The Happiest Week of My Life

whoa. it's been a while since my last post. well, I wanted to write about the worst week in my life, but I didn't want my blog to become all whiny so I stuck the week out and got myself over feeling down before posting again. I'll do a quick recap of the week's happy mishaps though:

1. The Pager Incident
Can anyone explain why the SAF, ever at the forefront of technology with its newly acquired Apache helicopters and fancy rifles that shoot around corners, still insists on using pagers to contact duty officers in the case of emergencies? While on duty a week ago, my antique personal communication device beeped twice (yea that's right...*beep* *beep*... everyone jump to your feet at the sound of that earthshaking alert chime) to a surprise GSOC test page, and surprise surprise, I didn't hear it. 45 mins after the page, they decide to call me on my mobile to ask me why I didn't respond to the pager. Of course, they contacted me immediately on my cellphone. Define absurdist comedy. Who said Kafka wrote fiction?

I might have to sign seven extra duties for not answering the page within 5 minutes. Hurray for this country where paranoia is the principal instrument of control.

2. The SOC Incident
On the second last day in camp before I begin clearing my leave en bloc, Clement and myself, the final vestiges of the old Republic collide head-on with the closing deathgrip of the new Empire. Too accustomed to the former system of conducting exercises within the brigade, we went ahead with the conduct of SOC training on Wednesday morning without the Supervising Officer being present. In the days of old, our usual Supervising Officer, OC Capt Joseph, was NEVER around. Two words, "Carry on," ruled the universe. Not anymore. The new Emperor has decreed that we reformed ourselves as a professional fighting force. Unfortunately, our Supervising Officer on Wednesday, Lta Alvin, hadn't quite caught on to the times: "Carry on," he said, and now we await the collateral damage from his downfall. I see Darth Jackie (our RSM) doing the Sith hold on Alvin. Alvin doesn't stand a chance. Mercy be on Clement (I guess he should be an Ewok) and myself (I fancy myself as Han of course...hehe).

3. The Water Heater Incident
It is true that this part of the world has become increasingly susceptible to earthquakes, tsunamis and all sorts of natural disasters. On Tuesday evening last week, the water heater above my bedroom ceiling inexplicably exploded, raining gallons upon gallons of water, and with it--death and destruction, onto my room and all its precious hoard of books, cds, magazines--my lifetime's worth of cultural collectibles that make up that strand of meaning that is myself. In an instant, my room is transformed into a disaster zone. The next few days resembles a minor rescue effort. Sun-dried artifacts are stacked in disorganized fashion: clothes piled on dictionaries; underwear sitting on cds. On the bright side, the upheaval has let me unearth heaps of unwanted garbage now finally disposed of, after sitting inconspicously beneath treasured junk for years serving as makeshift labyrinths for covert mosquitoes.

4. The I-Turned-My-Car-Into-the-Curb Incident
Self explanatory.

Immediately after Item Number Four on Friday night, Dani, who is sitting next to me in the car, discovers that I'm not all too upset and finds it rather puzzling. I explain to him that my recent run of gorgeously bad luck and poor timing can only point to the way up--meaning, I think I'm going to find myself a hot chick real soon. The law of karma says what goes up must come down, and vice versa. I tell Zhirui this same logic on Saturday morning before we go biking in Sentosa and he points out that if I got run over that morning while on my bike, I would definitely get a supermodel girlfriend in no time.

I almost get my right foot crushed by a careless driver reversing in the parking lot that same morning. Chiling Lin, here I come baby!