shift the camera from them.

Later in the night, the young band on the stage invited a lone man with shaggy hair sitting at the bar, up the stage. He was apparently a veteran musician. They started jamming together on stage and boy, was I disappointed. Let's just say I have seen/heard better.

Anyway, I realised at that point that young performing bands tend to try too hard to charm the crowd. They seem to be stuck in that limbo consisting of these thoughts in their head:
"Am I really sitting up here in the spotlight playing the guitar??"
"Boy, am I COOOOOL or what??"
"Look at all theeese fans of mine....man...I AM coooolll..."

Veteran bands on the other hand, tend to exude a certain confidence that charms the crowd subtly. They do not strut around the stage screaming for attention, like the young ones. It is their skills at the individual instruments backing the vocalist up perfectly to form a complete audio/visual experience that draws the crowd.

Want to experience it for yourself?
Go watch the vets like:
John Molina and Krueger at China Bar, Gilbert at Roomful of Blues, Douglas O and 9lives at Bar None.

Then go visit the sister joints Balaclava and Wala Wala. There are quite a few young bands rotating between these two locations.

Have a couple of drinks and judge for yourself.  ¶


15:03 by aberwyn 2 comments

questions for you

When one is in love, one can't wait to introduce this significant other proudly to one's social circle, to let them know what a wonderful gem of a person he or she is.

What happens when you refuse to allow your significant other into your social circle? Does that make the significant other flawed? Did you feel that him/her will disgrace you? Are you even in love with him or her?  ¶


13:25 by aberwyn 4 comments

Trivia

Have you ever noticed that in a social event where one is introduced to lots of people, chances of you remembering that person's name is proportional to his/her level of charm?

Assuming everybody is heterosexual and you do not know the history of the person you are introduced to;
if the other party is of the opposite sex, chances of you remembering his/her name goes up a notch.
if the other party is an attractive and/or sexy species of the opposite sex, the percentage points goes up further.

If you can remember their names no matter how ugly or insignificant they are, you are probably an insurance agent.  ¶


18:25 by aberwyn 5 comments

Chivalry

I had a conversation last Friday with eck on the subject of chivalry and whether it still exist. It reminded me of something I wrote from way back which I am regurgitating now with some major editing.

CHIVALRY: The qualities idealised by knighthood such as bravery, courtesy, honour and gallantry towards women.

Scenerio Bravery:

Husband and wife walking along the street with their kid. A dog was trying to cross the street, facing impending danger of getting run over by a truck. Husband dashed over and saved it from becoming roadkill.

Wife: WTF do you think you are doing?? Risking your life for a DOG??? What if you get run over??? Have you ever spared a thought for ME and OUR KID?
Husband: -.-'

------

Scenerio Courtesy:

Man was about to enter a building. Opened and held door for a woman who was coming out. She glared at him as if he was about to outrage her modesty. Then she stormed out without an acknowledgement of appreciation.

Man: -.-'

*If the Man's gf/wife where to be with him:

Man's gf/wife: Why was she looking at you? Why were you smiling at her while you were holding on the the door??? You want to sleep with her right??? OR have you slept with her??

*Doesn't matter if the woman who walked out was an old hag.

------

Scenerio Honour:

Man : I need to go. The Buddy needs help.
Woman: Why?
Man : Why?? He's my Bud.
Woman: But he is only your buddy. Is he more important than me, your gf/wife???
Man : ...

On a separate occasion:
Man : Ok, I cancelled the booze with the buds so we can spend a quiet evening together.
Woman : But you are making me feel guilty for spoiling your boys night out.
Man : ...

------

Scenerio Gallantry:

Man sending woman home after a date in a cab.
Woman: I will drop you off first.
Man : It's ok. I will send you back.
Woman: Nah, Your place is nearer. Logical to drop you off first.
Man : Nah, you stay just 5 min further down. I will send you back first. It's late.
Woman: You think I can't take care of myself???
Man : ...

The same couple on a separate occasion some time later:

Man : I am tired, will just drop you off near your place k?
Woman : Why are you not walking me to my door? YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE???
Man : ...

======

Conclusion: Women only want Men to be chivalrous to them. Yes, not to other women, just themselves. That aside, if the woman dislikes you, your gallantry will irritate the hell out of her too.

So how has chivalrous knights evolved? They threw away their shiny armour in frustration and regressed into crude peasants.

And they lived happily ever after.  ¶


16:54 by aberwyn 5 comments

The Secret Garden

I was deep in thoughts as usual, as I was on my way to work this morning in a cab. Thoughts on my mind were the usual single urban male thoughts: women(futile attempts to understand the logic behind their actions), work(I need a freaking holiday) and bills(how to live a debt free life here seems rather impossible).

I was basically stressing myself out to a blue monday(so that I will have excuse to go for a 'much needed drink'), when my attention was caught by the beautiful, lush golden canopy formed by the rows of Golden Rain Trees lining the roadside. I stared in awe as I felt as though I was being driven through golden arches formed by nature, on the way to wonderland. All stressful thoughts vaporised as I sat up to observed the trees around with interest. The thick fluffy crown of the Angsana evoking a sense of comfort. The long slender branches of the Yellow Flame reaching up to the skies with hope. Palm trees swaying in harmony along the expressway. Pretty flowers of the Bougainvillea hedges lining the expressways like the guiding lights of a runway.

Thank God for the vision of a garden city. What would life be when the stark, defined concrete skyline did not get softened by the carefully interspersed miracles of nature?

Take a break from the stress of urban living. Stop to enjoy the sweet scent of flowers. Enjoy the secret garden that we live in.  ¶


11:41 by aberwyn 1 comments

Bar cats

My regular watering hole for the last four years is a small little, low profile pub tucked in a corner of town. It has a very friendly owner, a gem of an acoustic singer, a bar manager with an elephantine memory and a couple of young pretty waitresses. It was a place where you can get a huge load of privacy when you want to stay away from the crowd of popular clubs and pubs. The staff had master the art of knowing when to chat or when to leave you to your own thoughts. I used to park myself at that bar counter 4-5 times a week, alone, reading and nursing my pint. When inspiration struck, I would pen some thoughts down.

When my team got transferred to a different office, I started hanging out at Wala(a popular pub in the western side of Singapore) since it is very near the god forsaken location that my team is situated now. I had since reduced the frequency of my visits the old joint to about once or twice per month.

Last week, while dining along the sidewalk at Holland Village, on 2 different occasions, I overheard the young folks sitting nearby mentioning the name of the old joint. A couple of days later, My your temp staff told me he discovered a 'new' joint with pretty waitresses and a very good singer. No prize for guessing that his 'new' joint was the same one I have been sulking hanging out at for the last 4 years.

Last Friday, I left to company of my friends at Wala to seek the solitude and nostalgia of the old joint. The moment I stepped into the bar, I was hit by a barrage of mixed feelings. It was a juxtaposition of the warm familiarity of coming home, with the disoriented jolt caused by the strange new faces floating around. The bar was totally full. My regular seat was taken. I was standing at the entrance feeling lost, reeling from the mixed emotions, when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. It was one of the old regular bar cats.

What are 'bar cats', you ask?
There is a small unique breed of folks who go alone to bars. This bunch does not go there to see or be seen or to get lucky/laid. They would frequently be found sitting alone at the bar counter, minding their own business and would usually rather be left alone. Once in a while they would stick out a curious probing paw when they notice someone similar. These are the folks I term 'bar cats'. They are the ones who do not need company to drink, who are comfortable with their solitude.

Back to the voice. I looked in her direction to notice a few of the old bar cats sitting at some couches a distance away from the bar counter. I went over to say hi and did some catching up with them. We were feeling out of place with this change. We celebrated the increase popularity of the joint. We lamented losing the quiet, get-away joint that we grew so fond of. Through the course of the night, I noticed we had one common habit. We would stare longingly at the bar counter once in a while when we thought no one was noticing.

For folks like us, sitting at the bar counter gives us the solitude and freewill to interact as and when we like; to just give a nod of acknowledgement before withdrawing back to our personal space, when we are in no mood to socialise. We are the ones who do not like the confinements of sitting round a table. We do not like to be tied to a 'group space'. We would mind meld when we find you interesting. We would walk away when it is sated. We do not love hanging out in groups. That said, we are not socially inept. We have outgrown the social butterfly phase of our lives. We hoard our privacy and thus respect privacy. We are individuals who come together when we want and leave when we feel like.

We are the bar cats.  ¶


11:37 by aberwyn 3 comments

Blue Monday

For a normal workday:

No. of hours per day : 24
No. of hours spent at work per day : 10
No. of hours spent sleeping per day : 08
No. of hours left : 24-9-8 = 07
No. of hours spent on meals per day : approximate 02.
No. of hours spent traveling to and from work: 2.5
Total no. of hours left of free time per day : 07-02-2.5 = 2.5 !!!

-.-;

The only way to extend the no. of hours of free time per day is to eat into sleep time. And when you do that, you will go to work the next day, all grouchy and get more frustrated with work. And the vicious cycle will continue...

Man...I ain't cut for working fixed hours... How do I break free from this monotony before I implode?

Is resistance futile?

"...Those who came before me
Lived through their vocations
From the past until completion
They will turn away no more..."
~ Blue Monday by New Order
  ¶


14:13 by aberwyn 1 comments

I hate my friends.

Was out drinking, at the joint near my office )which makes life bearable in this god forsaken part of the country) with the usual suspects on friday. Some colleagues came down later to join us in the revelry.

It's been quite a long while since I had much fun with a huge group out drinking. (Note: any drinking groups that consist of more then 3 is huge to me.) Topics varied from Tetanus's eyes to babysitting to butts to homosexuality to business partnerships.

The merrymaking mood came to an abrupt end for me when the below incident took place.

I was talking to firecow and a female colleague about some topic that I cannot remember now that I am sober. My answer to one of her enquiries got an excited reply from her:
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?!??!?"

It freaked me out so much that I had to excused myself to the gents. After a smoke to soothe my nerves, I made my way fearfully back to my seat at the bar. As I was trying to squeeze my way through the crowd, I felt a hand lingering on my butts. It was her standing next to me, smiling at me in a predatory manner. I could almost see her fangs as I cringed in fear. When I offered to buy her a drink in return for the whiskey soda she got for me earlier, she suggested spending the night at my place and even wanted to arrange to meet up next week so I could buy her the drink back.

I looked around desperately for help. Xena, Tetanus and Mun were deeply engrossed in conversation. Cow was grinning at me. Eck suddenly found his drink very interesting. Everybody pretended not to see my pleading face. I was left alone to face this ordeal. I felt like a virgin maiden being offered on the altar(not that I am one) to appease some demoness. And this bunch of so-called friends are the priests/priestesses who would gain peace through my sacrifice. For a moment I could see myself making a last heroic speech, with tears in my eyes, before dying a martyr.

I was so traumatised by the incident that I had nightmares the whole weekend. I have fear of going to crowded places now. I think I need to see a shrink soon. And ya, I absolutely hated my friends.  ¶


15:39 by aberwyn 10 comments