The highest ecstasy is the attention at its fullest

I’m still reeling – more like swellheaded, actually – from the compliment I got from one lurker on this site. He thinks my place is cool because of two brilliant things in pop culture these times: Harry Potter and Rob Thomas. Okay, I’m a little bit obsessed with all things that concern that boy wizard and I think Matchbox 20 is pretty cool.

Enough of that; now onto weird things I chanced upon today. I found it odd this morning, as I took a sit in the train on my way to work, to find not one, not two but three police officers decked with their bats, guns, radios, PDAs, and handphones going up and down the aisle looking like they’re checking up on suspicious faces. All right, it might not look odd or weird given the terrorist attacks in other countries, but this is Singapore! Oh, do I sound like a local now? Maybe because there are news spreading around that this little first-world country is now next in line of countries to be bombed, that is why they are so ever vigilant. These young men looked like they couldn’t hit a fly much more accost a suspicious looking individual; they haven’t got the look of scruffy guys who would walk away unscathed from a scuffle; that’s where their high-tech guns and PDAs probably come in.

In a place where a lot of people have earphones stuck on their ears connected to their iPods or Creative Muovos, it was weird to see a young girl carrying a CD Radio Cassette Recorder or Boombox and that she had earphones connected to it. It was like seeing the initial release of the cellular phone – with bags a big as a notebook.

Dreary life of a programmer

Mundane life can be irksome sometimes. Today was like any ordinary day for a poor analyst programmer like me: log-on to the network; do some programming; test whatever you have done; check emails over the internet; another round of testing; and finish up with documentations. The one glitch I had had been on the testing part. My changes should communicate with another application and boy! am I in for a good testing of patience. Our application can’t seem to communicate and get any response from the other application, not only that I just felt that my connection to the server appeared to be sluggish.

Well, I did what I would normally do: close all applications running on my PC and re-boot. Wow! I never thought I was in for a big surprise. After the re-boot, not only was I unable to connect to the email server, but I was also unable to connect to the AS400 server. Gee! When things are really conking up on you, they really do break down together. I think that was part of Murphy’s Law.

So here I am with nothing to do except use word or excel; there’s nothing much I can do either, for I can’t do documentation because I need to get to the network to finish that up. So creating an entry to my blog looked like the most plausible thing to do. But wait! I can’t connect to the network, which means that I don’t have Internet connection. Oh, darn! This had to wait until I get home then.

Rose-colored Glasses

I have loved you for years – years when my young heart knew nothing of what it was like to love. I worshipped the ground you walked on; waited on passages you daily trod upon. I knew all about you and anything that you would be interested in.

Not that you don’t know me, for I am your best friend’s sister – yes, the younger one. You know how much I adore you – hell! everybody knows. Yet here I am, unabashed, still longing and pining for you. Three years after you saw me ran after the train you boarded, you still see me as that little girl. I am of age – of age to be asked to the dance, yet you chose to be slammed and rejected by another beautiful girl. I was there, waiting, hoping for you to look my way and take me up as some consolation; however, you didn’t. My over-protective brother even suggested that you take me, but still you didn’t. Was it because I am like a child – always at a lost for words – whenever you are near?

A year has passed since then, and I have changed. I am no longer the bumbling, tongue-tied little girl. I changed, which I hoped for the better, simply to let you go; to be who I really am, and maybe then and only then could you finally see me. I’ve dated other guys, talked whenever you were around – even hollered at you for being a prat – and tried to be the best in whatever field I joined in; but still there you were drooling over some other pretty girl and I was left still hoping.

Another year and my time had come; it has to be, for I could feel it in the air, I could see it in your glances and invites. You finally had taken notice of me, but why must it be at the most inappropriate time – at a time when I am spoken for? Heavens be damned! Why must this happen to me?

I saw you clenched your jaw when you chanced upon us kissing at a deserted hallway, and you didn’t know how I felt for your pain. The fates have been playing with us, but then again they’re still on our side, for a few months later I broke up with him. No, you didn’t rush to my side to sweep me off my feet right away; you are a man of honour anyway. You took your time; you gave me space and the time needed to heal – short as it may be, yet you gave me time.

I can still recall every minute details of what happened that momentous day – that day when you finally kissed me amidst the cheers of people we love. A single moment locked in memory that lasted for like a thousand sunny days, like springtime in November, or snowflakes in summer. Each minute, hour, day or week spent with you had been the joyous moments in my life. And then it had to end.

The saddest day for us all had been the most heart-wrenching day for me. You have to go on a journey – a passage, which you think I can’t face and I agreed. Why must you say that the weeks we had together felt like a life that wasn’t yours? I was saddened to hear that, but then maybe you were right. You were happy for once, yet removed from it all. I thought I am the one who could bring forth a sudden change in your life. Maybe you didn’t need any change. You said your goodbye, forlorn, and resolved at facing the danger up ahead.

So here I am bidding you my farewell. I will wait but I can’t promise you forever.

Polygamy: An endeavor to get more out of life that there is in it

I was reading the newspaper yesterday and was appalled that Singaporeans were even suggesting that polygamy should be allowed to curb the rise of divorce rate in this country. Muslims can multi-marry (ain’t that grand?), provided that their wives would agree to it and that the guy is rich enough to raise a bigger family. What surprised me the most was that two women sent in letters agreeing to such a proposal.

One pointed out that extra-marital affairs will surely stop – and men visiting brothels as well – once it is legitimized. It would likewise result in more births and resolve the woes of the singletons. More births, all right! Do they even stop and think why guys take the road of having extra-marital affairs or visit the brothels? There is such as thing called non-committal relationships. Men who would rather have a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am moment than take home another woman to provide for until the end of their days.

The singles’ woes, which I knew nothing about, are way beyond my comprehension. Aren’t there enough singles to pick on the future guy to bring home to momma? If these singletons think that only the married ones are worthy of marriage, then I’m probably in a whacked out world. They believe that successful, wealthy men deserve to have more than one wife. Ugh! Wouldn’t it be lovely, if all the wives to out together to do some shopping?

Not that we are living in a chauvinistic world, it was even suggested that this should be extended to women, as well. If it is to solve the problem of men whose needs are not met by just one wife; it should also solve the problem of women whose needs are not met by just one husband. Hah!

People here in Singapore are already given so much leeway with divorce. They can declare their independence once they feel like they want out of the relationship. Divorce, for a woman, is also one way out of an abusive marriage. Just telling the wife that there are other girls worthy of her husband’s affection is abusive enough, much more if the husband brings home another girl.

In every marriage more than a week old, there are grounds for divorce. The trick is to find, and continue to find, grounds for marriage. – Robert Anderson

Anybody who wants the presidency so much that he'll spend two years organizing and campaigning for it is not to be trusted with the office

So, do you want to know what’s life like in Singapore? Let me see if I could keep you abreast of what’s going in this little first-world country. Their president, S. R. Nathan, had just sworn in for a second term of office a couple of days ago.

He was re-elected for another six years and I haven’t seen any elections nor any campaign. Strange, isn’t it? Well, because on the Nomination Day (yes they have that) last August 17, there isn’t any qualified candidate but him. I wonder what kind of qualifications do they look for in a candidate?

Can’t Philippines do the same thing? Weed out the bad eggs before they start campaigning and slugging rotten issues against each other. If we have stringent requirements, will there ever be a candidate who’s fit to lead our country?

Anyway, in my five years of staying in this country, I haven’t heard the Singapore’s president speak of anything more than a couple of sentences. For me, he is just some figure head with a ready smile and waving to the people during the National Day Parade, receiving the huge cheque during the President’s Charity Show, and someone who stays at the Istana (more like their Malacañang here).