Will "Anonymous" please stand up?

Sometimes, I think people around me have more faith in me than me myself.

I wonder if I could call that blind faith?

After all, they don't know me and my weaknesses as well as I do.

Wahahahahahaha...

Anyway, it really made my day to receive a rather inspiring comment from "Anonymous" on my last posting.

"Anonymous said... You may think about it, but don't dwell on it. You are still young, and as far as I know, very talented in what you do. Keep it up, and find a place where you can shine, and who knows, you can be famous one day."

A booster like that is most welcome any time!

From the sound of it, we seem to know each other pretty well, Anonymous. Though, hahaha, you kind of made me sound like I am aiming to be a "Zhang Ziyi" or "Stefanie Sun"....which couldn't be further from reality.

Anyway, I guess it must be a mistake (or laziness on your part?) that you ended up as "Anonymous" when posting that comment?

So come on, kindly enlighten me on your identity so I can give buy you a coffee or something the next time we meet...while I try to make you tell me more nice things about myself.

Till then!

我怀念的。。。

七年前的今天必没有发生什么了不起的大事。

但这个日子，似乎已经被深深地刻在我的脑海里。

一直以来，9月27日总是会让我缅怀和莫一个人的一场交集。

可是到了今天，这个日子只是让我想起这一路上的自己。

如果时光真的能够倒流，若我能够回到2000年从新出发，今天的我，会是怎样的我？

To sum it up...

Life's been busy.

My mind's been wandering.

I am probably going a little crazy.

But otherwise, everything's reasonably dandy.

New Toy

After a decent amount of long and hard thinking (5 days - and another painful 30 minutes outside the Starhub shop at Cuppage), I finally made myself the deliriously happy owner of the Samsung Ultra Edition II U700.

Having gone through a few 'bimbotic' phones that prided form over function in my years as a mobile phone user, I now own a phone that's not only supremely chic and sleek, but which also boasts just enough high-tech trappings to silence most tech snobs.

Presenting, my little bundle of joy..

*MUACKS*

I Heart Singapore

Catching the National Day Parades on TV has always been a private affair that takes place in my room with no other person around but me and myself.

It has to be so for it can be embarrasing and awkward for all involved if I were to catch it with anyone else.

You see, I always, always, always sob uncontrollably (tears of pride) the moment those familiar and 'traditional' NDP songs come on, such as We Are Singapore.

I will sing along and take the pledge with gusto too.

And when the fireworks start, I will face the direction of my window and do a mouth-splitting silent scream of "Happy Birthday, Singapore!".

I know I probably sound like a real nutcase to you by now, but I am absolutely proud of Singapore and what she has managed to achieve at a such a young age (for a country). Especially when we started off 42 years ago on such shaky grounds.

More than that, I am truly grateful to be reaping the benefits of her achievements. And I am always amazed at my good fortune to be born a Singaporean.

However, I do know plenty of Singaporeans who have tons of bones to pick with the government and the way the country is being managed.

In fact, I have my fair share of dissatisfactions at times too.

Still, let's look at the big picture. Thanks to the never-let-up efforts of the government, we get to grow up - and continue to build our lives - in a society that is not only safe and stable, but also full of promise. One where the vast majority of the citizens never have to worry about not having a roof over their heads, about going hungry, or the ability to secure an education of up to tertiary level for themselves or their offsprings.

That's provided that we also take personal responsibility for managing our life, career and finance well, of course.

Which brings me to another issue - there are just too many Singaporeans out there who cry that they detest living in a nanny state. And yet, they are also the ones who are quick to kick up a big fuss whenever they encounter a situation in their lives that they think can be prevented or resolved if only the government would throw them a lifeline in the form of a government policy.

Now, the point is, Singapore is not perfect, nor will it ever be. No country will ever be perfect. Just like you and me.

And more importantly, a country will never be perfect because it can never please everybody at the same time. Along the way, certain unpleasant or unpopular decisions will have to be made in view of the long-term effects. It's just the way things got to be done sometimes - for the sake of greater good. While we only see how a certain policy is going to affect us right here right now, the people responsible for running the country are likely to have considered its possible positive effects up to a few decades ahead. While we only see what a certain policy will mean to our respective lifestyles, the policy-makers need to think in terms of an entire nation.

Of course, I am not suggesting that we should all flash serene smiles instead of pouting and stamping our feet each time we are reminded of the extra dollars and cents we now need to fork out for our purchases thanks to the increase in GST. In fact, occasionally, some issues can even irk me enough to spew a good amount of obscenities. Though I can see reason, I am still not saintly enough (and will never be) to not curse and swear a fair bit when my life is affected.

Yet, yet, yet...at the end of the day, I am still extremely proud and grateful to be a Singaporean.

Once upon a time, serious doubts were cast on Singapore's ability to be independent. However, she has made it to see the day when foreign governments are eager to tap into her experience and expertise in transforming and managing a country.

In some ways, I find the struggles and success of Singapore highly inspirational to me in a personal manner.

She was caught in bad circumstances with the odds stacked against her, and there did not seem to be much that she could use as leverage to launch herself out of the trench. But with careful planning, some bold strategic moves and loads of determination, she did it, and she continues to consistently ready herself to take on new challenges in an everchanging world.

As Singaporeans, we are blessed with the kind of security and stability that serves as an ideal canvas for our personal aspirations. The kind that many in other countries can only dream of.

It's high time we realised just how green our pasture is.

I love you, Singapore!

躲在衣柜的那一夜。。。

七年前七月至八月间的一个周日晚上，我接到了一通意想不到的电话。

为了能清楚且专心地好好和对方通话 (因为家里那台老爷电话老是发出沙沙声的杂音) ，我连人带电话地躲进了闷热的衣柜里，半蹲半坐地褒了将近一个多小时的“电话粥” 。

当时，电视上正播放着由郑彬辉 (Tay Ping Hui) 和沈倾剡 (Ix Shen) 主演的电视连续剧 <<随心所遇>>。


*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


七年后，在这七月至八月间，许久许久没在电视剧露面的沈倾剡(Ix Shen) 再次和郑彬辉 (Tay Ping Hui) 合演了<<保家卫国>>。

七年后，我再次如同七年前一样，有感人生和事业正处于一个全新的阶段。


*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


七年说长不长，说短也一点都不短。

这七年里，那位我超崇拜/欣赏的人物也有如登上了直升机一样，平步青云去了。

当然，在我认识他时，他的年龄和成就本来就不太成正比了。

至于我，这七年来就像是上了一堂理论兼实习课。。。虽然说不上是资优生，进度也不是很显著，甚至有些学习项目还可能“肥佬” 过，但是，现在的我已经更清楚该怎么去走接下来的路。

即使还是不会突飞猛进，但至少脚步会更坚定。

Seven Years In Never-Never Land

4 August 2000 was 7 long years ago.

But every little detail of that day remains vivid in my mind.

This date means a lot to me for various reasons - in particular, it was the day where two main aspects of my life officially took on a life of their own.

It was also the day where one innocent little prediction was made and subsequently forgotten, only to come true now.

Some days, I feel just like a jaded old granny who's lugging around bags and bags of life lessons and stories. And yet, occasionally, it seems to me that I am still that same relatively-carefree-19-going-on-20 girl all those 7 years ago.

Lalalalalalalalalalalalalala...

I'm turning psychic

No, seriously.

A series of dreams-turned-realities situations has prompted me to think that either Someone Up There is trying to send me a Message,
or I am really ready to start a business predicting the future through my dreams.


SITUATION 1

DREAM The Boyfriend of my good friend (let's name her 'A')
poured out his woes to me about the torn and tattered state of their relationship...clashes of personalities, habits and all.

REALITY I was roused from that dream by the incessant ringing of
my mobile. It was 'A'. In a cheerful sing-song voice that sounded just a tad too tight, she announced that it's all over with The Boyfriend.
After a particularly issues-fraught outing the night before, he had left for a business trip in the morning while she was still in bed, leaving behind an angst-filled letter in his wake. The letter detailed everything that's wrong with their relationship. The bottomline? He wanted a
re-think about The Future.

The dream and the reality wouldn't have weirded me out so much
if I had known that they had been experiencing difficulties in their relationship in recent times. It would have been normal if that's the case as the issue would probably sit on my mind a little. But I hadn't been giving their relationship much thought prior to the dream, since she had been regularly - and blissfully - assuring me that
all's well and nice.

And even The Boyfriend's appearance in my dream is weird,
since (A) I do not have a habit of dreaming about my friends' dudes, and (B) I don't know The Boyfriend all that well and I was never the main negotiator between them in times of past bust-ups. It would have made more sense for me to dream of 'A' crying on my shoulder instead.

More importantly, there's the timing of the dream and the call. Freaky.


SITUATION 2

DREAM Two sisters, Paprika and Pratasha, led a series of thrilling events in my dreamscape...events that I can't remember much of now.
I can only recall that I kept urging myself to keep in mind the name "Paprika". I also remember 'knowing' that she is the more important of the two heroines in my dream.

REALITY I was watching a documentary on Paris' worst rail crash in history on Arts Central the night after the dream when a trailer for a Japanese anime movie came on during the commercial break. However, I got distracted midway and missed the title of the movie.
A few minutes late, it came on again. This time, I caught the title. It's "Paprika".
:
Again, it would have been normal if I had been reading local mags or papers lately. Mentions (if any) of that movie might have crept into my consciousness without me realising so. But I haven't been reading local mags or papers recently (I rely solely on online news sites to keep in touch with the world these days).

What's more, 'Paprika' is a word that barely exists in my usual vocabulary. And I hadn't been near the potato chips aisle recently,
so there's little chance of that little word sneaking its way into my mind from a pack of chips. For the record, I have never bought or tasted anything Paprika-flavoured. This word simply isn't part of my life.

So what are the odds of me dreaming of a girl named Paprika and then chancing upon a movie by the title of 'Paprika' on a channel that
I hardly watch, less than 24 hours later? I am not a regular viewer of Arts Central. I used to be, but have not been so for quite a while.
I only tuned in to the documentary that fateful night after seeing its trailer on another channel.

I googled 'Paprika' the movie and found this synopsis:

In this Japanese anime epic, humanity's last bastion of privacy has finally been infiltrated by technology, the world of our dreams. The story centers on a new invention called the DC-Mini. With this revolutionary device, psychiatrists are now able to enter a patient's dreams in a therapeutic setting. But when an unknown assailant steals all of the devices, using them to enter peoples minds enacting mind control, chaos ensues as dreams begin to bleed into reality, and the thin line between the conscious and the unconscious begins to blur. Enter a young female researcher named Chiba, who takes it upon herself to delve into the newly anarchic dream world in order to set things straight. In this surreal realm her name is Paprika, and she's out to save the world.
















Note the premise that the movie is based upon. Note that line about dreams bleeding into reality. And note the female protagonist name. Freaky Freaky.


SITUATION 3

DREAM I'd turned Personal Assistant to Jolin Tsai and my task was to get ready a dress for her performance in my alma mater.
She fell sick at the eleventh hour and had to be admitted to hospital.
In another scene, Stefanie Sun confided in me that she could be preggers.

REALITY Of course I am no Personal Assistant of Jolin Tsai.
And of course Stefanie Sun is not preggers (well, I wouldn't know even if it's true, unless it's in the papers). But these two stellar money-printing machines appeared in completely separate stories in the front page of the same evening papers later that night. I saw it while picking up stuff at the supermarket.

Of course it's not uncommon for either Jolin Tsai or Stefanie Sun to make headlines. It's not even uncommon for them to be featured together on the same front page in a compare-and-contrast type of story. But when they appeared together in separate stories on the same front page of the same papers the same night that I had my dream in the morning, it left me feeling a bit weird out...again.
And again, those two characters had not been occupying my mind recently, and neither did I just hear any news relating to them.
This dream is not as freaky as the first two...but when I total them up, the freakiness index simply shoots to the sky. Freaky Freaky Freaky.

And that sums up why I think I am either turning psychic or
Someone Up There is cuing me to start paying attention
to my dreams. That is, one day, something important
(like 4 numbers) will be revealed to me via Channel Dreams.

Or maybe I have simply lost my marbles.

My Castle In The Air (Version 1.0)

One day, my dream house will be home to such beauties:

Attack of the Gigantic Fly Swatter in Old Hollywood

A friend sent me a picture of the $300-a-piece throne his company had so kindly bought to cushion each of their butts and backs while they slog it out at work.

Apparently, it is highly adjustable and so comfy that it completely justifies the price.

I certainly understand the importance of the comfort level of the office chair...it does make those 14-hour workdays much easier to bear.

However, let's not forget about aesthectic. An individual work space that's pleasing to its dweller's eyes is just as important.

So while I suspect I might never settle for any other office chair ever again once my butt touches this throne that my friend's butt is now resting on for 5 days a week (unless it's another even more expensive, even more comfy chair), I don't think I will ever get over its ugliness.

To be fair, this expensive piece of office furniture can be matched to words like 'sleek' and 'urban'.

But to little ol' me, it really is just a gigantic fancy fly swatter.

And now, this is the type of office chair that will make me look forward to heading to work any day. In fact, it might just yield even-better quality work from me.

Yes of course I realise that this classic-hollywood-ish piece doesn't look terribly comfy, but it's nothing that a nice white furry cushion and a curled-up sitting position won't solve.

And the bottomline is this: I probably wouldn't pay $300 for the gigantic fancy fly swatter (unless it really is that heavenly on the butt and back), but I would glady shell out $3,000 for this lovely old-world powerseat (which will probably make me a prime target of Deep Vein Thrombosis).

So there you have it - I am the epitome of those funny form-over-function people.

But only as far as non-living things-which-don't-count-as-a-huge-investment-like-houses are concerned. When it comes to the more financially serious stuff or humans, my good judgement will not be impaired by aesthetics.

Seldom, anyway.
.
.
.
.
.

Dawn's Fantasy Professional Persona

Oooh La La!!!

A little sunshine in a dark, dark world

I realise the title is a tad misleading.

To clear it up a bit, this blog entry is not about me suddenly chancing upon a glimmer of hope in Gloomyville.

Hell no, I am by default a happy lark these days.

You'd be justified in thinking that I might be a little down in the dump though, for my wobbly world is indeed in a glorious state of disarray. One that comes complete with irregular income (read: I've turned freelance for now), irregular hours (freelance doesn't mean I get to be freed from l-o-n-g working hours, albeit I'm based at home), and of course, the occasional emotional roller-coaster rides on a regular basis.

But surprise, surprise, I am feeling faaabulous, darrrling! Well, at least, I do feel that way most of the time - you'd have to excuse those

only-human downtime once in a while. I would blind you with a set of Hollywood-worthy pearly whites if I could, just to prove my point, but my dentist is holding them ransom till I hand over a minor fortune good enough for me to adopt a few World Vision children till well past my life expectancy.

So now, having set the facts straight on what this blog entry is not about, it's time to get the real topic going before you exit this site in frustrations, cursing and swearing that I am a lousy writer who didn't grasp the concept of economy of words nor the art of holding her readers' interest. Even more ghastly, one who's afflicted with a bad case of incoherence. That would be terrible. But there might just be some truth to it. Oh gawd.

Before this gets any worse, here's the topic of the day...*drumroll*...
Black Comedy.

I love black comedy. There is just so much beauty in the way these films are treated, where serious and disturbing subjects the likes of death, murder and sickness are played out in a humorous and satirical manner.

Normally, humour and satire would look out of place in such scenarios. Yet, they are like what a few squeezes of the lime is to Fried Hokkien Prawn Mee - they infuse a certain piquance to the films' heavy flavours.

At the same time, given the right plot/directing/acting, they tend to lend a heightened sense of poignancy to the characters' plights. In fact, the drama factor is usually a few notches higher than if the same subjects had been done in a typical high-octane way.

Most black comedy films I caught so far kicked off innocently with scenes where good cheer and a general sense of happiness seem to prevail. Then things began to go dangerously wrong, while the soundtrack maintained a determinedly light and pleasant note.

Like this particular music that's currently playing as you read this blog entry (play it now if you already turned it off...tsk tsk).

It's seems like any other easy-listening number at the beginning until the notes start to veer off-tangent and the mood shifts to something that's much darker and a little more dangerous.

This number, "Fairy Tales" by Great Uncles of the Revolution, would be perfect for one of the final few scenes of a black comedy where a femme fatale managed to get away with murder, literally.

In my warped imagination, at the start of the music, we see a femme fatale greeting her guests in a house in a cheery, animated fashion, with no tell-tale signs of what's to come. As the music continues, she's seen to be happily going about putting into action her intentions to kill, in an efficient manner.

The murder-in-progress scene then gently fades off to a scene of a nice open-air marketplace like those in European countries. A pair of shapely gams strolls past the various quaint little stalls, with the hem of a sundress swaying gently along to the movements. The owner of those gams stops to admire some roses. The camera moves in front of her and we see the murderous femme fatale taking a deep whiff of the blooms, a wide, innocent smile on her face. The film then signs off with a scene of the horrific mess of the murder site, with cops milling around collecting evidence, snapping pictures.

Obviously, these final few scenes should ideally incorporate an unexpected twist. But then I would need to work in a few more characters in order to do that, and I can't do that when there's not a story to begin with anyway. Ha.

Oh...and just so you know, in case you are in desperate need of some reassurances after reading this blog entry, I am perfectly sane and perfectly non-murderous. I don't even have a habit of entertaining frivolous murderous thoughts - ok, perhaps only when clients really, really, really rile me up.

But 'fess up, you are probably as guilty of that as I am.

P.S. Check out "He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not" here, starring the lovely Audrey Tautou.

A crash course in cooking...and life in general

I have been studiously picking up a trick or two from my mum on the fine art of putting food on the table over the past few months.

And though I am not capable of whipping up a feast fit for kings yet, I can now proudly declare that I can put together a wholesome, edible and likely-to-be palatable meal that will not require the diner to make a dash for the emergency room and go home (gleefully) with a 1-week medical leave.

Now, my still-slightly-questionable-but-gradually-improving cooking skills aside, I realise that life is like a session in front of the stove and wok.

I hate to go all Forrest Gump here, but sorry folks, that's the truth.

You see, when it comes to cooking, getting the raw materials for the dish is easy. Getting the array of seasonings required is easy. And getting a rough estimate of the cooking time is easy too - just refer to the recipe or the mums/mum-in-laws etc of the world.

The tough part is everything else that follows once the cooking begins and you are left on your own.

Different woks react differently to heat, and the cooking time can differ vastly. And heat control is another intellectual-meets-intuition topic altogether. And of course there's the amount of each seasoning to use, which may not always be in direct proportion to the amount of raw materials you have. That is, it is not always a simple mathematical question of 1 teaspoons of soy sauce for 1 chicken breast and therefore 2 teaspoons for 2 chicken breasts...after all, it is a matter of personal taste.

Life's just the same, isn't it?

It is not that tough to set a goal and know what you have to do to get what you want.

The difficulties instead lie in figuring out just when to exactly to start, when to stop, when to go all out, when to hold back, when to stick to the rules and when to improvise...and the list continues.

So now you know...if you would like to rule the world someday, it's time you worked those woks.

Happiness is the simple things

Happiness is...getting under the duvet before 12am, freshly showered, with nothing on my mind except thoughts of a good breakfast the next morning.

Happiness is...waking up naturally without the aid of a shrill alarm, with a contented smile on my face, and a sense of well-being radiating from every pore, matched by an upbeat soundtrack in my head (unlikely as it sounds, it happened before - more than once, in fact).

Happiness is...coming home to my favourite homecooked dishes by my favourite person in the whole wide world...
mommmmmmmmmy!!!

Happiness is...those anticipation-charged moments before the sounds from a new CD come through from the player.

Happiness is...accepting that it is fine to fall flat on my face once in a while. In fact, it is fine too if I wanna lie there and whine for a while - because I will always jump right back on my feet once I have had enough.

Happiness is...when Marian Keyes, Adele Parks, Louise Bagshawe, Plum Sykes, Sophie Kinsella and Candace Bushnell come up with new novels.

Happiness is...looking out of the window in my room in the early evening, when the sun casts its orange glow on the trees, and birds chirp cheerily as they return to their nests.

Happiness is...every latest issue of my fave mags.

Happiness is...receiving a "idle-chatter" kinda call or SMS from a good friend on a boring afternoon.

Happiness is...being really really really silly with my really really really silly but-oh-so-lovely puggies.

Happiness is...seeing how pissed off Ron the Pug can get when we stoically refuse to acknowledge his endless whines for snacks, snacks and more snacks.

Happiness is...finally learning that it is ok to not conform to all the norms out there.

Happiness is...hearing my mommmmmmy's glass-shattering singing drifting in from the kitchen (her unofficial office) into my room (my unofficial office).

Happiness is...munching on Calbee's Hot & Spicy Potato Chips.

Happiness is...the occasional realisation that I have the power to change my life, even if I sometimes feel powerless.

Happiness is...International buffets, Churrascaria restaurants and Chinese eating houses with dumplings and beer on their menus.

Happiness is...having homemade breakfast with my mum at West Coast Park.

Happiness is...downing a mug of beer on a warm afternoon.

Happiness is...dressing down and hanging out with dear friends over a little alcohol and loads of nonsensical chatter.

Happiness is...having made stupid mistakes earlier in my life, so I wouldn't make the same ones in future - hopefully.

Happiness is...the look, the feel and the scent of my freshly-cleaned boudoir.

Happiness is...Bak Chou Mee (with loads of lard and vinegar), Fried Hokkien Prawn Mee (with loads of lard and chilli), Chicken Rice (with breast meats and loads of chilli) and Fried Oysters (with loads of oysters and chilli).

Happiness is...loads of fresh salmon slices with loads of wasabi and loads of soy sauce.

Happiness is...large servings of kimchi, kimchi hot pot rice, kimchi pancakes, Korean BBQ beef, and a large pot of Korean specially mixed "50-year-old wine"...complemented by cigarettes.

Happiness is...Choco & Coffee biscuits by Bourbon.

Happiness is...going all out to do a great job when it seems humanly impossible and getting it right in the end.

Happiness is...waking up at 7.30am, jogging at 8.00am, and having a sinfully indulgent breakfast at 9.00am.

Happiness is...toasts with garlic spread or toasts with
butter and jam

Happiness is...the joy of knowing that there are always family and friends who love me - people I can count on.

Happiness is...having worthy people in my life - people worth caring for, people worth worrying about.

Happiness is...a tub of Ben & Jerry Strawberry Cheesecake
Ice Cream.


Happiness is knowing that it really isn't that tough to be happy.

My Cupcake is here!

Oooh this is a lovely day!

My dear Cupcake is at my place!

This is nice, nice, nice!

Hahahahahahahahahahaha!

A beautiful night...

The sky is crimson red, and rain is pelting down hard on the ground.

There are stray raindrops on the screen of my laptop.

Outside, the million trees that line the landscape around my block are swaying wildly to the momentum of the wind.

It is a beautiful night.

Just like a star across my sky...

You are like an unreachable star that shines bright from afar.

I struggle to find that promised silver lining in my cloud.

Years go by and it seems like everything has changed.

And yet it is still the same.

You are always a trillion steps ahead of me.

Confessions of a terrified late 20-somethinger

If my life is a movie screenplay and I am the screenwriter, I'm in serious trouble.

You see, somewhere along the line, I've lost the plot.

Everything started out promisingly enough.

For many years, I knew what the story was going to be like.

I knew what the protagonist (me) was gunning for in life, at work and everything else.

Yet, overnight, ok - over many days and nights or even years, without me consciously realising it, the significance of practically every issue and other leading characters in my life had changed.

Heck, even the significance of me in my very own life seemed to have undergone a major overhaul.

And as if having to re-work the screenplay from scratch isn't nerve-wrecking enough, I have no idea just how I would like the story to continue.

Saying that it's a terribly unsettling situation would be the understatement of the century.
.
Having said that though, I am not afraid. Ok, I am afraid,
yet not a-f-r-a-i-d.

Am I still making sense to you?

Let me put it this way - this situation is doing a great job of keeping me awake at night, and it even has its ways of sneaking into my dreams such that I wake up to find my heart at the pit of my stomach most times.

However, and this is a big HOWEVER, I do know I am still going to get my story back on track someday - somehow.

Perhaps it's the confidence gained from how I had deal with myself in various previous similar-yet-somewhat-different situations.

Or maybe I just made up this belief in my subconscious mind to keep me sane.

Oh god...now that's a real scary thought.

Anyway. I know I will get everything straightened out again. It may take some time, but it will happen.

The plot may be a very different one. Or it may only have subtle changes that no one who had seen the original story could discern.

But I would know.

Whatever it may be in the end, it will be a movie where the soundtrack boasts stirring, cheery, uplifting numbers, and everyone will leave the theatre happy.

Because it will be a happy movie.

OMFG. I am a real drama queen.

生与死之间，多少时间

我们都知道自己不可能永远存在在这个世界上。

总有那么一天，会是我们活着的最后一天。

只是，我们都不会知道倒数会从什么时候开始。
即使我们一点都不稀罕长命百岁，即使我们时常都会很“潇洒” 地说自己也不希望活太久，可是我想我们没有一个人会真正希望在不是自然老死的状况下离开人世。

今天是6月20日。

去年的今天，一位年仅24岁的友人不幸在军训中途溺毙，走了。

那一天，也是我到Desaru度假的第一天。我启程的时间是早上9点左右。可是我却是独自一人在公司赶工至凌晨5点才托着疲惫的身躯回家收拾行李。抵达度假村的时间是大约中午12点30分。到了下午三点，我和朋友便雇了一辆德士往城里去。

我之所以会在一年后还那么清楚地记得所有时间的细节是因为到了大约傍晚时分，我接到了这位友人的死讯。而从那一刻开始，我便开始想很多。

在我的人生里，我是从那天凌晨5点就开始期待并倒数一个美丽假期的开始。

但对于我那位已过世的友人，他的人生旅程其实也已经在那个时候进入倒数最后一刻的阶段。

只是他一点也不知道，也没有可能会知道。

人生真的有很多的未知。。。也有很多事是在我们的掌控之外的。

所以我们都要尽力地活得充实，活得精彩，活得骄傲。

但也不是只为自己而活。。。也要为他人而活，为身边的家人和好朋友带来幸福和快乐。

这位友人 完全做到了。

可以这么说，他做人真得做得很成功。

虽然他的早逝很令人惋惜和遗憾，但是，至少他这一生没有白活。

Lionel, 我为你感到很骄傲。

为什么非要当林中之王？

大概从十年前起，我就一直很想重游动物园。

两个月前，我终于和好友们实现了我这个原本就一点都不难实现的愿望。

园中有很多逗趣可爱的小动物，但让我印象最深刻是一向以凶猛见称的老虎。

或许因为长期被饲养在“好吃好住” 及无须为江湖地位和保住小命而时时准备张牙舞爪的动物园里，老虎们在它们的院子里都表现出一副非常“与世无争”的样子。

他们时而为彼此抓痒，时而调皮地故意激怒对方，玩起追逐游戏。。。然后再“扑通” 一声双双跳进里小河里嘻戏。

它们似我家那两只善良可爱的巴哥狗。。。它们看来很快乐，很满足，很幸福。

有人说，野生动物应该属于大自然，不应该被“囚禁” 起来。

但是，若我那天见到的老虎们会说话，或许它们会说，“谁要回到大自然过那种有一餐，没一餐，活得过今天，不知道有没有明天的日子啊？！”

能够做林中之王当然威风，能够在一大片森林中自由自在地闯荡当然潇洒，可是。。。那样的生活也是一种生存游戏。天天活在高度戒备的状态中，不知什么时候会有什么敌人出现，不知谁能相信，谁会治自己于死地。。。这样的生活真的会快乐吗？

我想，动物园中的老虎或许偶尔会做个白日梦，幻想自己在森林中称王。

森林中的威猛虎爷们也或许会偶尔渴望过着平静安逸的日子。

这里特别为动物园中的老虎们献上一首改编自<<小人物的心声>>副歌的小曲子。。。

“我从来就不在乎/我是动物园里的老虎/无须为了午餐头破血流/想到森林的老虎辛辛苦苦/成天斗得血肉模糊/只为了林中之王的称呼”

It's out there

When us mere mortals are looking to join an online community to connect with the rest of the world, we get an enviable long list of choices like Friendster, Multiply, hi5 and such.

For the Really Rich & Fabulous set, they are quite content with just a single option - aSmallWorld.

A private online community of the world's jet-set elite, and renowned for its very restricted membership, aSmallWorld features an exclusive mix of business tycoons, American socialites, old-school family names, nouveau-riche newcomers and minor European royalty, and of course, celebrities.

In other words, if you happen to find yourself invited to aSmallWorld (membership is strictly upon invitation by existing members), you are likely to find yourself two or three friends away from a direct connection wtih Herbert William Hoover IV - from the clan whose family name is synonymous with vacuum cleaners, Ivanka Trump, daughter of Mr. Donald "You're Fired" Trump, and Quentin Tarantino, among other big personalities.

Your friends' profiles will typically feature photos taken at shoots for renowned magazines too, probably Vogue. And instead of in-your-face ads that say "Lose 30 lbs in 30 days", you will be greeted by sleek advertising from companies that want to introduce a gorgeous new toy to your existing yatch collection.

Just to illustrate the point further, a typical question on the forum will be along the line of, "Is Dior having its St Tropez party again this year?". Note: This will be posted by people who are not asking out of plebian curiosity, but real insiders who are expecting a personalised invitation.

All these may take a little bit of getting-used-to, of course. Especially if you have grown very accustomed to friends who insist on assuming online identities like TechnoFreak, Barbie or DarthVader, complete with profiles that see them giving a death-stare while straddling their bikes, or looking up coyly at camera-phones held 15cm above eye-level.

There's no hurry, though. Most of us will probably need a few lifetimes before we get anywhere near anyone who has the clout to invite us into this inner sanctum. Well, unless Ivanka Trump happens to descend in Singapore for a backpacking trip (just to experience the simple life, you know), get lost in Chinatown, and form a strong girly bond with me when I happen to be at the right place and at the right time to offer some assistance.

Oh forget it - I am happy with Friendster.


P.S. Obviously, I couldn't go beyond the Welcome Page of aSmallWorld.net. But from what little I had seen, I can't help but ask - although money can't buy you taste, surely it can buy you the services of a good web designer?

               Ivanka Trump                          Quentin Tarantino