Counting down.

Home sweet home on August 9. Three more weeks and my time in the US is done.

This is life.

Sitting in an Italian cafe at Santa Monica Beach with Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez playing.

Why am I not in Europe right this minute?

Snobbish Bostonians.

I am pissed off. It’s true that everything has a price. Nothing comes free.

Yeh Yang and I are in Boston now. We walked through the theater district and someone gave us free tickets to watch a musical. It’s really true that nothing comes free. Even if there is no monetary cost, there’s always an opportunity cost of some sort.

The musical was terrible. For a while before it started, we couldn’t believe our luck at being at the right place at the right time. Somehow, we knew it can’t be that easy.

Other than having to endure many cringe-worthy moments in the musical, we also had to deal with the snobbish Bostonians. I don’t think Yeh Yang knew about this.

But after we left the theater, I overheard two ladies behind us talking about our attire. Yeh Yang had warned me earlier that some clubs and bars in Boston require men to be dressed in trousers and leather shoes, no sneakers. Yeh Yang and I were decently dressed. Jeans and sneakers. And my suspicions were aroused as I waited for Yeh Yang outside the washroom because people walking past me glanced down at my shoes, which really amused me. It was only when I overheard what those two ladies said that I realized why Yeh Yang and I stood out from the crowd.

I didn’t think we were too sloppily dressed. But the ladies mentioned “jeans”, “shoes” and “cap”, which is how we were dressed. They also went as far as to say that anyone on the streets could have walked into the theater. Theater isn’t just for rich and famous people. Blah. I am so so disgusted.

I am pissed off that people judge us based on our appearance because this is Boston after all. I don’t see a reason to dress up here. And I’m glad that I didn’t, because that would have made me feel silly, seeing how lousy the musical was. And those two ladies really should mind their own business.

Weird relationships.

Some Smirnoff Ice

One Tequila shot

One Bourbon Coke

One Gin Tonic

Two Vodka Redbull

I thought Americans and me don’t get along?

But that’s all it takes, and we’re the best of pals.

The hype over the song

Whitney Houston’s medley of songs that includes “And I Am Telling You” by Jennifer Holiday from Dreamgirls

Think.

I had some trouble sleeping last night. Wasn’t the first time that it happened here in Ithaca, but it definitely got me thinking. Well, thinking is something that I do a lot of and it takes up way too much of my time. I spend too much time on thinking and deliberating (sometimes it turns into daydreaming) than actually acting on what I’m thinking about.

That makes me a think-a-lot-but-no-action kind of guy.

So anyway, I resorted to counting sheep and it worked! Well, at least I think it did because I remember counting to about 99 and it kind of stopped there. Maybe I got lazy and didn’t make it past a hundred, and then started thinking about other stuff or maybe I really fell asleep there at 99. It gets a little fuzzy from there.

But today I woke up feeling like I worry too much. I don’t deny that, because I know I do worry a lot. And it’s not usually a problem. Though now I think it has become a problem, thinking about it on hindsight.

I’m putting things into perspective here. The past seven weeks haven’t been perfect, though I’m getting the impression that people think it has been from my blog, emails and chats. Maybe I give that impression to you guys unknowingly – wanting everyone to think that I’m having a great time here. And I think that that’s because that’s me. I give the impression that I’m a very tolerant guy, mild and able to take it all in my stride. That’s how I have lived my life for as long as I can remember, I think. Maybe that’s also how I am, that I don’t open up much of what is going on inside. A lot of what goes on inside is not portrayed on the outside and if I don’t share it, nobody would know.

So, now I think about all the people who know me and how long they have known me and how well they know me.

To be honest, there is a lot going on inside. And I’m afraid it may just explode into something manic and uncontrollable one day.

As an after thought, and this is not intentional, I used “think” eleven times in total.

It’s time to choose the specialization for the next two years in SCI.

I’ve already submitted my choice as Journalism, followed by Electronic & Broadcast Media. It’s funny how right now, I don’t think I want to work in Singapore anymore. I think that’s what being on exchange does to you. You see the world, and you know you just want to be out there for a long long time to come.

Yes, there are things that I have come to appreciate about Singapore and I regret that I have taken these things for granted in the past. But personally, if I were to continue in the field of communications, it is a very limited job scope available out there in the market. With a journalism degree, the largest employer would be either Mediacorp or Singapore Press Holdings, both of which are government-linked. I see where it all leads to.

Interest or practicality. I don’t know which to choose.

The problem with Singapore’s university education is that it does not cater to a wide range of people. Yes, you can do that with the primary, secondary and junior college education but not with university. If not, there is no diversity and every graduate that is churned out is merely the exact same model of the other. We are not factory products on a conveyor belt. At least I don’t want to be.

worth

Who are we to say what’s it worth?

At the end of the day, these are the moments that define us.

Two years ago, I was contemplating signing on with the army.

One year ago, I was almost one year into university and wasn’t exactly enjoying it.

Today, I just came back from a college party and I’m having the time of my life.

What can I say?

Life doesn’t get any better.

The Charge of the Light Brigade
Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
“Forward, the Light Brigade!
“Charge for the guns!” he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
Their’s not to make reply,
Their’s not to reason why,
Their’s but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder’d:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre stroke
Shatter’d and sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.

                                                                          

Sharon Chua-Boesch
Wife, daughter, sister, family, loved one.

You are a true General. God rest your soul as you spend many happy days in the comfort of His arms.

Till we meet again, I love you.