On the dreams that we dream while we are still children.

Winter Olympics is over.

But while I was watching the Figure Skating Exhibition on Sunday, I suddenly remembered why I love the event.

Because Evgeny Plushenko was skating.

When you were growing up, when you watched the Olympics, didn't you ever just want to be like those athletes? Maybe say to yourself, "Someday, I wanna do that."

It happened for me when I saw Archery for the first time on the Olympics, and it makes me one of the happiest people alive to know that I'm in it as a competitive sport now (although it's a bloody long shot from the Olympics, haha), and it is something that I can be good at.

I never saw Figure Skating in the Winter Olympics (in fact, I think this is the first time I'm watching the Winter Olympics, and even then, coz of the time difference between Torino and here, I can't watch most of the events); the only time I ever remember watching Figure Skating on TV when I was younger was maybe on Sunday afternoons, when they'd play random stuff to fill up the broadcast slots, and on public holidays, when they'd show skate shows. Although nowadays, they show beauty pageants more. -_-

I still remember the first few skaters that I loved-- Kristy Yamaguchi, Oksana Baiul, Victor Petrenko-- the latter two both Ukrainian, and I saw them for the first time in the same show. I still remember that I thought Baiul was amazingly pretty, and Petrenko's routines made me laugh; he had such charisma.

And I sat there, smiling with my mouth half-open, eyes fixed on the screen, and thought, "Someday I wanna do that."

Sometime later, I remember seeing Alexei Yagudin; according to what was flashed on the bottom of the screen, he was 20 at the time, although I'm not sure which competition it was. The names of all these competitions and their relevance completely escapes me as I'm not really in the loop about figure skating; I just know how beautiful these people look when they're on the ice. :)

But I remember it was Yagudin that started my obsession with Russian skaters.

Yagudin's routine then was breathtaking because he had such confidence and power, but it wasn't just something about the Russians' style and their poise and the way they carried themselves, both on and off the ice.


It helped that Yagudin was very easy on the eyes as well. :D 


Winter Olympics 2002: Salt Lake City
Alexei Yagudin-- Short Program: "Winter" by Bond 

He won Gold then, but I think that was his last Olympics though, since he retired from eligible skating shortly.


A little more gratuituous eye candy. :P
This one's from his performance of "Broken Arrow" at the 1999 Grand Slam, before the start of the routine. 

But there's also the matter of the man who won Silver in that very same Olympics: Evgeny Plushenko, also Russian-- whom I mentioned in the beginning.

The first time I remember seeing Plushenko, I thought he was amazing because his jumps always had so much height, and his stunts were always immaculate; apart from Yagudin then, I thought that it really didn't get any better than this.

So when I saw him skating in the Torino Games' Exhibition after finally winning Gold this year, it just brought back all the memories of my quiet admiration for figure skaters.


Winter Olympics 2006: Torino
Evgeny Plushenko-- Short Program: "Tosca" 


Winter Olympics 2006: Torino
Evgeny Plushenko-- Free Skate: "Godfather" 


Winter Olympics 2006: Torino
Plushenko with gold in the middle there. 

And watching him skate to "Godfather" by Edwin Marton (with the violinist out on the ice with him too), I knew then why else I loved Plushenko. Because he had charisma, like Petrenko did, and when he skated, there was such joy in it; it's true that when Plushenko skates, you can see the passion.

My back muscles are doing that little twingy thing again. That twingy, achy feeling I always seem to get when I haven't been training for a long time.

Nice how my body seems to be pretty self-regulatory; I already know that on my own, I'll never sleep past 9 am, unless I'm extremely tired, and now my back muscles know when they need training! Madness. :P

I miss all the archery people already.


Training Camp '05.
Sigh. Those were such happy times. 

Just had an enlightening phone conversation.

I like talking on the phone. Well, with people that I want to talk to, that is. -_-

I vaguely remember how Pam and I could talk for hours about absolutely nothing at all in secondary school, haha. And that was before MSN was the "in" thing. Geez, that makes me feel old now.

There's something about hearing a voice and somehow being able to imagine another person on the other end of the line, which makes a phone call a warmer kind of interaction than MSN. But I digress, once again.

So I realise a few things now.


I think my people reading skills aren't too bad.

Comes from those long years of being a semi-outsider throughout my secondary school life; I've had plenty of practice observing people. As a result of that, I often see some of my secondary and JC school mates around in NUS; sometimes they notice me, and from their facial expressions, I know they can't place me. But I know exactly who they are. ;)


There are always limits.

Sometimes authority means nothing. Sometimes you want to make a difference. And then the world turns the tables on you like it's wont to do when things are going well, and nothing turns out like it planned. Because sometimes no one will listen. Because even among those who have power, there are those who have more. Because everything has a history to consider before it can be understood.


Not all silences are about holding their peace.

Sometimes they're about biding your time, waiting for the right people who will listen. Sometimes they're about waiting for things to swing in your favour. Sometimes they're about waiting for the departure of those who would stifle dissent. Waiting, always waiting, and about patience, knowing that the other side cannnot always be there to pin you down.


Don't push too hard or too much. You might not like it when there's a push back.

Human beings aren't saints. Sometimes when you hurl abuse, that abuse gets stored somewhere. It's waiting for a return address.


I understand now, more than ever, the meaning of sacrificing the minority for the majority.

Sometimes, yes, "it's not always about who is right, but the one who is more sensible to give in and salvage the situation".


It's a strange feeling to be both an insider and outsider at the same time.

It seems to be my lot in life, always neither here nor there, always somewhere in between. I always end up seeing the whole picture. And never being able to really do something about it.


"Absolute power corrupts absolutely." (Lord Acton, 1887)

I wonder if those it corrupts realise it.

Maybe it was bound to happen.

I had the feeling that something was gonna screw up during Outdoor itself, no matter how well (or how badly) I was shooting during training. And screw up it did, 60% of all my shots from 50m got blown off course, and they all landed off-centre, on the right. Even if I aimed off-centre, they'd still get blown off-course.

30m score was semi-wasted. 235. I've only started achieving 230+ recently after I decided that the bloody side stabilisers were, to quote Zhantao: "killing me more than helping me", and removed them. But it's still nowhere near the 272 that I've managed to achieve with my old jazz arrows.

Maybe I should've just stuck with using my main stabiliser all along. Maybe I shouldn't have listened when *he* suggested I put on the whole set.

That horrible gnawing feeling I've had all this time. My standard isn't good enough to win anything in C-class. I've known it for a long time, and all the training I've been doing hasn't helped. I hope I haven't reached the height of my ability yet. I need to be able to push this further.

NTU Open? Not bloody likely I'm gonna be able to win anything there. Maybe AAS this year was a fluke. Maybe I won something only because there were so many categories and that meant that with more categories open, there was less competition in the Open Category.

So I was ranked 4th. So what? There were all of *TEN* competitors in Open Cat. What good is fourth out of ten?

What good is it when there were only 5 competitors in IVP and I ended up fourth place again? I didn't win anything. There's nothing to show for fourth place, and no one cares. All that matters is that you have something to show for it.

I've always believed that the worst place to be is fourth; it's so close yet so far, the most wasted chance of all. And here I am. I told a few people jokingly that I'd cry if I didn't win something for Outdoor. I didn't believe I'd do it, but yesterday I did. Cry, that is. No one noticed, I think, and that's good.

Does it really count if you have the passion for it?

Does passion and love for it all count even if you can't win anything?

What does passion matter if you have nothing to show for it?

If you never have anything to show for the effort, how much longer can passion keep you going?

"You're a good archer."

Maybe I'll believe it when I see it.

Things I find on friends' blogs. And which I do because I have too much time on my hands. Which could probably be better spent on other things.

You scored as Journalism. You are an aspiring journalist, and you should major in journalism! Like me, you are passionate about writing and expressing yourself, and you want the world to understand your beliefs through writing. Journalism 100% Sociology 92% English 92% Linguistics 92% Theater 92% Anthropology 92% Philosophy 83% Psychology 75% Art 67% Dance 67% Engineering 58% Mathematics 58% Biology 42% Chemistry 17% What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!<3) created with QuizFarm.com

I did want to do journalism. Still do, actually. But it's nice to see that at least the major that I've already chosen comes a close second. :)

You Should Get a PhD in Liberal Arts (like political science, literature, or philosophy)

You're a great thinker and a true philosopher. You'd make a talented professor or writer.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

You Are 50% Boyish and 50% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

This just confirms my suspicions, really. :P

So this Valentine's Day was very different from last year.

And if last year's was the best Valentine's I'd ever had, then maybe this year's was.. hm. Well, I wouldn't say the most, but it was surprising.

I think the antagonistic world view that I have makes it easy for people to surprise me. This conception that I have of the world as a win-lose situation-- that the only way you can win is if everyone else loses, and there's no two ways about it: we can't all be winners, so you just have to work and be better. It's probably why archery works for me; it's "a solitary sport-- everyone else other than the winner will have lost".

I have this idea of myself as just moving in and out of people's lives.

It's something that I noticed about myself in JC2; I could fit in with any of the cliques in my class, but if I left, I was never missed. At least, not as far as I know. Not that I'm bemoaning it or anything; I just never figured that I left an imprint anywhere.

So the idea that people can remember me enough to want to buy me flowers, make me flowers, buy me little gifts, make me little gifts... sometimes astonishes me.

An orange rose is the first flower of the day; it's unexpected-- I didn't even want to be here today. I wanted to be as far away as possible from all this noise; all the flowers, all the cards, all the hugs, all the smiles.

An orange gerbera like a peace offering. Funny you still remember. I was tempted to say no. I wanted to say no. I didn't, and I still wonder why you bought it. Was it because everyone else was giving out flowers like they were their good deeds for the day? Was it for old times' sake? Was it because I just happened to be there? It was my mistake from the beginning, I know.

A champagne-coloured rose; the most surprising of all. I didn't think myself important enough to you. But maybe you treat everyone the same. We don't talk anymore, and you're always busy. I think I miss what you used to be like. Strange that all the guys who gave me flowers last year are still all the same people doing it this year.

A rose made from light purple ribbon and a smiling, self-proclaimed delivery boy. I think yours was the only one I can safely say was meant to celebrate the love between friends. Fitting that it'll last far longer than the other three.


...
I wonder why you're calling. I wonder why you still remember me. I wonder what I'm to say. And the silences feel really strange.

Well, how's life, then?

"Same old thing everyday. I bet all your guy friends tell you, what."

Half-stifled, uneasy laughter comes across the line, hanging in the static and space between us and I wonder how many other awkward conversations there are going on right now, all hanging up in the air and wondering why they aren't all tangled up. Maybe in the confusion, one of us might end up with the right person, after all.

I'm surprised you still have my number.

"I was actually afraid you might have changed it."

I haven't.

"I know. You answered."

It's quite a normal question to ask; where're you gonna go after this? But I don't ask because I think I don't want to know, so it's quiet all over again.

"Y'know.. did I ever tell you that with you, that was the first time I actually did something about what I was feeling?"

No. You didn't. But your friend did. But I can't tell you that.

"Well.. yeah. It was."

I know. And I'm sorry I dashed all your dreams. But that's another thing I can't say.


...
Funny how today I just noticed all the mixed messages I was getting from you.

I don't understand why you notice me. I don't understand why you sometimes ask questions and then make them end in a manner of no consequence. I don't understand why sometimes you smile at me like that, as if you expect me to say something. And I never know what to say or what it is you want to hear.

And just when I'm quite sure it all means nothing, you whisper half-jokingly and give me that conspiratorial grin; in the next minute, it's like it all never happened.

I shouldn't be doing this. I don't have anything to give, and I've had enough. Tell me, show me; anything you want. As long as it becomes clear and maybe then I'll know. Perhaps then I can tell you no.

"I need to go now."

"Okay."

Because there's nothing else I can say.

This situation looks familiar.

I'm sitting here, rushing out a response paper due at 10 am tomorrow during 3101 tutorial. Good thing it's only one page, font size 12, double-spaced. Should only be about 500 words or so.

But the thing is, I need to find a newspaper article with some sociological issue in it. And then I need to critique using either Karl Marx's or Harriet Martineau's theories.

Thought of writing about that whole cartoon thing with the Danish newspaper and all. Coz I have lots of stuff to say about that whole incident, but unfortunately, I don't think any of Marx's theories on capitalism will figure anywhere into the argument.

And as for Martineau? I'm not even really clear on exactly what she wrote about!!

Rejection of religion in the pursuit of scientific, empirical knowledge? Well, that's what she did, but I'm not sure that was her subject matter.

Instituitionalised discrimination? I can work with that.

Principles of value-neutrality and observing other cultures without prejudice?


..Hm.

Now there's something I can start with.

Blogging and random rambling does help. :)


Thinking of adding some stuff to this blog. Maybe that comments thingy that so many people have. Maybe a small little unobtrusive counter which almost no one will notice, but which I can refer to just to satisfy my curiosity as to just how many people stumble upon my little hole-in-the-wall of the Internet. :)

I can't help it; Cirque du Soleil productions always make me smile.

I grinned all the way through "Quidam" when I watched it last year, when they were here in Singapore. I laughed and cried while watching "Alegria" over and over again on tape. When Arts Central aired "Varekai", I felt a warmth and a smile that went right down to my toes.

And after the last two weeks of missing it, I've finally managed to catch their series "Solstrom" on Arts Central (which airs on Monday nights at 10 pm; I know, that's the same time as Desperate Housewives, but I promise if you choose to watch Cirque instead, you won't be disappointed ;D).

It's a 13-part series which focuses on the effect of a strange "solar wind" and the magical properties it imbues upon anything and anyone it touches, and the episode that I saw just now was the one entitled "Wind of Courage".

The boy performing the Aerial Straps took my breath away; he was just so goshdarned good. And he's only 16! Well, at the time of filming, that is.

Recognised a couple of acts from "Alegria" too; the Hoops act and the "Fire Dance"-- "Alegria" will always be my first Cirque love. :)

If everyone has a little child deep down inside them, then mine must linger a lot nearer to the surface than everyone else's.

I get amused and absolutely taken by the simplest and most everyday things in life. Jackson once said that I'm "like a small kid", always touching things, picking things up, putting things down, fiddling around with everything. But so what if I am..?

"To grow up is to grow used to the world". So while everyone grows jaded and whines about how everything is boring, why not refuse to follow the trend? Why not choose to laugh at the most trivial things; why not choose to smile in the face of everything that stays the same; why not pause to look longer at everything we take for granted, and appreciate it simply because it is here, here and now?

It's become a common saying among youth nowadays to claim that they're crazy. Well then, BE what you say you are.

Laugh as loud as you want because the next day the sky might fall down.
Scream at the top of your lungs because in the next hour, you might lose your voice. (And if you go on screaming, you might, heehee.)
Run as fast you can, jump as high as you can reach, dance till your feet are sore, because the ground might fall out from under you the next minute, or your legs might give way.
Dream as big and as much as you want because the next second you might never imagine again.

And when everyone turns to stare, know that for however brief it was, you lived just that little bit more than they have.

In so many ways, I conform. In so many ways, I don't. And thus, it is one of my favourite sayings: "You all laugh because I am different. I laugh because you are all the same."

Funniest thing happened yesterday.

My sis was taking out all her red packet takings and throwing away the red packets themselves, so I figured that maybe it was about time I did the same and put the money away.

Then I remembered that I still had red packets scattered somewhere in the back of my cupboard; last year, my dad told us not to throw away the red packets for some reason-- luck or something or other. So, I thought I'd take those out and throw them away too; I'd been too lazy before, heh.

Then as I was taking them out, one of them felt like there was still something inside.

Opened it, peered inside and $12 stared back at me.

Wah.

There's still money here...?!?!?!!

Four more packets each turned out $12 each, so now I have an "extra" red packet loot of $60! Mind you, *dollars*. Sing dollars. Not ringgit. Heehee.

I wonder sometimes why I always seem to notice the little things that don't really seem to matter.

And if I could do nothing but sit and watch the world go by, I would put it to paper, the ways in which the people in my life move and talk and imprint themselves on the canvas of my memories.


A gentle sort of almost-lisp in a smiling face and a lilting laugh. [N]

I imagine you two sitting on a boat, in the middle of a lake, which could never really exist here where we live, but which I can dream up for you anyway. And your fishing rods will bob intermittently, as you talk the day away, waiting for a fish to catch and the sun to set the water's surface aflare. [ZZ]

To love you so much and to love you so little. It seems you've changed, got even thinner over the months, but my heart twinges only when I stop to think. And even then, to my surprise I find, I struggle to remember your likeness; your face is half-hidden in shadow. [I]

So entirely unpretentious, moving through people's lives seemingly not knowing how you affect us all. And everytime it seems that with the gestures of love in return, you really are truly surprised. [P]

Not here and not there. I feel nothing and everything. But what I remember most was when you were talking to me, and the evening sun was shining from one side, lighting up our faces. And as the light illuminated everything, I noticed how your eyes were the lightest shade of brown I'd ever seen. And for a moment, I forgot what you were saying. [V]

Sometimes I look at you. Sometimes I watch you two. Sometimes I envy you. And then I think of what you told me once, what it was like when your other half went away. And you told me things would soon be better, but I think this is all they will be. And when I think about it, we're different; for was not someone always waiting for you? How unlike each other you two are, and yet, how well-matched. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see a veil and a white bow-tie. [RW]

How I love the way you write. A dreamy sort of meandering ramble that takes this life and makes a fantasy landscape of it all. And how you're always ready with a smile and an understated laugh, dry humour waiting in the wings as the strangest little things you sometimes do make my world a brighter place. I hope you're happy now, holding her hand and getting yourselves lost in all those pages upon pages of joy. [K]

The life of a Uni student can probably be characterised by one very salient trait. We never have enough money.

And before any of you go on to say that no one can ever have "enough" money, I mean "enough money" to spend on necesssities (or near-necessities).

I'd like to buy a laptop to make getting work done easier.

I'd like to buy my SC3219 textbook and keep up with my reading before I really fall behind.

I'd like to buy about 3 new blouses and 2 new pairs of pants.

I'd like to buy just a couple of the volumes of Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman" (to start with), since I just saw them yesterday at Kinokuniya. (I can't believe I've only *just* noticed them!)

I'd like to buy that copy of Karl Marx's "The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism" that I saw at the NUS Co-Op. (It costs about $21.)

I'd like to buy Bertrand Russell's "In Praise of Idleness" (by the same publisher as the Marx book; Routledge), which I saw at the MPH at Citylink Mall yesterday as well.

I'd like to buy a nice pair of sneakers, so that I'll have a suitable pair of shoes for almost any possible occasion. (I've come to the conclusion that we only need about four pairs of footwear: a pair of flip-flops for really casual wear; a pair of sandals for comfortable everyday use; a pair of sneakers for when sandals are a tad too casual/ don't fit what you're wearing and covered footwear is better; a pair of heels/ evening shoes/ court shoes for formal occasions.)

I'd like to buy a new set of Narnia books. My old box set which I bought when I was about ten is now all yellowed and battered, thanks to my sister's manhandling and indiscriminate lending out to *her* friends (despite the fact that they're *MY* books) and said friends' inconsiderate treatment of said books. I saw one item on Amazon.com just before the Narnia movie was released: a hardcover edition with all seven books in one, bound in red leather and with gilded pages. 50 pounds. Although for the Christmas season, the price was slashed to 30 pounds! Huh. Still can't afford it. Sigh.

I'd like to buy a nice washable tote bag that I can use on days when I have little more on my agenda than training; then I can just shove in a change of clothes, towel, toiletries and waterbottle and be off, without having to really arrange everything to make space. (I've given it some careful thought and have also come to the conclusion that I only need three bags. I have a backpack that I can use for school; a smaller bag that I can use when I go out with friends or when I have a lighter workload on some schooldays; a tote bag for training days. And on second thought, maybe a fourth bag: a small handbag that I can use on formal occasions.)

But all this can't possibly be done with my modest little angpao collection of about 400 RM. (Yes, ringgit. Because all my relatives are in Malaysia.)

The life of an undergraduate. We're a species that likes to live life on the edge; always walking that fine line between being completely broke and barely surviving. And there are times when some of us will invariably fall off into the deep end and be forced to "chi mian bao" for quite some time before we gain back our feet.

So next CNY, all you married folk, give all the undergraduates that you know more money in their red packets. :P