Just realised the previous post I made was about 8 years ago... A long time ago. But recently I had this thought - words reflect the state of mind better at the moment, in a way that photos can't, it's pretty interesting to look back at what was going on through my head in the past. Sometimes you just can't fathom how it was until you see the written evidence. Went to wild wild wet yesterday, 1st August. Took half day leave. It was a cold day, which suited me perfectly. The previous time we went a few weeks back some rides (1 tower) were closed, and this time it was open. I was pleased. There was a yellow slide that looked pretty intimidating called free fall. It looked really steep, almost vertical, and I thought about 3-4 storeys high. I am afraid of heights, so I decided I must do it to overcome the fear - exposure therapy. Besides, I had done the torpedo before, so this should be easy right? So I spied the description while heading up to take the ride. "6 storey height and near vertical drop", it got to me. I was thinking about it as I climbed the stairs. Just had MacDonald's for lunch, so the pit in the stomach feeling was slightly exacerbated. At the top I noticed they had shielded the slide entrance, so you couldn't really see how far you were about to drop. But I decided to peer over the shield anyway, because I want to conquer the fear and stare it in the face. You tell yourself the fear is irrational, the slide is safe as it's been engineered to be so. That the fear of stepping in and smashing yourself to bits is impossible. But the mind still likes to whisper "what if?". But then one must conquer the irrational fear, so then I went for it, and the feeling that came brought its own clarity.

The moment micro gravity, weightlessness sets in, at that moment you feel your heart stop. It's like the road runner cartoon, when the cayote chases after the road runner onto some high ledge that has disappeared, and in that moment he hangs in the air, and then drops like a sack of rocks. The heart stopping feeling just overwhelms, and then just blind speed and it's over. But it was better than the torpedo as you can see the surroundings as you race down. Its better than the torpedo because you don't really feel like you're drowning. I went for the slide twice. We went on the lazy river, Ruixi was so cold her lips turned a little blue, it was pretty scary. But she had fun competing with Ruiqi, I was on the same team as her as we competed against En and Ruiqi to swim faster.

It was a really fun day, we had Astons subsidiary for dinner, it was pretty decent. Had bubble tea but forgot to use favepay for it again.

I realised my more recent blog posts are done on Tumblr, which explains the 8 years gap. So I shall jump back there.

WOOO! Today was gooddddd! A revelation indeed. Though I lost my handphone, it was worth it. The experience is beyond description. But I shall try.

It all started when Leon Khee asked me on wednesday whether I could make it on Friday for a trip to Universal Studios Singapore because he had spare tickets. I had work on Friday, so I was torn.

Make money, or have a good time? I was starting work on Thursday and it wouldn't be very nice if I just told them I couldn't work on Friday. After all, it was a 4 day stint.

But Universal Studios?! Leon Khee said that it was worth $60 and the tickets were sold out for the first 2 weeks. This wasn't an opportunity to be missed! So I bit the bullet, and come Thursday, I told the supervisor I couldn't work on Friday. YJ kindly volunteered to take my place.

And I must say - one of the best decisions of my life.

I stayed at my sister's house on Thursday after hapkido training. Learned the scissors leg takedown. After watching it on youtube I thought it would be a cinch doing it.

It wasn't - to execute it you have to jump. Something like a dropkick. Both your legs have to be off the ground and around the person's body and legs. So that leaves your head and body hanging in the air unsupported. Which means you could potentially face plant into the ground if you don't do it right.

And I actually did. Faceplant I mean. Luckily it was on the foam pads. But then that was on the instructor who was resisting the takedown. But it's a poor excuse.

I digress.

So anyway I stayed at my sister's house, woke up at 7.20 in the morning, even thought I set the alarm for 7.50. It seemed my body knew that there was a good day ahead. I borrowed my sister's camera. I checked and the battery bar on the LCD display was all white - I took it to be full. Fool


The party consisted of Leon Khee, SL, Chiam, Wah Kiat and me. Our target was 10 times of each ride.

Had breakfast at Seah Im food centre. Not much of a breakfast. 3 fishballs and 1 iced milo. I asked Chiam what he had for breakfast.

He answered,

"Cereal"
"Cereal with milk?"
"Ya with milk."

What a brave man.

We took the bus from Vivocity - RWS 8 to the themepark. I had my camera on at this time, and the battery bar was flashing after a few photos. I dismissed it as some technical error. It'd fix itself, I hoped.

We stand at the threshold of the casino. We ask some woman to help us take a photo, because the security guard is not allowed to. Or so he claims. She does so, and proceeds to make the floor the subject. The security guard walks pass just before she takes the photo. What an idiot

We go up to the entrance of Universal Studios, take a few more photos, then we head in. Let the good times roll!

The weather was perfect. Not too sunny and no dark clouds in the distance. I was enjoying my decision.

After entering, there were stacks of studio guides/maps waiting to be taken. As usual, SL took a stack and jokingly handed it to me. I obliged, putting the whole stack into my bag. I had a feeling we'd need them later.

We walked down "Hollywood", and there was a photo opportunity with Frankenstein. Who could resist? I pulled a Lester and touched his chest before the photo. It felt human. Dang!

We took a few pictures at the fountain in front of the Hollywood area.

So we wandered along to our first ride - King Julien's Beach Party-Go-Round. A carousel. Whoopee weeeee! I have to admit, I can't remember the names of the rides we did, except for the exhilarating ones. I'm referring to the studio guide. Which I still have quite a few copies of.

We saw it in action. It was as exciting as could be expected from a carousel. But we remembered our target, and took the ride. I called dibs on the old woman, I didn't want to be riding on no darn beast!

The ride was uneventful, but at the start of the ride while trying to snap pictures of SL and Chiam on their steeds I realised the camera was really out of battery. Shit! I wasn't pleased at all, as SL was saying his camera was running out of battery as well. As Leon Khee put it before we entered - Pics or it didn't happen. At least that was the gist of it.

We spied a roller coaster after getting off the carousel. Turned out it was "Enchanted Airways", which according to the brochure is a junior roller coaster. The signs around the roller coaster were pretty hilarious. Check out the facebook photos.

There was a sign near the roller coaster that read: "Days without crash" below which was one of those number flip charts. It was set to 1. Not exactly confidence inspiring.

We waited a few minutes for the ride. The ride lasted 30 seconds or less. Weak, but it would serve as a warm-up.

Next, we headed to the Shrek 4-D adventure. Before entry to the chamber, there was a yalam staff briefing us on the rules. No taping, no video recording.Of course, all in the theme of Shrek. Her english sucked. She was explaining the term flogging, for the entrance to the 4D chamber was supposed to be dungeon of sorts. I don't know what she said beforehand, but she kept saying "Videotaping is a flogging! Photography with flash is a flogging!" What the hell?

I realised after a while that the figures inside the crates suspended above were the 3 little pigs - non-kosher, as Wenpu would put it. At first I was thinking they were all pinocchios, and I was wondering why there were 4 pinocchios. Then I realised they were pork.

The 4D show was ok, not bad, but the 3D effect seemed pretty weak at times. I wonder whether it was my lazy eye or it was just lousy. The models also seemed to lack detail, or maybe I'm just being picky.

After we came out, we saw the ferris wheel. It was a joke. Indoor with one side facing the wall, and probably a grand total of 3 stories high. We obviously had no intention of sitting it, but Leon Khee was admamant, reminding us of our target. Fortunately we were more adamant, and the queue and the slowness of the ride let us convince Leon Khee it would be a waste of time.

We moved on to The Lost World next. Dinosaurs!!!! We queued up for the Canopy Flyer - it took around 5 minutes or more. For a ride that was like 30 seconds. The staff was very slow in launching the ride. SL was pointing out an old man who had the back of his shirt soaked with shirt.

"It's only half of the day of the first day, and he's already sweating so much. Imagine when it's more crowded, he'll die."
-on the inefficencies and lack of speed of the staff at Canopy Flyer.

I was suggesting to SL that they should utilise the chair lift system. The ride just keeps going with no stoppage. It'd be much faster, and more exciting as you'll have a set amount of time to get on or die trying.

Our next ride was Jurassic Park Rapids Adventure. It was, as to be expected, going to get us wet. Luckily I had studio guides. Plenty of them.

The floating device we were seated in was slightly wet. I used one for my back and one for my seat.

Some dinosaur squirted water on me as well. Sad to say, it was a well planted ambush, and even with a spare studio guide up as a shield, I did not manage to block it.

I had read about the ride on Life, the writer was recalling his experience on the rides. He mentioned that whoever sits on the side facing the plunge would get the most wet. Throughout the ride, I was wondering which plunge we was referring to, and there were many false alarms. But when the plunge came, so did clarity. The moment where you chide yourself for being so stupid as to mistake the other parts of the ride as the moment you were about to face.

Then water, lots of it.

Fortunately, not on me. Hahahahahahahaha.

The cursing and swearing that ensues. Why me? The question that never fails to be asked. The reactions of Leon Khee and Wah Kiat were hilarious.

Why not? Better you than me. The reply that hangs in the subconscious of the onlookers, but only finds its expression in laughter. Hahahahahaha

To be honest, I was a victim too. My bag fell into the canal between the seats, and got soaked. But, better my bag than me! Of course some water splashing onto my pants couldn't be avoided as well.

But this was comparatively mild. Wah Kiat said his underwear was soaked.

It was 15 minutes to 12 by the time we were done laughing, and as decided earlier we decided to grab a bite then head for the waterworld show. We went into the foodcourt, but the queue was long and we wouldn't be able to make it in time if we ate there, so we grabbed a bite at Fossil Fuels instead. Which is a fancy name for a hotdog shack.

Now the Coney Island hot dog was $3.80, while the normal plain hot dog was $5.80. This led us all to wondering what exactly the Coney Island hot dog was. We found out soon enough. Fried batter on a sausage. Which wasn't what we expected. Though we didn't expect the sausage to be cold either. But it was.

We had our sausages, then headed to the Water World show.

It was disappointing. Couldn't really make out what the actors were saying, in part due to their accents and partly due to the poor sound system. Of course, nobody comes to a show in Universal Studios to hear the fabulous dialogue, the action is where it's at. The pyrotechnics were plentiful, but the timing left a lot to be desired. Or maybe my standards are just too high.

The 2 things that struck me the most from the show. The l33t jetski skills, and the muscular female lead. The REALLY muscular female lead.

After the show ended we rushed to the Battlestar Galactica roller coaster - playtime was over. The clouds were ominous, we had a target to meet.

We took the cylon ride first. Before you take the ride you have to put your bags in a locker. The first 30 minutes for the locker was free.

We didn't think much about this system at first, but later when we had time to think about it we were wondering, what happens when your free 30 minutes are up? Consider that you are SUPPOSED to place your valuables inside, which include your money. So what would you pay the locker fee with? That is a question to ponder. A most cunning way to make money, leaving you either to beg for money, or beg the staff to open the locker. Which would probably only work if you promise to pay an astronomical fee.


Battlestar Galactica Cylon
For the first ride, I sat in the front row with Justin.

I was blown away. All the previous rides had only given me minor thrills at best.

But the Cylon... On the first ride I was scared. I was afraid the restraint would come off, sending me into the pillars or the ground. I kept imagining the consequences of either - not pretty. I considered the competencies of the people who built the ride - whether they had tested it well enough, whether my legs were going to smash into the ground, whether the carriage would derail. All groundless fears, but still they kept running in my head.

I hung on tight to the restraint, gripping for my life. The Gs were so strong i was mostly in a hunched position throughout the ride, abs contracted and leaning down. I wasn't the only one, Wah Kiat felt the same.

I think we were all quite astounded by the ride, all except SL. He really is a nutter. He seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed it without a single moment of fear or doubt. Either that or he hid it really well. He was extolling upon us the virtues of raising your hands while taking the ride. I have to admit his insanity rubbed off on me.

After all, what's the worst that could happen? He assured us there was nothing to fear. And I in turn repeatedly assured Leon Khee if he were to die his family would get a sizable payout from Universal Studios.

After the ride, we had to exit and make our way back to the entrance to get on the ride again. It was quite a long walk. We couldn't just get on again even though there was nobody on the ride. We were not pleased. Apparently if you have the Universe Express card you can do that.

Right after the ride, I realised my handphone was missing. Just before the ride started, while waiting on the seat, I had checked my left pocket for my phone. It had been there. But it wasn't any more. I hoped that I had probably left it in my bag in the locker, but I knew that probably wasn't the case. My adrenalin was still pumping though, so I put it off as a worry for later.

We headed to the Human ride.

Compared with the Cylon ride, the human one was mild. The only exciting part was right at the start, when you got lifted off the seat. Otherwise it was nothing mind blowing. By this time SL's words of advice had taken root - There was nothing to fear. So I raised my hands and had a good time.

After the Human ride we headed back to the Cylon. Nothing like conquering your fear. SL was shouting at Leon Khee to raise his arms. I took up the cries as well. But Leon Khee only half raised them, even after all the air in my lungs was spenting haranguing him to raise his arms. Pussy. But the effort was there. A few more and he'd man up.

As part of the training, we went for the Cylon twice. 3 down, 7 to go.

Then we decided to go try the indoor Mummy rollercoaster. A little variety never hurt. We took our bags from the locker. My handphone wasn't there. Dang! The clouds were getting slightly grey.

The "Revenge of the Mummy" roller coaster entrance consists of a huge maze, in semi-darkness with lamps alternating between dim and dimmer punctuating the darkness. It was scary? If you were alone I guess. But then it stretched on and on and on. Until we were left wondering whether we had stumbled into the wrong entrance and the maze was actually the main attraction.

After a long trek through the maze with us trying to cut through and getting lost in the process a few times, we finally managed to get to the ride. After the Cylon, we weren't expecting much, but the question we posed to the attendant garnered a reply that led to some optimism. The top speed of the "Revenge of the Mummy" was only a few miles less than the Cylon according to her.

Nice.

I sat at the front. The ride was good, offered something different from the Cylon. I asked SL whether he raised his hands. He said he didn't cause it was too dark to see if there were any obstacles. I didn't try either.
There were some parts where there was fire and you could feel the heat of the flames. I assume it is from the flames and not hot air from the same direction. If my assumption was right, imagine if the fire got out of control. It would suck to be stuck by the restraint and catch fire. Not fun at all. I probably think too much.

When we came out it was raining, so we decided to go again. This time on the second row on the right side. Chiam was on my left. Went for the ride again, knew what was coming so it wasn't very special anymore. The memorable part came at the end of the ride. Chiam told me the kid on his left was crying. I took a look, and he really was, and his dad was consoling him. I chuckled loudly.

SL said I was evil. I don't think so. But somehow the sight of someone crying over a roller coaster ride just amused me greatly. There are far worthier things to cry over.

We were lamenting the failure of the father to teach his son properly as we walked out. Tsk!

It was still raining. Bloody rain. Leon Khee suggested we go have our lunch - since it was raining and the rides were closed. He mentioned the food court wasn't far, so we could make a dash for it. I didn't bother looking at the guide, so I didn't know whether what he said was true. But when he took off into the heavy rain, I knew it was a stupid idea. We were going to be drenched. But like lemmings, we followed. We certainly couldn't forsake him, could we?

And spent the next minute running to the foodcourt. In the heavy rain. Of course, my spare studio guides were out, providing some protection, but alas, the rain was mightier. I should have used more than 1-ply.

When we dashed into food court, the woman had the cheek to tell us the place was full house. What did she expect us to reply? After we'd come in drenched, we'll tell her, "Ok we'll go back out now into the rain to get soaked."

We camped around for a seat, a lot of people came in for the shelter and were sitting down not eating anything. Finally got a seat, then we spent the next 20 minutes queueing up for chicken rice. 20 minutes in which we were assessing the efficency of the staff, or lack thereof.

The tray the chicken rice plate was put on was not even cleared of rice bits. We were joking that they should have a sign "Days with no food poisoning" outside, and the count would probably remain at 1.

The chicken rice sucked. Bad. The chicken was dry and tasteless, the rice the same, and the soup tasted like water. There was achar as well. Which sucked. Did I mention the cucumbers? Which tasted as bitter as defeat? $7.80 for a plate of chicken rice, and I get this crap.

Anyway as the meal was awful we focused our attentions on more entertaining matters. For example, we were challenging each other to the Cylon ride right after lunch. Only SL and I dared to contemplate it and we told them no problem. They didn't quite believe us.

I didn't finish all my rice. SL finished all his rice AND the bowl of chicken soup, which I didn't touch. The rest of them insisted we would puke, or at least feel sick after. They mistook us for themselves.

About 20 minutes after lunch, we went for it. Just the 2 of us. We sat in the front row, in the centre.

I didn't feel queasy or anything. In fact, I quite enjoyed the ride. SL was ok as well.

Next up was the Accelerator. It was basically the spinning teacup ride. SL was saying before the ride he couldn't take the spinning, but we did it anyway. The individual spinning of the "cup" was determined by our turning of a wheel in the middle. We MENGED. At least we tried to. The video on facebook will provide further information. In the end it was only me and Leon Khee turning the wheel. The rest were dying. It was quite funny. I'm quite surprised myself that I didn't feel queasy. I usually don't have a strong stomach.

After the accelerator we rested; most of the party was dying.

Once the rest was over we headed over to the Cylon ride once more. 5 times was better than 4. At the end of the ride we bought a Cylon keychain each. We asked the shop keepers which of the key chains was the Cylon coat of arms. She didn't know. Joke.

We decided to end off with another Rapids Adventure. Leon Khee was saying he didn't believe that he would be so unlucky twice. He was. But this time SL also got hit. Me and Chiam were highfiving each other before the plunge. I escaped mostly unscathed. Leon Khee was cursing and swearing after the plunge cause he got wet, and failed to take notice of a small dinosaur who squirted water at him. I laughed till my stomach hurt.

I think a large part of the joy in the Rapids Adventure is derived from Schadenfreude. That other people got wet and you didn't. Still, it was all good!

On the way out I made a lost and found report for my grey phone. My poor phone...

Closing thoughts: The best rollercoasters make you confront your mortality, they make you realise that in a blink of an eye your existence could be be winked out.

Went to lunch with Andrew today... He had told me last week of the Evolve MMA gym roadshow. He reminded me of it again today, said they were asked for volunteers yesterday to go up on stage to try hitting some guy in the face. The people who went up were given ipod shuffles, regardless of whether they managed to hit the guy in the face.

He was recalling ro me some chinaman who went up, took off his shirt, and proceeded to hit empty air for the next 30 seconds while jumping around like a monkey. He still got the ipod shuffle.

My curiosity and greed was piqued. The reward was not too shabby, and would be worth the walk to raffles place.

So I agreed to go down and take a look with him, and see whether they were still giving away the ipod shuffle.

On the escalator ride up the MRT, we heard the promotor cajoling the crowd. Good.

There was a sizable crowd there, which at a glance I took in to be office workers. Inconsequential. I walked to the side of the crowd, so I wouldn't have to look past people's necks. The promoter was some ang moh, had a fighter build. He was explaining the rules of the game about to be played.

Standing on the same spot, 5 punches against some topless guy in boxing attire. The guy looked thai, well built. He was demonstrating, taking swings at the guy. The guy dodged them easily. I wasn't very impressed, looking at how he was swinging his punches. I was getting stoked - how nice of them to start the giveaway just as I arrived.

I made my opinion known to Andrew, at quite a loud volume apparently. He was asking for volunteers, I saw some people raise their hands, was a bit sad that there were actually takers, but decided to try my luck anyway. Some promoter in the crowd was kind enough to tell the promoter on the stage that he got a guy (referring to me)

I was well pleased when I was picked. Time to walk the talk, and test my prowess. As I made my way into the ring doubts started to surface, but I couldn't chicken out now could I?

He passed me the boxing glove, then placed me slightly more than an arm's length away from him. I despaired. I would have to reach. Automatically I cheated. I changed my stance to southpaw (right hand first).

I think I realised it was quite unfair to the guy taking the blow at the same time as when the promoter asked me to switch back. Oh well.

The promoter asked for my name, which he didn't manage to pronounce properly. I didn't really care though. Time to win the shuffle.

I stare at the thai guy, trying to predict whether I would be able to hit him. The promoter turns around to the crowd, repeating the rules of the game and saying there's no time limit. As he's facing the crowd I decide to take my chance. The thai guy's arms are up, I didn't catch him unaware. He's looking at me, I'm looking back.

Tap. I tapped his forehead and my arm was back before he moved.

The promoter turns around, thinking I hadn't moved. I told him I've hit him already. He says he didn't see it.

I wasn't pleased. The whole bloody crowd saw it. I'm sure the thai guy felt it as well. Looking back, I guess it wasn't really his fault. He really didn't see it as he was facing the crowd. But at that moment I was quite pissed off. Pissed off because I had already done it, and I was not sure myself whether it was a fluke and whether I could repeat it.

Doubts again.

But I tried again, and this time I felt the blow connect. It was defintely a more solid hit than the first, I imagine due to my displeasure, and I'm not sure if I imagined it, but I really think the guy moved into my blow. I definitely didn't use my full force; that'd been mean.

This time everybody saw. I'm not sure if the crowd cheer, but I was pretty damn pleased with myself. The guy couldn't avoid the blow.

Sam was right. It's neigh impossible to be able to avoid a blow, especially from someone trained, much less catch it. Hence most akido moves that start with catching punches are quite pointless. It was verification of what I had learnt, proof that I hadn't been wasting my time.

The promoter commented: "Just like that!"

Damn straight son. Just like that.

I stood there, wondering if I would get my other 3 blows. The blood mist had descended. But alas, it was not to be. The promoter jokingly chased me off stage "Get him off the stage, someone give him his ipod shuffle!"

I was mightily pleased with myself, and the ang moh chick who gave me my ipod shuffle was pretty as well! A pity she was so much taller.

Later over lunch I was regaling Andrew with my flights of fantasy, and he was explaining why the promoter picked me over the rest.

It appears that I had spoken a bit too loudly to him regarding the difficulty, or lack of, of the challenge, and how I thought I was up to it. The flier distributor had heard me, and so had been so nice as to point me out to the promoter on stage.

Ah, so there was the mystery solved.

Though actually I hadn't given it any thought. But it was a good point nonetheless. He said after I hit the guy the 2nd time I gave a smug look. He showed the smug look to me, but when I denied it, he said it didn't show in my face but in my eyes. Ah... I couldn't contest that. I haven't learnt how to control my eyes. I tried to justify it, telling him of my displeasure after being cheated of my first blow. He said he didn't see it - some lady had apparently distracted him by asking him whether I was his friend. He also told me of another guy who went up yesterday - an old man jumped up on stage yesterday when the promoter asked for a volunteer. Since the rule was 30 seconds of unlimited shots at the guy, the old man actually grabbed the guy and proceeded to pound him. My sympathies to the poor man. He could probably tear the old man apart, but he had to endure it.

Tsk, what a letdown. Even worse, the lady was average. What a pity!

Being cocky isn't good. But then again, neither is false modesty. But the question is, if you're unsure of how you measure up against external circumstances, which would be the better choice? Say like you train at something once a week, but never had to test using the skill you trained. So before the test, should you say you can do it, or try to play down others' expectations? Or just keep quiet, in which case you'll be anti-social?

I actually gave this some thought while taking a dump. And I couldn't come to a conclusion.

The promoter claimed the ipod shuffle was a limited edition evolve MMA one. Well, examining the transparent case, I don't see anything special about it. Andrew joked that the thing limited about it was that it was out of production. My riposte was that it had limited memory - 2 gigs.

Anyway the roadshow is till Friday, I recommend everyone free to go give it a shot. (I went at 1)

After work I watched Daybreakers. This is DEFINITELY the comedy of the year. The reviewer at today gave it a 3/5, saying it was a B movie trying to be more, let down by its excessive gory and campy scenes. It was quite the understatement.

The first vampire test subject for the blood substitute started having boils appearing all over his body, thrashing wildly after he was injected with the blood substitute. Then some analgesic was injected, and he appeared normal once more. Then his head exploded. In a very loud and gory fashion.

I was laughing my ass off, but beside me the woman laughed louder. I was thoroughly amused by that. I actually laughed till I teared. What are the odds at someone laughing even more inappropiately than me?

But really, the show takes the cake. If you don't laugh even once at the supposedly gory scenes, you really need to have your head checked.

The show has so many pop-in and sudden loud noises that it's really irritating. And when I say loud I mean loud. Think a bat's high pitch squeal.

Don't expect anything from the show, except for a barrel of laughs at the director's stupidity and getting peeved at the loud noises.

If it isn't fate, I don't know what it is...

Met Xingqun at physio today. Was doing the wobbleboard balance, when I saw a oddly familiar face. I wasn't sure at first, then I saw my physiotherapist was tending to him, so when she came over I asked him who he was.

She was like "Xing..." And I finished the name for her. I could hardly believe it. What aluck!

To think only a few days ago my sister was rambling on about him.

I was mightily pleased and proceeded to catch up with him for a while.

He was on crutches and had a cast on just like mine a few months back. He had torn some ankle ligament while navigating for some armor recce course, thanks to a pothole. Had his surgery 3 weeks ago, he ords next febuary. Service injury. Very nice, in a warped way. His operation was on his outer ankle, mine was on my inner ankle. What are the chances?

Anyway I was pleased to offer him my walker boot, finally found a use for the $130 ripoff.

I didn't think of it at the time, but upon reflection this must truly have been fate... What are the odds? One of my best friends in primary school, having a similar ankle problem, undergoing the knife at the same hospital and seeing the same physiotherapist?

And these thoughts led me to some reminiscence. Didn't have many friends in primary school, not that I do now but it was worse than. But I'll always remember the good times, the days when there was not so much thinking of the future, just plain having fun. Used to stay over at Xingqun's house and play his playstation. I still remember the games we played. I remember the ease with which he pwned me in marvel vs capcom and street fighter, and the calluses on his thumbs attesting to his superiority. I remember the 99 hit combo he pulled off with gambit's special input in succesion 3 times, which he said was actually more than 99 hits.

And I still remember the Rising Zan: Samurai Gunman game, how I utterly failed at it, but still insisted on trying nevertheless, cause the game was so amusing and awesome. I mean come on who uses a gun AND a sword? Not including gunblades and bayonets.

Those were the days... Coming home to watch little lulu on cartoon network, or dexter's lab if I was early. Of course it wasn't all fun and games, had the PSLE to contend with as well as those nasty teachers who didn't appreciate my candor.

But then again, such problems are faced everywhere, so they shouldn't detract from the good times I had then.

I digress, but the mind cannot help but wander to fond memories.

And yet, the cynical being inside me tells me this isn't fate, it's just proof of SAF's shittiness. Objectively speaking, it's paying for Xingqun's injury, so it isn't all that bad.


But no matter how many ways you look at it, the scar will always be there...

ORD lo

2 days after my operation, and it's all good.

Actually it's not, since my leg is in a cast, and I'm having trouble moving around.

Luckily, I have crutches, but it's still not easy. Showering is a real bitch since I can't get the cast wet, so I have to elevate my leg, contorting my body in some weird position. The things I do for hygiene.

Anyway, the operation was pretty smooth sailing. So smooth I don't recall much, which is expected, or else I probably won't be able to blog about it.

I recall being put on a bed and being wheeled into the operating theatre. Where everyone was busy like bees, and I was just lying down there observing them. It was intimidating in a way, for my thoughts drifted to my leg being cut up real soon. However, it was also kind of amusing. Amusing in that all these people were busy preparing for my operation. It felt... Lordly?

I don't know, but I couldn't help but feel amused that so many people were busy slogging while I was just there lying down waiting to be attended by them. It might sound a bit warped, but I couldn't help it. I counted 11 people working. I heard someone mention that Dr Andy Wee operates 24 hours, 7 days a week. I don't know what he was alluding to, but it just sounded funny.

The anaesthetist introducted himself and his partner to me, and explained to me the nerve blocker he was going to use for me. I had thought I didn't need it, but being on the operating table like a slab of meat was sobering reminded me of my mortality and I didn't object. Which on hindsight was a bloody smart idea.

The last thing I remember was being injected in my wrist for the drip, then suddenly feeling pain in my forearm. Which I pointed out to the anaesthetist. And then there's a memory lapse.

I wake up not feeling my lower leg. It's this funny feeling where you try to move it, but it just doesn't respond. It's hard to describe, you have to try it for yourself. I tried to touch it and didn't feel anything. It was a very strange feeling, but I didn't think much of it as the anaesthetist had told me it was to be expected. Dr Andy Wee came over to tell me the operation was a success, that his original diagnosis that the posterior tibial tendon had split and a part of it was rubbing against the medial bone was incorrect. What was happening was that posterior tibial tendon had split, and was rubbing against itself. Fuck that. Anyway, he removed like 10 percent of my tendon as it was beyond repair, and even the main tendon of 80 plus percent had to be cleaned up. Which I assume to be trimming and cutting and dicing and slicing, kind of like keeping a hedge trimmed.

I hadn't gotten to asking him whether the tendon will grow back to 100 percent, partly because I fear the answer which I highly suspect to be no.

Gay.

At around 4pm the pain started to materialise. But I still hadn't regained control of my lower leg, and that was worrying. The nurses kept asking at regular intervals whether I could feel my leg or wriggle my toes, and that worried me because the way they kept asking was as if they expected a positive response and me telling them I couldn't wriggle my toes or feel my leg was not normal. I was beginning to think my nerve was damaged when around 8pm I realised I could wriggle my toes. Just slightly, but it felt like a monumental achievement.

Around 11pm I tried to sleep, to no avail. The bed was most uncomfortable, and the pain was making me sweat. My back was starting to hurt, and I wondered that it was actually possible for my back to hurt from lying down too much. Must be a sucky bed.

I started to regret that I hadn't splurged the cash for an aircon ward, but it was too late for regrets. So I tried to make the tomorrow come faster by sleeping.

It failed miserably. I remember being awake at 1a.m, thinking how shitty life was. I was sweating and there was a mosquito bugging the hell out of me. Pain, quite a bit of pain, and itchiness were my constant companion. I was seriously comtemplating whether to call the nurse for an injected painkiller and a mosquito net.

But I didn't for some reason, choosing instead to silently curse my stupidity and the hospital for not putting up mosquito nets at the windows. There was a period of time when I thought that the mosquito was imaginary, and that there was really nothing biting me and the itchiness was a figment of my imagination. But then I saw an insect, and realised that the itchiness was indeed due to a real mosquito.

Oh yes I forgot to talk of my neigbour. I had a window ward, lucky me except that it's so far from the window I couln't look out of it to see anything interesting, and the bed beside mine was empty for most part of the day. Then during the late afternoon/evening and old man came to join me.

I eavesdropped, not much else to do(though that's a poor excuse) on his conversations with his doctor and found out that his fate was much more cruel than mine. Apparently he had broke his thigh bone, got knocked down when crossing the highway en route to work. The doctor was most puzzled by why he would be crossing the highway on his way to work, and I couldn't overhear his explanation for it. Anyway, the doctor asked him when was the last time he had something to eat/drink. He said 3pm, and the doctor asked when he last drank. He said he only drinks beer or something to that effect. Lol.

I heard the doctor explaining to his daughter(I presume) of how they hadn't cleared his neck for any damage and as such they would have to put him on some spinal protection program, meaning he couldn't get up and had to lie down or something like that. Or else he might just become paralysed.

The doctor was explaining the risks of the operation to his daughter. He said it was not a minor op, as such, there would be risks involved.

1. Heavy bleeding

2. Suffocation
If memory serves, he said that due to his thigh bone breaking, his fats would go to the lungs and he could have problems breathing

3. Infection

So he told them there might be a chance he would go to ICU after the operation. Also, he stated that the operation involved joining a metal rod to his thigh bones with and screwing it into place. He said that it was not a sure fire way and he might have to come back for another operation if it didn't heal properly.

When I heard the doctor, I was thinking woah shit that sucks. But I was in a lot of pain myself, so I wasn't really in a empathising mood.

Anyway I don't know if the old man kept me up with his frequent calls to the nurse or I just couldn't sleep and happened to hear his calls to the nurse.

He kept complaining that he needed to piss. The problem was that they had already attached the pipe to his bladder, meaning that his bladder was dry and he didn't need to piss. But he just kept insisting he needed to piss, and the nurse in turn tried to assure him that he didn't need to piss and the feeling he needed to piss was normal but it was just that, not a real need to piss.

He also complained about other stuff, and I heard the nurse telling him no you can't get up, your neck is not cleared you might become paralysed if you get up.

The light above his ward was on most of the time, and I suspected that contributed to my insomnia.

Which brings me to my next point. The lights and the bed. The elevation on my bed could only be adjusted by a handcrank in front of the bed, meaning I couldn't do it myself. What the hell? If I wanted to get up into a sitting position I had to call for the nurse to help me crank the bloody bed to do so. And if I wanted to lie down I had to call for the nurse as well. It probably explained why my back was feeling sore at the end of the day, or mayhaps that was just the shitty mattress.

What brilliant design. NOT

And the light switch. I had this switch thingy that called for the nurse and on the other switch was a light icon. Which didn't work. It was for the light above my bed, and somehow it just didn't work. I was lazy to enquire after it, but it still sucked. There was another overhead light between me and the bed opposite me. The switch for that was at the other end of the room. The light happened to be on a lot when I wanted to sleep.

I guess that was why I paid 10 dollars a night for the ward. Cause it sucked.

20 percent of the $50 dollars a day it was supposed to be. I came to understand why people don't like staying in hospitals.

So I managed to survive the night, and the next morning Dr Andy Wee comes in at 8.30 or was it 9.30 in a FCUK shirt, asking me how my leg was.

He asked, "So how's the ankle? Not much pain right?"

Ha ha ha.

What a kidder.

I corrected him, "Actually, quite a bit of pain."

To which he assured me that the pain would not last, probably no more pain on Monday. At that time I didn't think it possible, But mayhaps he had the right of it.

Anxious to get out of the hospital, I asked him what time I could be discharged at. He said that after seeing the physiotherapist to teach me to use my crutches, probably out by 1pm. I said ok and he went on his way.

Some doctor came along to check on me, and I asked what time the physiotherapist was coming. At around 10am, but she would be attending to all the patients, so it might take some time. I couldn't take it for much longer, cause my ankle was hurting and I was sweating buckets and feeling grimy from all the sweat from the previous day.

So anyway the physiotherapist came at around 10 plus, and proceeded to teach me how to use my crutches. Nothing remarkable, just her doing her job. She came at like 10.30? I asked her if I could discharge after seeing her and she said yea probably. So I asked my dad to come fetch me at 11.

So around 10.45 I was done and I was most pleased that I would be getting out of this hell hole in around 15 minutes.

Wrong-o.

I paged for the nurse, and the indian told me that I could only discharge at 1pm. She said that even though I was discharging in the morning, I had to undergo the discharging procedure, like doing the paperwork and getting the medicine from the pharmacy, so I could only leave at 1pm.

I was most displeased, and I struggled to contain my displeasure. Actually I didn't. I just basically WTF? I hadn't thought that my discharge would take so long to process. I wasn't getting out of a life sentence for goodness sake. I expressed my bewilderment at her, but seeing as I was incapacitated and couldn't put up much of a fight, I wasn't too assertive. I basically asked her to explain to me why it would take so long, then gave her looks that told her I didn't quite buy the crap she was spewing. I didn't threaten to take it to the higher management because I didn't think of it at that time. Come to think of it, why didn't I? Stupid

So anyway she left telling me that I could only go at 12.30 to 1. I was most distraught for any second spent lingering in that ward was dampening my spirits.

So anyway 10 minutes later at around 11 I called for a nurse again and told the indian in a most curt manner that I wanted her to start the discharge procedures now. I wanted to be out at 12.30pm, I didn't want her to tell me at 12.30 that she had just started the discharge process and I was expected to wait. I told her to start getting the medicine and whatever paperwork needed now.

Sure, I could have a free lunch at the hospital, but I would rather eat plain rice at home than have a feast at the hospital. Besides, the meals were just decent, nothing makan sutra worthy.

At 11.30 the pharmacist came along to pass me my medicine and instructions for them. Then the nurse came at the same time to pass me the bill and MC. The pharmacist talked to me first then the nurse came and I asked if I could discharge and she said yea that was all.

She left a feedback form for me to fill as well. I was thinking of how to fill it up but in my rush to get out of the hospital I couldn't be bothered to do it.

Time of discharge?

Around 11.30 to 11.45. At 11.30 I was told I could go but I still had to change.

Moral of the story?

The indian nurse was a lying bitch.

Not that I didn't expect such, but still.

I mean where is the sense in keeping me for lunch? Surely my presence was not so welcome that they felt they had to detain me? What stupid protocol is that, making patients linger longer than they have to? Not as if all the nurses were hot and servicing me personally. The faster I go the more beds they have available for the next poor fellow that comes along. It is just good sense to discharge me as soon as possible, but I guess somewhere along the way they lost it.

Most silly if you ask me.

Another bloody boring day in camp.

SSDD.

However, there was a moment of intense hilarity.

I was feeling bored during lunch, as the mat had gone for his prayers and Clo had abandoned me for his gal.

So naturally I had to find something entertaining to do.

Having influenced by Clo, I started looking around looking for things to hit. There was a filled water bottle lying around, and I took swings at it trying to see how far I could make it fly each time. It was pretty fun, for a while.

Then I looked around some more and noticed the stacks of unopened A4 paper used for printing. Something in my mind clicked - I thought of using them as body armor. I would hold it against my body and let Clo punch me, to see how strong his punch was (since he was always practising on me), and then we would swap.

So when he came back I suggested it, and as expected, he agreed eagerly. Though instead of punching, he wanted to try elbowing. My initial plan was to hold the stack of papers against the chest, but I didn't want his elbow catching me in the chest, so we decided we would put it against our delts instead.

I hadn't quite expected that, and was doubtful if I could survive such a hit, but I let him test a low powered elbow and when it didn't really hurt I put my trust into the stack of A4 papers.

So he threw a strong elbow, and it was pretty painful. But manageable. Now Clo is a masochist, he likes dealing out punishment. So when he saw that I wasn't on the ground begging for my life, he was not satisfied. He asked me whether it hurt and I told him it did, but he insisted it was not painful, and proceeded to ask me to let try another one, which he claimed would be a "light" one.

I reluctantly agreed, mostly because I believed it would be a light elbow.

And when it came, BAM!

I staggerd back 2 to 3 metres and fell to the ground. I was totally caught unawares, and it was painful, but somehow, I managed to laugh.

And Clo, seeing my reaction and state, couldn't stop laughing as well. There I was, on the ground after reeling from his blow, chuckling at the insanity of it all... We couldn't stop laughing for a long time.

It was really quite funny, but I guess this a spur-of-the-moment kind of humour, a spotaneous sort of laughter that can't really be recollected in words to have the same zany effect.

Anyway earlier on in the day S3 was asking us why we didn't go down for the healthy lifestyle run.

He asked for my excuse, I produced it. Excuse prolonged standing till Feb. So anyway me and Clo spent quite a while trying to convince him that our excuses allowed us to skip healthy lifestyle.

Now S3 is a mule. Stubborn and stupid like you wouldn't believe at times.

When he saw my excuse he asked me to define prolonged. I tried to smoke my way, but he would have none of it. Clo and me tried to convince him that it was not possible for the MO to specifically write down the exact details of each excuse, like how many minutes meant prolonged - as it would certainly be too time consuming and impractical. He started to blabber about that was the difference between JC and poly students. What with poly students paying attention to the details because they were steeped in the technical aspect or some nonsense along those lines. He asked Clo whether he was from JC and Clo told him no he studied overseas in highschool and he said same. Then he asked the mat, and he told him ITE and i stifled a laugh when he said good ITE also technical one.

Truly, what the hell?

Anyway S3 asked us to call the MO to find out. Clo did and the MO wasn't around. We told him the MO hadn't reached camp. It was usual for him to reach around 9. So he asked us why we didn't complain about the MO. Obviously because he was a captain and were not, and we told him so. But as with his usual BS, he said we should have brought it up to someone of higher authority.

So anyway finally the argument really got to a point it felt like I was speaking to a retard. Somehow me and Clo got him to a point where he couldn't come up with any logical answer. He went on about how getting excused is not really getting excused, and Clo asked him does that mean that if my medical certificate writes excuse jogging I still can jog?

And S3 said yes because it doesn't write how long before you can't jog anymore. It was totally crap, but I wasn't pissed or anything because I knew that at the end of the day S3 did not really mean any malice and he wasn't getting worked up.

Sure, one has to takes load of shit from him, but viewed in the right way, it's hell of a funny ride and entertaining when you just try to picture the idea of a major saying such illogical nonsense - just plain ludicrous!

At the end of the talk cock session he finally relented under our relentless barrage and conceded that if we were to skip the healthy lifestyle we were to start work at 8. We mentioned to him we already do, though it's unlikely to be true, unless you consider sleeping in the chair work. I bet he doesn't.

Then the stupid rat came in and asked us why we didn't run. We told it that S3 had asked us and conceded that if we started work by 8 we could miss it. It was skeptical at first, but when we told him to go ask S3 himself he did not pursue the matter further.

So there, whoreson!

After work I went to my sis' house and took a nap. I had a strange dream.

I was riding a bicycle, feeling damned tired. so tired I was wondering how I could stay balanced and continue riding. I was riding beside some train track, towards town, and I knew that it was the right way despite it not seeming like it led to my destination, and my bicycle had the seat out of place (like my bike in reality now after the bailing on the biking trail). It felt as if I was drunk - when I took turns I bumped into the walls, but somehow still managed to keep riding. The brakes seemed to be quite uneffective.

When I woke up I remembered much of the dream, which is pretty rare.

That's all in this post.

I know it's random. But such is life...

Unbecoming... What else would you call a 2WO threatening to punch the fellows under him?


That's exactly what happened today.




I really considered calling the SAF 24 hour hotline. I mean, threat of violence is obviously illegal, even to subordinates. I may have to respect your rank, no matter how ludicrous you are, but even I don't have to listen to you blustering about causing me bodily harm.


Besides, what could the fat snake possibly do? Punch me? I'd break its arm into so many pieces it'd forget it had any arm at all. Admittedly, if it sat on me, I'll be a dead man. But that would be highly unlikely, considering the blob of fat it is.


So anyway this is how it all started.



Euphrates, me and the other mess boy were having a conversation, with Euphrates spouting gibberish at malay guy and irritating him. Some of his replies were totally lacking intelligence, I couldn't help but be amused, cruel as it was. The malay was getting irked and it showed. So anyway we were just getting into the flow of the conversation, when darkness descended.


He asked both of us to go out of the mess. I got up promptly, while the malay guy continued sitting down, not hearing him. As I was walking out, the fat snake reiterated himself - "both of you, out" There was a slight ominous tone to it.


So once we were outside, he started going into one of his rabies fit. He just had one earlier this morning, taking issue about me "bullying" the malay guy, but that story can wait.


He launched into "Both of you want me to punch you, is it?" As he said this, he made an elbowing gesture. It was comical and pitiful - even as he was trying to impose his will on us, he was still unable. This creature here obviously couldn't distinguish between a punch and a elbow strike. I was tempted to educate him on the finer points of martial arts.



As always, I was caught off guard. Thing about the fat snake is, no matter how many times I've been owned, the next time is always a new experience. Somehow his profound stupidity has a way of reaching new lows everytime, such that one cannot put up any mental defenses against it.


The things the fat snake finds fault over usually doesn't deserve a space in your mind, and I usually don't even know what he's talking about till he's halfway through his fit. Then realisation will sink in, and I'll start thinking what an anal prick he is, finding fault with the smallest and dumbest things ever.


I was like "Huh?", totally uncomprehending what had gotten his goat this time. Then he flipped up the table cloth on the GS table outside, and voila, a ration carrier appears! So, big deal, I thought. It's a bloody bag, not trash or anything. But not for the fat snake. Oh no, no no no. He acts as if we've just committed murder.



"What's this doing here?" Menacing and with eyes bulging, he demands. He claims that someone called and complained that we were leaving things around the place. Meaning the bag. The mess boys weren't doing their job. Story of my life.



There was a table cloth covering the GS table. From the front, the bag couldn't be seen. From the side, yes. But who, WHO in the right state of mind would call him to complain over such a trivial issue? Maybe if it was a bucket of trash or something. But a harmless bag? What, a bomb threat? An IED? Set to detonate when the commanders gathered around their their free lunch? It is puzzling indeed. A question that requires much thought. I was really tempted to ask who was the rat, but thought better of it seeing his cretinous face twisted in fury.



I didn't know of the existence of the bag there till he pointed it out. I was taken aback. So what is this about now? Another one of his tempurs? I didn't know how the bag got there, and neither did I give a crap. The fat malay guy starts going into an explanation of how someone had told him to put it there, that it had contained the lunch for the commanders, brought by someone else, and that the HR branch was going to collect it.

The fat snake starts going into some illogical rebuttal. Can't remember what dumb things he uttered, cause it was simply too many. He started dismissing whatever the malay guy says, saying that the mess area is under our charge and hence whatever things that were here was under our charge. At least I think that was what he said.


Most of the time he starts lambasting me I shut out most of the bullshit he's spouting, keeping only a vague part of my mind active to intone "Yes sir No sir" at what I think are appropriate moments. Though most of the time it falls flat and he starts questioning yes to what or no to what and I'll be struck dumb not knowing how even to begin saying.



He started asking rhetorical question that, looking back, have little or no link to the main issue. He asked whether the table, chair, fans belonged to us. Quite obviously not, and we replied as much. Though I didn't really get the point he was trying to make.



Nevermind that. The most important thing was his ending words. Another insinuation of a threat. He said that this was the last time he would talk nicely with us - the next time he would make us see stars.


Such audacity... But I decided not to make any trouble, for the good news finally arrived today. I went to the MO after lunch with Euphrates, asking about my PES status. The medic had told me the medical board review was on the 30th (yesterday), and by golly I couldn't wait for them to inform me of the results.


It was make-or-break. If I didn't downpes, I would be stuck here in the mess until I recoursed. Which was a long time away. It was a most dreadful thought, to say the least. I told Euphrates as much.


It would be ironic if I went to the medical centre and found out my downpes didn't go through, seeing as how I would be shattering that little hope.


I went to the medic at the counter and asked him to check my PES for me. He happily obliged.


The verdict: Permanent PES C2L2.


I was elated. Overwhelmed with relief. A feeling almost like rapture. I whooped in joy a few times.


This was vindication. Finally, all my efforts had paid off. This was major headway, considering all the setbacks I had encountered previously. I was finally getting somewhere.


With a PES C2L2, I would not be fit for a recourse. I would be posted out. Out of the mess. Out from the vise of the blacks, and all the tyrannous cretins in this place. Away from their fangs, their venom. No more being treated like a dog.


Or so I hoped. I asked the medic to print out the status slip, thanking him profusely, then made my way back to the mess.


I mused to Euphrates on the way back that it would be so ironic, me being so relieved and joyful, if I were to get posted somewhere worse. I would think back on that moment of exaltation and wonder what I was so happy about, not knowing whether the future heralded a better life or something worse.


The cynic in me was at work there, but I pushed those dark thoughts away, and revelled in the moment.


Finally, after all these weeks, here was something - a ticket out of the mess. All those times I had looked at the S1, Miss Tan, wishing and hoping I would be downpesed faster so I could give her the letter of downpes for her to send to CPC to be posted out. The moment was here finally.


I considered my next step. Would it be to pass the status slip to MPTS, or to Miss Tan straight. On one hand, if I passed it to MPTS, it would take some time to pass to the HR branch, where Miss Tan worked.


On the other, if I went to the old lady straight, the people at MPTS might be unhappy if I was suddenly posted out. I asked Euphrates for his opinion, and he was in favour of the former. As was I. Thus decided, I made my way to Miss Tan's office. I was nervous, for the thought of going into her office to find her to help me send a letter on the CPC seemed a little out of the line, jumping the gun. What if she refused? The doubts clawed my mind, but were unfounded.


Luckily, Euphrates was kind enough to accompany me there, and he even broke the ice for me, asking her about some admin procedures.


So I showed her the status slip with my PES status on it, exclaiming that I finally got it. She was very nice and helpful, and tried to find the previous email she sent to CPC regarding my OOC. She couldn't find it, but she said it didn't matter and it would be fine to send a new one.


I beseeched her to write a good email, asking her to list all my excuses in the hopes of getting a clerical vocation, for C2L2 was pretty weak and the chances of getting a crappy vocation was high. She asked whether C2L2 was combat fit, and neither Euphrates nor I knew.


She suggested I type the email myself, since I probably could pen a better letter as I knew my own condition the best. I was caught by pleasant surprise, and I readily agreed, though I didn't know what the email should contain. According to Euphrates, PES C status usually came with varying permanent excuses depending on the medical condition. After deliberating for a while, I realised that I hadn't found out what was it I was permanently excused from, plus I didn't have all the temporary excuse slips with me, and it would be better to gather them all then fax it along with the email to CPC. It be increase the odds of getting a clerical vocation, or so I hoped. That meant delaying the sending of the email till tomorrow, as I had to go to the medical centre to find out what it was I was excused from. I was so glad about the light at the end of the tunnel that I didn't mind.



1.8.2008

It was a smart move, delaying the sending of the email. I went with Euphrates in the afternoon, he wanted to see MO Poh regarding his downpes for his wrist's loose ligament, which surfaced after an x-ray of his wrist for a better picture of the cyst on his wrist.



I was expecting my permanent excuse to be either RMJ or lower limb, but I was in for most pleasant surprise. Over the previous day I had thought and fretted about my new PES. Some people had told me with a C2L2 I would be posted to signals. The last thing I wanted was another course.

I have had enough of being forced to do things which I absolutely don't believe in, and staying in. The signals course, held in Stagmont, though near to my house, was nowhere near its equal.

So imagine my happiness when I found out I was excused outfield! It was as if all my prayers had finally been answered. In one stroke, God had answered all my pleas.

No more hypocritical and useless courses.

I was so glad that I didn't press the medic to print out the slip for me when he told me he was not supposed to.

Now the old lady was a real nice person. She did something totally unexpected.

As I sat in the mess in the afternoon rejoicing over the news, she called. Now what could she possibly be calling for?

She had taken the medical certificate proclaiming my immunity to outfield, and asked me to type the email to CPC while she faxed the medical certificate over.

Such thoughtfulness! Such efficiency and initiative! Never have I seen the like in the SAF, and doubt I ever will again.

I was brimming with joy as I sent the email to CPC. She said CPC usually settled it in a week.

Best thing was, she called CPC. Private Chris picked up. She asked what I could possibly do with my medical status. He replied oh that's bad probably will become a clerk. Never had I heard sweeter words in my life.

Ah, clerkdom. A noble calling, as the scribe said in the Pale Horseman. Sure, annals of history do not record the deeds of clerks, but neither would they any other army personnel. At the end of the day, it was the WOFT club. Better to be done with it as painlessly as possible.

Meaning in a week I would be rid of the black devil. I thanked her profusely. She was really a Godsend. Would that all the regulars were replaced with the likes of her...