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My career with the Army ends unofficially on 1st December. Such an ending it was. Friends bidding me heartfelt farewells, attempting to destroy my ORD clearances to prevent me from going and dutifully performing one last act of routines. I was loved, and I am very grateful for that.

I made many friends in these 2 years of my life. And I have learned immensely from all the experiences that I've had. There are those many good times that I had the privilege to enjoyed every moment with my buddies. There are those many tough times that we suffered together. And I'm sure these memories will last with us forever. We will always recall the times we had to go through, the long hours we had to wait, the pain we had to resist, the mental strength needed to press on, the encouragements we gave one another, the strength to take another step and the final charge into our glorious arrival at the end of the road.

The stories from my Tekong days of us arriving with many of us a head full of hair making friends, and the next moment not recognising who they were when we were all left bald.
Where our platoon sergeant sat us down at the corridor the bunk to do roll calls and info updates, while we were left to remember the bunch of information given to us.
Where we trained under the hot scorching mid day sun in the cooked parade square ground, burning our skins and leaving blisters aplenty.
Where we first ran the SOC which took hours to persuade one of our frightened platoon mates down from the height of the Jacob's ladder.
Where we were awoken up every morning at 5:30am and still seeing lifeless bodies around in their beds.
Where we ran for kilometre after kilometre burning all the fats we possibly could have.
Where we tempted the ghosts of Tekong with impossible antics and receiving our just desserts by landing in the hospital.
Where we moved forward in so much disunity in a jungle assault movement that we were left with ear damage from all the shouting from our sergeants.
Where we were made to run up and down up and down across the company line by a platoon sergeant who is 1.6m and shouts like a duck.
Where we were confined and made to clean up the toilet with 2 of them choking full of shit but no one to take ownership.
Where we were made to charge across a mudfield crawling and running just to smack a dummy with our rifle.
Where we were made to simulate a warzone by crawling through live ammunition fired above head, of which was not as scary as they tried to portray.
Where we celebrated the passing of our IPPT and the changing of Chin Hua from platoon IC
Where we walked around with nothing but our underwear challenging each other to do pull-ups while the rest of us pull-down his..
Where we would share to one another about our life stories of love and lost and comforting one another in the little time we were given.
Where we went for our final field camp for BMT and wayanging our leadership qualities.
Where we surrounded our platoon sergeant on the 2nd last night with weapons such as bedsheet and chairs in our hands, only to drop everything on the count of three and give him the biggest group hug of his little life.
Where we marched the final 24km route march throughout the night, like as if to chase the sun to chase back, otherwise we cannot book out.
Where I ironed 20 over uniforms for my platoon mates because they didnt know how and the very next day was the final rehearsal.
Where we awake on the last day with our platoon sergeant sitting us down again at the same corridor, talking to us for one last time.
Where we marched and marched for the last time together with our heads held high and chest all puffed up with pride.
Where we threw high our jockey caps into the skies when the final and very last command was given.


This is only one story. In my experience in these two years, I had many many more, OCS, OOC, 3months MC, MWC and my continuing outside life.
And these are the stories I will not forget.

Ever since it happened 5 months ago, my life took a 180 degree change. It's really like nothing's the same.
I began to be unraveled. And ever so often, I feel my weakness creeping up to me.
Something that I held and hid for so long within me, for so long, for so hard. But now I feel that it keeps resurfacing.
I don't like it. This weakness makes me pathetic.
But yet, I cannot help it.

I have this special someone.

She made luo han guo for me to drink when she felt that I was very heaty.
She refused to avoid me when I was down with an infectious fever.
She rubbed my back for me when I was sick and when I told her it makes me feel better.
She would love to hear me everyday and she wouldn't feel happy if she doesn't.
She looks after my daily water intake and insists that I drink water consistently.
She allows me to hang out with my friends even when it is at the expense of our time together.
She even teared for me when she saw all the scarring on my skin.

How sweet and cute can this girl get?

Love you :)

"The day you got me love struck."
Happy 4th of August baby =)

There seems to be few motivation for me to blog nowadays. Not that there's nothing to talk about. Funny.

I had my IPPT recently. It was a criteria for my double promotion from Private to Lance Corporal, and Lance Corporal to Corporal, all in 2 weeks. All I needed was a pass. Sounds simple enough. no?


This time IPPT results
 
Fail                                                                   Points
Sit-ups                               :  42                            5
Standing Broad Jump    : 234cm                     5
Pull-ups                            :  12                            5
Shuttle Run                      :  10.0s                      5
2.4km Run                       :  12mins 48s           1


Compared to my OCS training days:

Gold                                                                Points
Sit-ups -                                50                          5
Standing broad jump -      234cm                   5
Pull-ups -                             12                           5
Shuttle run -                        10.1s                      5
2.4km -                                 9 mins 36s           5



What the f%#& right? This is pathetic. I must train up again. And I really hope my knee would cooperate.



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I've been recently reminded of a past event again, during my training days last year. My army training days, in Tekong and OCS, have both left a deep scar (good and bad) on me, and those days are something I would never ever forget.




     It was February 13th 2008, the day before St. Valentine's Day. The day of the Lovers' approaches, yet there was no mercy to be found under the burning Tekong sun and within a group of deeply disturbed Mohawk company sergeants. We were made to knock-it-down on the sizzling hot ground of Tekong parade square, perform unlimited counts sit-ups, and tormented with never-ending jumping-jacks. It seems to us that Cupid has abandoned us this year, on this forsaken island, a million miles away from Singapore. Our minds can only go to those on the outside, in hope that they would spend, on our behalf, a better Valentines' Day than we would. And before we can daydream any further, we were brought back to our senses with "NEXT UP, WE HAVE 30-60!", shouted Sergeant Kiew.

     '30-60" is an exercise designed for torture. It comes on top of routine morning runs, daily group runs and running from point to point when we/re being shouted at. In 30-60, we have to jog for 60 seconds, and upon the whistle blow, we are sprint as fast as inhumanly possible for 30 seconds. Anyone caught not following suit would be confined to run the whole day on Saturday. And 30-60 does not end so easily; it is repeated and repeat for multiple sets, till we waste away and breathe as if the sky no longer has air. Just before it ends, Sergeant Kiew shouts "NOW WE HAVE 60-120!"

    
Continued.

The new beginning :)

This post is koped from a friend, Xiang Ren.
Speaking of kope. Someone has been koping all the Milo packs we get for supper every night. I've hardly drank any Milo since I've been to this camp. The stupid bloody kiasu people. 

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This story tells us something about LOVE & LIFE.

My husband is S/W Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders.

Two years of courtship and now, five years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.

I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings. I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband is my complete opposite; his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about LOVE.

One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.

"Why? " he asked, shocked.

"I am tired. There are no reasons for everything in the world !" I answered.

He kept silent the whole night, seemingly in deep thought. My feeling of disappointment only increased. Here was a man who was not able to even express his predicament, so what else could I expect from him?

And finally he asked me: "What can I do to change your mind?"

Somebody said it right... It's hard to change a person's personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him.

Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered: "Here is the question. If you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind.

Let's say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death. Will you do it for me?"

He said: " I will give you your answer tomorrow...." My hopes just sank by listening to his response.

I woke up the next morning to find him gone, and saw a piece of paper with his scratchy handwriting underneath a milk glass, on the dining table near the front door, that goes....

My dear, "I would not pick that flower for you, but....please allow me to explain the reasons further.....

This first line was already breaking my heart. I continued reading.

"When you use the computer you always mess up the Software programs, and you cry in front of the screen. I have to save my fingers so that I can help to restore the programs.

You always leave the house keys behind, thus I have to save my legs to rush home to open the door for you.

You love traveling but always lose your way in a new city. I have to save my eyes to show you the way.

You always have the cramps whenever your "good friend" approaches every month. I have to save my palms so that I can calm the cramps in your tummy.

You like to stay indoors, and I worry that you will be infected by infantile autism. I have to save my mouth to tell you jokes and stories to cure your boredom.

You always stare at the computer, and that will do nothing good for your eyes. I have to save my eyes so that when we grow old, I can help to clip your nails and help to remove those annoying white hairs. So I can also hold your hand while strolling down the beach, as you enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful sand...and tell you the colour of flowers, just like the colour of the glow on your young face...

Thus, my dear, unless I am sure that there is someone who loves you more than I do... I could not pick that flower yet, and die ...

" My tears fell on the letter, and blurred the ink of his handwriting... And as I continue on reading... "Now, that you have finished reading my answer, and if you are satisfied, please open the front door for I am standing outside bringing your favorite bread and fresh milk...

I rushed to pull open the door, and saw his anxious face, clutching tightly with his hands, the milk bottle and loaf of bread....Now I am very sure that no one will ever love me as much as he does, and I have decided to leave the flower alone...

That's LIFE, and LOVE. When one is surrounded by love, the feeling of excitement fades away, and one tends to ignore the true love that lies in between the peace and dullness.

Love shows up in all forms; even in very small and cheeky forms. It has never been a model. It could be the dullest and most boring form ...

Flowers, and romantic moments are only used and appear on the surface of the relationship. Under all this, the pillar of true love stands... AND THAT'S LIFE


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This is love and life. For those still living in your airy-fairy land, here's a slap *PIACK* to send you back down to reality. Nowadays (from what my rather large satellite dish has gathered) people (the especially susceptible ones being girls) are intoxicated with ridiculous dramas and ideas that love must be over the top and extravagant. So much so that sometimes they expect so much from everything, that they miss out on the true type of happiness that comes to us in our daily lives. Love is around you. If you don't take the time to find that love and hope hopelessly for perfect love, you will realise one day that it'll all just pass you by.

And to me, to be loveless is the worst form of torture that any person can suffer.

So please, wake up.

I know I should be blogging about my birthday parties. I really wanna thank a lot of people this year for celebrating my birthday, cake after cakes. I really didn't expect anything actually. But there's something else I wanna blog about first.


In my RP course, I met several friends. One was a handsome Indian guy called Sundar. We would hang around together, work in pairs and go home together in the duration of the course. Apparently, he knows Magesh, someone in YJC whom I've met since Secondary school. And they happen to be the best of friends. And Sundar and I happened to be buddies throughout the course. Such are the revelations that are coming to me almost everytime I meet someone new. And don't get me started on Addie's friend. 

Everyday when we step out of the camp, we would see this girl. She would stand outside the camp gates across the road at 5:30pm each day, looking intently for someone. And each day, she dresses differently. Some days she dresses in a pretty dress, looking ready to hit town. Some days she wears a simple T-shirt and shorts, casual and ready to go home. And she was quite pretty, not in general pretty way, but in a way where certain people would find her rather attractive. She would always stand there at the exact same spot, beside a tall tree and an unused construction truck. But everyday, her reason for being there, looked on by hundreds of curious eyes booking out of camp, was the same; she was waiting for her guy to book out.

Sundar and I would always look forward to seeing this girl. It wasn't that she was overly attractive to us. But seeing her there waiting just warms your heart and make you wonder about your own sad, sad life. Sometimes, I really wish I would find someone like that. A simple girl who would go the lengths for you. Regardless of everything material; time, money and effort, all of which, to me, are meaningless possessions if we have no one to spent them on. If I ever find such a girl, I would be happy to walk the fires and cross the Pacific for her. And I would go all the way just to make her day, just like how she would always make mine. But it is no longer easy to find such partners. (Haha... Already I can hear all the pragmatic Singaporeans calling me foolish.)

The girl at the gate was the sweetest girlfriend, and to have her waiting for him everyday outside camp, for that two weeks, her boyfriend is the luckiest guy to exit the gates of Clementi Camp.