Give me Love and Money, I have the rest already

All set and ready to go

A sea of red

Thank you Mr Policeman

Hello everyone! We are Hardo Gay! Hoooo!

You won’t believe what we went through to get here

Happy family

Yeah that’s right…I don’t have a chin.

Sausage in National Stadium. Hoooo!

Made in Singapore. No other day prouder.

Flawless contingents. Anybody who’s been in there before knows that the only way to fall out…is to fall flat on your face. Nobody squats down and says "I’m not feeling well"

Don’t you know I hate it when people mess wth my hair?

The cute little boy who was sitting in front of me

The last 4 rows had umbrellas ready cos they were shooting off fireworks right behind us

Thuderous fireworks to end the night

I was troubled by the apparent over-confidence of a generation that has only known stability, growth and prosperity. I thought our people should understand how vulnerable Singapore was and is, the dangers that beset us, and how we nearly did not make it. Most of all, I hope that they will know that honest and effective government, public order and personal security, economic and social progress did not come about as the natural course of events.

Lee Kuan Yew

"Please sign on every page of these 2 original copies after you have read through them" Elaine (not Galahad’s mother as I recently mentioned) left the room after that. And I was alone in the room. The elephants in the painting on the wall stared at me with their lonely eyes.

It was a good half hour before she returned. "Any questions? Good. Let’s go to the Medical Centre now" Elaine always seems uninterested and mechanical. I always have to ask her to speak up on the phone cos she’s such a soft-spoken person. But I am grateful for her. I can see from her eyes that she is genuine. I would rather have her than a smiley-faced tiger.

"Thalassaemia Minor and asthma…You know about Thalassaemia Minor?" "Yes. I have to be careful with my spouse." "Right, good. Now you can go for your X-ray"

Making my way to Raffles Place, my mind wandered endlessly. Oblivious to the music playing loudly into my ears, I digressed.

"I’m going to need you to pull down your bermudas now. I have to check for hernia, just like how they did in NS." I thought to myself…no problems doc…you just have to ask nicely…Before I knew it, he had pulled down my underwear and was poking around the area above my groin below my stomach.

"NOBODY PULLS DOWN MY UNDERWEAR UNLESS I TELL THEM TO!" I screamed, totally disgusted. I bitch-slapped him across his face, his gold-rimmed spectacles flying away from him. "I am so going to whip your ass for doing that!"

The above paragraph only happened in my head.

It was over before I realised how I should have reacted. "Ok you can pull up your shorts now" The doctor was back at his table scribbling on my report. I wonder is this the same reason why some girls get molested on buses and chuck the thought to the back of their heads after that.

I need a love that grows

I don’t want it unless I know

That each passing night, someone somehow

Will be there ready to share

I need a love that’s strong

I’m so tired of being alone

But will my lonely heart

Play the part of the fool again

Before I begin

*

Foolish Heart

Hear me calling

Stop before you start falling

Foolish Heart

Heed my warning

You’ve been wrong before

Don’t be wrong anymore

*

Feeling that feeling again

I’m playing a game I can’t win

Love’s knocking at the door of my heart once more

Think I’ll let her in

Before I begin

Journey

Isn’t it obvious that she’s not happy where she is now?

Yes I know. But it’s not that simple. Old people can be very obstinate. And if something happens to her when she is in our care, it’s hard for us to answer.

Why do I get the impression that you are more concerned about yourself than you are for her. It shouldn’t be about responsibility now.

No that’s not what I’m saying. You have to think about Mummy. This is between her mother, her brother and herself. You are not in any position to say anything. Not even I. We are in another hierachy level.

But isn’t this the bureacracy you have always spoken against? Why preach it today?

This is different. We are in a family context now. She is not our mother. She is Mummy’s mother.

All I know is she is my grandmother. I don’t intend to step out of line. But I will not let my views go unheard.

It’s not that simple I’m telling you. What if something happens to her while she is in our care?

I can’t believe this conversation is happening. Can you imagine you and I having this conversation when Mummy is old?

I wouldn’t be speaking in this tone if it’s my own mother I’m talking about.

Don’t speak so early for yourself.

I can’t make you see my point. But I know Mummy thinks along the same wavelength as me. She has to talk to you about this. Maybe she will be able to get through.

I prefer to think that I need to get through to you.

Just look at me. Talking like a left winger in parliament. Speaking as if I know what I want in my life. Mouthing tones as if I am in control of my life. I haven’t spoken so forcefully in a long time. I have learnt how to keep my opinions to myself. I have learnt how to not sound so confident because it has been proven too many times that I am often wrong about myself.

I asked Rachel, "You really think that France would have won if Zidane wasn’t red-carded?" "Yes of course" How can a girl have such an honest opinion about football while I, a chest-thumping caveman, not the courage to take a side and believe in my choice?

Maybe I have spoken too fast. Maybe my tongue should have waited for my mind to catch up before lashing out foolishly. Maybe I have been too strong for my own good. Maybe Mr Hyde came out for a while today. I hope Dr Jekyll returns tomorrow. I like Dr Jekyll better. All mellow and cautious, no risky moves.

I went to the temple yesterday to offer incense to Shuping. And I kind of felt that something was inappropriate. I just came from lunch at Aw’s and before that we had gone to the gym. So I wasn’t exactly in my best attire and I was sweaty and sticky at the same time. I guess I should have showered at Aw’s so that at least I would be squeaky clean. That way, I would not have felt so dirty in a holy place. The last thing I need now, is to feel spiritually dirty. It makes perfect sense now why people scrub themselves raw clean on the day they go to church.

The temple had a signboard with it’s name printed on it. But I couldn’t read the 3 Chinese characters even if my life depended on it. I spent 15 minutes standing in front of the tablets, holding 3 joss-sticks in my hands. Even though I tried really hard to squint at the words in order to identify which one is Shuping’s, there was just too many and far away for me to read. So I just stood in front of all those tablets and I said in my head: "Shuping I can’t find you so you gotta look for me instead alright. You can’t miss me, I’m all alone here. It’s been 4 years, how is it going for you man? I’m fine thank you. Actually, I’m more worried about you. Really? Why thank you for the compliment. I’ve been working out you know…it’s not that easy for somebody like me to lose weight. Anyway I finally graduated after 4 grueling years. Yeah job-hunting now man…you got any vacancies for me over your side? *grinz* No no no…you don’t have to watch over me lah, you already have your hands full blessing your family and watching over them. I can take care of myself fine. Nope…not anymore. I sold it. And I’m taking the trains and buses now, not too shabby you know…can bio char bor and listen to MP3. __*Silence*__ I’m so sorry Shuping, for all the times I denied you affection. For all the times I should have just put my arm around your shoulder, or given you a hug, I was too embarrassed to do it. Now I’m not ashamed of it anymore, I’m not shy about giving hugs anymore. But if only you were here….."

Even though I discovered recently that I am capable of building walls, that I in fact really know how to put on a strong front, that I can do a perfect imitation of an ostrich where my head is buried underneath the sand and the emotion missiles booming past above; even though I am the melodrama-king-fool and 9 out of 10 times when i cry it’s because I took self-pity to a new height; I didn’t stop myself when I felt my vision blurring today.

It was OK to cry today.

__________________________________________________________________________________

She took off her heels and stepped onto his boots, left feet on right boot and right on left. Suddenly she found her face close to his broad and powerful chest and his arms were already wrapped around her shoulders. "I forgot how warm you feel" she whispered. Right at this moment, Lois knew that she wanted him back. No conditions. "Richard takes me flying all the time too you know. He’s a pilot" Lois defended. "Not like this" he said.

Before she knew it, she was breathtaken by the magnificent view. She could see the whole of Metropolis, the city lights winking at her, the tiny cars moving at snail’s speed from where she was, the globe of Daily Planet revloving on top of it’s skyscraper. There was no parachute. Nor safety harness. But she has never felt more secure in her life. She knew….that he would never allow her to fall. They flew down to the river and he brought Lois close to the surface of the water, their bodies parallel to the horizontal. Lois stretched out her hand to touch her own reflection in the mirror-like water, leaving a temporary trail with her fingers.

When they returned to the rooftop, Lois didn’t let go immediately. She lifted her chin to expose her soft lips to him. There was no inertia at all, he came down to meet his lips with hers. But millimetres before their lips fused, she froze and pulled back. "Richard is a good man. And you’ve been gone for so long" she murmured ever so unsure of herself. Like a small boy slapped in the mouth, he jerked backwards and stood a distance away. "I have to go Miss Lane, good night" and he rose into the darkness.

__________________________________________________________________________________

I guess both Aw and I secretly wish that we could be Superman. Not that we care much about saving the world. But knowing how to fly would mean that girls will throw themselves at our feet. Plus, a penis of steel…..*ouch*

There’s Tim Henman, the British who executes the shoelace volleys to perfection. Such soft hands he has. The softest that we have seen in a while. But Tim has his abilities lopsided, for he fumbles when shots are directed to his backhand.

Andy Roddick, the American who explodes from the baseline every service, producing balls that speed at well over 200km/hr. His services land on the line ever so often, leaving a tiny cloud of chalk. And his opponents can only stand with roots entwined to their feet, wishing that the linesman would shout out. But they don’t even murmur. Andy’s only mojo, however, is his service. Hence the throne is never his for long.

Rafael Nadal, the young punk from Spain, the clay court specialist. Not only does he dominate on clay, he challenges the traditional tennis attire by wearing green sleeveless Ts and long shorts (or are those short longs?). His energy container seemingly bottomless, he hunts down every single ball. And playing him is almost like hitting the ball against a wall. It always comes back.

But Roger. Mr Federer. From Switzerland, the very country we try to model after. He is different. He is an artist and the tennis court is his canvas. He paints the court with his strokes, every shot is crafted exquisitely. What a joy it is to watch him flirt with the sidelines, but never breaching the boundaries. It is amazing how handsome and charming he looks on the court, wielding his mighty sword racket. But off court during interviews, I find his face simply distorted. Now every superhero has his kryptonite, and Roger’s kryptonite takes the form of a deep red cakey powder. Clay. As such, many trophies sit in Roger’s home, but none of them reads "French Open".

The highlight of this Wimbledon however, will not be the final deciding match. The highlight of this Wimbledon, is Andre Agassi’s last chance on grass. Whereas his arch nemesis Pete Sampras chose to retire at the peak of his career, Andre decided that he will continue to play until he cannot anymore. Hence the whole world saw how Andre’s career slip away from him. It is sad for us to watch, but I guess it must be even more cruel for him to play below his game and at the same time know that he had been much more brilliant ten years ago. Yesterday at Centre Court, I saw flashes of brilliance. And during these shortlived flashes, I saw the Andre that we know and love. But without these flashes, he is just a veteran, whose legs are all too worn and dreary. More than anything, "age" was written all over Andre’s side of the court. At matchpoint, Rafael savagely tore an ace through the grass and Andre knew…that it was time to shake hands at the net.

Andre’s last words on Centre Court: "I can never repay you, for the embrace you have given me through all these years."