Defining Happiness

Happiness. My quick checklist.

1. Happiness is when people you care about are in good health.
2. Happiness is when you have someone you can share everything with.
3. Happiness is when you can wake up to that same someone’s smile every morning.
4. Happiness is when you see the goodness in people.
5. Happiness is when those people see the goodness in you.
6. Happiness is having faith and belief in the things you stand for.
7. Happiness is understanding other people have different faiths and beliefs that they stand for.
8. Happiness is not judging anyone.
9. Happiness is not taking to heart how others judge you.
10. Happiness is working hard for your dreams.
11. Happiness is laughing to a funny movie when dreams don’t work out.
12. Happiness is giving without expecting.
13. Happiness is loving without defenses.
14. Happiness is full trust in someone.
15. Happiness is someone trusting you fully.

This post is simple, understated and easy to practice. Like how happiness should be.

The crazy economy, the crazy environment and why should I care?

Oil prices dipped below $62 bbl (finally) but the Arabs think the remedy to recession is cutting their output. Logical. And the sissies in the financial markets are wetting their pants and getting their clammy fingers on whatever “investments” they have left, leaving a large vacuum with a “schluuup” sucking sound not unlike the wind of poetic justice swooshing between their ears.

Some might argue there’s no point throwing good money after the bad. Methinks it’s more of throwing dumberness after dumbness. And out of all this the USD grows stronger than ever when its economy is on the verge of a meltdown. The logic behind finance is mind-boggling. Sure, oil’s tied to USD, hedge funds are tied to USD, food is tied to the USD blah blah blah. Come to think of it, even my neighbour’s dog’s leash is tied to USD, which explains why the entire world is being sucked into the whirlpool of US shitty debt down the proverbial hellhole.

And how does this affect me? It’s always the older-than-thou selfish mentality, and I’m the grubby unfed child who has to clean up after their alcoholic dad’s puke. So here I am, 6 months shy of graduation, which beautifully coincides with the anticipated (i’m not even sure if anticipated is a good word) trough of the worst recession in recent history, and soon to appreciate that reality is a big wet kiss from a whazzitsname-fish that looks like this . And eBaying’s no longer cheap with increase freight and poorer SGD-USD conversion. And I think I’m falling for a person who’s probably over me. F***.

Timing, timing, timing. My greatest enemy.

Breeding a Fire

Breeding a Fire

How to breed a fire, not easy,
deceptive as this may sound.
It’s infamously finicky,
so make sure you jot it down.

A lean diet of oxygen -
three parts exact, neither more nor less.
That’s not adequate, not to burn;
Dash of tinder, sparks complete the mess.

Even so the recipe be known,
only the foolish conceit, people.
A trickle of rain and effort’s blown.
Trust me, it’s never at all simple.

- sq, 8 April 2008, 2.37a.m.

 

 

Long Time No See

I really should stop doing this. Leaving this blog decrepit and running off for months on end, to come back again like a contrite lover. I’m irresponsible, emboldened by the fact this blog will always be here, a patient scribe eager for the next insipid thought I’d rather put in words.

 I’m back this time not because life turned sour, although that can be one of the common facades life choose to present itself. No I’m quite the optimist, admittedly prone to reading too far into issues, but an optimist nonetheless. I guess I just missed writing, blogging, stringing a bunch of words into a sensible structure, whatever you call it. Ever since I absconded my EIC throne following the coup, I’ve not written anything creative (read: non-report/essay).

I was browsing through the submission I made for last term’s creative writing class, reminding myself how bloody smart I was to come up with 10 original poems in two days, and how bloody stupid the prof was for giving me a B+. I’ll never take it lying down, giving me an average grade for a piece I stripped my emotions stark naked trying to inspire. Damn him, and to let this matter pass, I’ve decided to put some down here, one piece a day, for the whole dang cyberworld of Robert Frost wannabes judge whether it deserves a dang B+. Call me a narcissist.

Field at Lorong Gambir 

For ten years I walked that field;

How it shrunk as I grew, when

My increasing strides made each

Journey appear shorter than the previous.

Many would agree to

This growing convenience,

Not me.

We shared ups and downs,

Akin to a friendship, some days

The bogged mud splattered up

To the collar of a shirt for a dinner

I hadn’t attended. And

I would curse such

Bad days.

Other times I enjoyed its companionship.

It gave me special access on nights

When the stars were particularly unabashed.

I would sit on its soft, prickly back

And finish a tub of ice cream

Like I was in an outdoor cinema,

Only better.

As I age, time seemed to move faster,

In tandem to what’s considered “progress”,

A bane to relationships in my own opinion,

And I neglected the field, largely

Because I knew its patience,

Which I’ve come to take

For granted.

I should’ve paid more attention;

Recently strangers with hardhats caged up

My friend in zinc fences and put up signs

To discourage the few who tried

Making contact, and I was late;

I didn’t even manage to

Bid farewell.

Farewell, Spangled Banner & All Your Idiosyncrasies

It’s been mighty long since I last posted anything, something which shouldn’t come as a surprise, however painful the absence was to my endearing fans, for I had been travelling on so packed and budget-tight a schedule it was beyond me (or anyone else for that matter) to blog, much less get an internet connection that’s free (and decent).

I would say this trip had been a very fulfilling one, in terms of both the expectations of our planned itinerary and what emotional gratifications I had hoped to derive.

I have cycled the coast of San Francisco, taken in all its nostalgia and the preservation of everything that was once and still is beautiful; everything from its cable cars to the elevators with handdrawn grille gates.

 I have gone and went two natural wonders of the world, the roaring Niagara Falls and the incredible serenity and grandeur of the Grand Canyon.

I have gambled and lost, both my money and gaze by the intoxicating allure of Las Vegas, very aptly coined Sin City, which one was prone to commit no matter how short the stay there be.

 I have experienced the eclectic NYC culture and society, every street told a different story. As some New Yorker on the street mentioned to me, if you can’t find something in NYC, it probably doesn’t exist.

I have seen the enchanting side of USA ingrained in our minds by great Hollywood films, but I have also seen its debauchery and self-victimising citizenship enough to shatter the fantasy of the former. You see perfectly able-bodied men and women alike begging for spare change, in one instance even asking for money to point us in the right direction. When it becomes possible to survive by just hustling people on the streets and not exchanging labour for remuneration, it’s time to rethink the welfare system.

You see advertisments on every channel by lawyers asking for potential clients to carry out petty collateral lawsuits. The abuse of the legal system climaxed with a ludicruous case; an administrative law judge, Roy L. Pearson sued a family-owned laundromat, in a lawsuit that sought USD53m in damages, all for losing one pair of his pants. The fact that such a clearly laughable lawsuit actually took 2 years of litigation to dismiss underscores the failings of a highly mature legal system overburdened by the sheer number of lawsuits -many of which are baseless- that were ironically incubated by its own “democratic” beliefs and constitution.

That being said, I still believe New York City and San Francisco are wonderful places to live and work, you’ll get what I mean when you’re there. In any case, with only very slight bias, I can tell you something – Singapore is really one of the best few places in the world to live. Prove me wrong otherwise.

Tans & Raybans

It must be every guys’ dream to own a pair of classic Ray-Ban shades, or at least that’s how I convinced myself to plow 80 bucks for my pair of model RB3272 at the Sunglass Hut. It’s too good a deal to miss, PLUS they sit so nicely on my face, which is a rarity by itself. -if you’ve seen me before you’ll know-

I also got a tan at the beach yesterday. The beaches here (at least where I’m at), are not like Singapore’s beaches where you walk 10 steps and you hit the shoreline. The slope is very gradual and quite a stretch before you hit the waves, leaving plenty of space to do beach activities, in my case, getting a tan.

After baking in the Sun for 1 over hour, I gave up on my attempt to get a Summer look because it’s quite obvious I’m not getting anywhere. It’s sad when you are melanin-deficient. Especially when you’re a guy.

On Internet Connections and Go-Karts

I’m now brazenly sitting on a rocking deck chair on someone’s front porch, leeching off their internet connection because the one at my place systematically broke down (again).

Can’t believe I’m paying USD80 a week for this hellhole while my friend working at another theme park only pays USD55 for his. His weekly pay is almost twice mine, which kinda sucks when both of you are basically doing the same shitty job.

On a better note, I got transferred to the go-kart racing track, and I consider that, arguably, a “promotion” of some sorts. I get new gear, like this cool red plastic whistle attached to a cool Teva-patterned lanyard. I mean, how many jobs actually allow you to blow a whistle at people? Makes you feel so much more powerful and authoritative, doncha think?

Which made my wandering mind start on the really cool jobs that all of us wanted as a kid. I’m sure everyone wanted to be a go-kart operator at some point in their lives. Like c’mon, who doesn’t like to experience the thrill of a F1 racer, less the likely explosions, deadly flips, vertebrae with multiple fractures, broken skulls and champagne showers? And being the operator gives you the power to “eject” anyone from the race track, which is pretty cool when you say it loud over the PA system.

“Red car number 36! This is your only warning! No road hogging or cutting off other cars!”

“Red car number 36! Find your brakes and stop! Your race has been terminated! And er, enjoy the rest of your stay at the park.”

I’ll keep you people updated on this cool new job of mine. Just to make y’all jealous.

I Speak (Profound) English

It’s inevitable that when you work in a theme park, on the same ride, in a small backwater seashore town busy only during the Summer, for over a month, you are bound to meet parents and their kids who frequent the place for their weekly family outings.

And although I must admit I don’t remember most of them, some faces get priority recall, because they either look distinct or visited my ride more than a comfortable number of times. There was this particular parent whom I’ve seen week after week, I remember him because he had this Kevin Bacon from Footloose thing going on,

and so I said “Hello again Sir”, as one would normally do if they saw someone persistently.

He looked surprised that I remembered him, picked himself up rather quickly though, apparently he remembered me and offered to shake hands, introducing himself as “Ed”. Obviously Ed doesn’t pack as much punch as a Kevin -Bacon- but heck, he was a cool and nice guy. And of course I know my manners, I told him my name’s SQ, which was quite redundant because I had this big employee badge attached to my chest that put those two meaningless alphabets elegantly across for anyone who bothered.

He asked what it stood for, I said it’s a long Chinese name & SQ’s just fine, he insisted, OK my name’s Shangqian, Shangquin? Typical, and I just smiled and gave a nod of approval like that was exactly how my name sounded.

After the ride he told me my English was “very profound”, which could mean I spoke excellent English, or that I had surpassed his imagination of a Chinese guy speaking English, but it doesn’t matter. For someone who actually uses “profound” to describe someone’s standard of spoken English, he has to be pretty profound himself, making the compliment more valuable. I didn’t forget my daily act of patriotism mind you, I told him in impeccable Singaporean English that I was from Singapore, and everyone there studies English. And he said that’s great, he’d love to visit one day.

Well, see you around in Singapore, Mr Ed Bacon.

I was Wrong

Today is a more freakzing day than yesterday and it was raining and it was cold and they didn’t allow us to have our umbrellas up even though we have them at every ride because simply the company policy is that umbrellas aren’t supposed to be up in the evening which was freakzing retarded because people don’t just use umbrellas to keep the sun out they actually use it to shelter from rain you freakzing retards and even after I attempted to use the umbrella on my own discretion it is pockmarked with so many tiny holes like swiss cheese that it only alleviated the freakzing problem a little bit by allowing tiny drops of rain hit me instead of the original big fat drops like wow and I’m so tired I don’t even feel like punctuating my sentences and now I’m off to bed to dream macabre scenarios on what I feel like doing to these freakzing people right now.

Freakzing Weather

The temperature today dipped to an all time low since I came. It’s less than 10 degrees celsius and most of us worked without gloves on, since we this was a SUMMER work and travel programme and people don’t naturally wear gloves in Summer, unless you scoop poop at the local zoo, which in this case would be Cape May County Zoo, which is free, btw.

That’s irrelevant though. What’s relevant here is that your fingers cramp up and you find it difficult to bend them, your feet hurt when you walk because it’s so freakzing cold and all you can do to keep warm is dance to the outdated pop music they blast intermittently over the speakers. That was pretty amusing, not just to you; the bypassers probably stifled a snigger as they further ingrained their stereotype that Asians dance like penguins waddling on hot coals.

On a plus side, I’m quite certain tomorrow will be warmer, because it’s either I get a raging fever from the freakzing cold or it couldn’t get any colder than today, since I’m sure as hell not working somewhere in Antartica the last time I checked, else I would be asking for more than just USD7.17 per hour.