Two Weeks.

The clock is ticking even as I am typing this.

My hair's so darned short, but I don't care.

Only two weeks more and I'm off to paradise.

Officially The Owner Of The Best Birthday Present In the World

As of the 16th of March 2009, I am officially the owner of the Best Birthday Present (BBP) in the world! :) I can't hide how thrilled I am by it. It means so much to me and I'm going to keep it with me for the rest of my life. Really, anyone who sees it will agree its the nicest thing ever. I am the LUCKIEST GUY in the world. 

Patience.

Patience is a virtue. 

Sometimes, the best things in life come to those who wait for it.

I am waiting, patiently, expectantly.

28 days and counting.

Singapore: The Tenth Most Expensive City To Live In

Singapore is now ranked 10th most expensive city in the world, but economists here note that this reflects sharp exchange rate movements rather than changes in living costs.

Dramatic shifts in currency values have propelled Singapore towards the top of a survey of the world's most expensive cities. The Republic leapt five places to 10th costliest city in the world in just six months, as European cities like Brussels and Dublin have become relatively cheaper places following the euro's plunge in value, according to the Economist Intelligence Unit (EIU) survey of 140 cities. London fell from 8th to to an incredible 27th on the list - reflecting the near 30 per cent depreciation of the British pound against the dollar over a half-year period.

Report editor Jon Copestak said: "Two factors drive the relative cost of living - local prices and exchange rates. Normally, the ranking of cities by cost of living is relatively stable, but in the current global climate, changes in exchange rates have significantly altered our assessment of the most and least expensive cities."

Analogies and Quotations

Dr Linda Lim

On Her Choice Analogy Of Singapore

"Singapore is like a tropical fish tank - beautiful, luxurious but expensive to maintain, and very vulnerable to balance in the water and loss of other external inputs. And even if everything works well, all the time, it is still just a fish tank, not the ocean itself, with its greater dangers, challenges, opportunities and treasures."

On Her Greatest Worry For Singaporeans

"That by clinging to the past and being wedded to old models and old ideas in a world rapidly changing beyond our control, in refusing to change, in being risk-adverse and conservative, the country and the people will end up being marginalised in the new global market economy, unable to compete with other more energetic, self-reliant, entrepreneurial and innovative populations, and being overtaken by them."

On Thinking And Saying

"I say what I think. A lot of people here think the same way but not say it. There's a "Don't quote me culture here, such that bad ideas don't get shot down and good ideas don't get volunteered."

On The Best Way Forward For Singapore

The way forward for Singapore, she says, is to allow the market to diversify on its own, with resource allocation done by market forces and entrepreneurs, instead of the state and bureaucrats.

"Do we devote our carefully husbanded national savings, accumulated over generations, to letting the state make big bets on a few major, capital-intensive, risky and expensive projects?

"Or do we privatise the economy, releasing capital and talent to local entrepreneurs to create value in smaller but nimbler enterprises? At least, if they fail, it will take only small parts, rather than big chunks, of the economy down with them.

"It's much better to send out 100 motorboats, rather than one huge aircraft carrier, into the unknown. I would bet on at least some of the motorboats making it, instead of the aircraft carrier, a sitting duck, which could get blown up."

Barack Obama, on the importance of education:

"In a 21-st century world where jobs can be shipped wherever there's an Internet connection; where a child born in Dallas is competing with children in Delhi; where your best job qualification is not what you do, but what you know - education is no longer just a pathway to opportunity and success, it is a prerequisite. So let there be no doubt: the future belongs to the nation that best educates its citizens."

Ninety Cents A Day

I promise to invest ninety cents every weekday, or four dollars fifty cents every week, or eighteen dollars every month, on a copy of The Straits Times. I haven't been reading the newspaper for a long while and its high time I buckle down and get to doing it. I've been procrastinating for too long and I've been wasting too much time. Reading is a good habit and it doesn't matter if I don't read the newspaper from cover to cover; at least I'm making a concerted effort to keep abreast with daily news from around the globe. I think eighteen dollars a month is a small price to pay for the many benefits I will invariably gain from reading the papers regularly. 

I wonder why my office doesn't offer free copies of the newspaper though...

His Name Is Jack

Jack of some trades, Master of none. Why, oh why.

Monday. For the first time in two to three weeks, I didn't have work. This includes weekends as well, if you were wondering. And what a world of difference one single day of rest makes! I finally had the chance to stay at home, run some errands, chat with some friends of mine, and lunch with my parents. It felt wonderful. Not to mention that I trounced Seth with Sagat hoho. I think I'm just a touch lucky though.

Tuesday, today. The routine is back. I have such a long day ahead of me - work, followed by tuition at night. I feel like playing squash on wednesday night, shall go ask Pogo and see what he's up to.

A Lesson in Mediocrity

I was never born to be the dancing, weaving magician on the soccer court. I've always seeked to nullify, to counteract. I battle, I tussle, I hassle. 

At my best, I can suffocate the opposition's biggest attacking threat with my speed and determination. I can create goalscoring opportunities with a single pass. I can keep excellent possession of the ball for the team. I can unleash thunderous shots from any position on the court.

At my worst, I am outwitted by quick-thinking, skilful dribblers. I am unable to influence the game, much less decide its outcome single-handedly. I am easily disheartened and discouraged when things go awry. I am too one-dimensional and right-footed in my attacking play. I give the ball away in fatal positions which lead to goals for the opposition. 

There's one point important point I haven't mentioned: I hardly approach my best, if at all. So much for being a perfectionist, I guess, when I can't even achieve something remotely close to being above average at the sport I love most.

The Starbucks Experience

I've been to the glasshouse at Starbucks Novena on occasion and I haven't encountered the warmth or superior service as mentioned in the book. The place scores points for its excellent decor and ambience but doesn't offer anything close to the levels of service as suggested in the book. And I've always preferred the Frappucinos at Coffee Bean anyway. I understand it's personal preference, but the ice-blends at Starbucks taste rather unremarkable to me.

Let me list down some of the details mentioned in the book, on what makes Starbucks such an immersive experience for the average American consumer:

1. At Starbucks, "being welcoming" is an essential way to get the customer's visit off to a positive start. It is also the foundation for producing a predictably warm and comfortable environment. It enables partners to forge a bond with customers so that infrequent visitors become regulars, many of whom end up customers for life. I don't feel that the staff at Starbucks are any more welcoming than the $1 bubble tea shop auntie underneath my block.

2. Starbucks partners are trained not just to listen to their customers, but to take action immediately based on what they hear, and to learn from these experiences for future customer interactions. I feel that a coffee purchase at Starbucks is just another business transaction, not dissimilar to the experience at other coffee retailers.

3. The Starbucks sensation is driven not just by the quality of its products but by the entire atmosphere surrounding the purchase of coffee: the openness of its store space, interesting menu boards, the shape of its counter, and the cleanliness of the floorboards. What Starbucks recognized long before its imitators was that the art of retailing coffee went way beyond product. The details of the total experience mattered. Every particular - from napkins to coffee bags, store-fronts to window seats, annual reports to mail order catalogs, tabletops to thermal carafes - seems to reflect the authentic and organic roots of Starbucks. This statement sounds a tad exaggerated, but I agree for most part of it.

4. The difference between good and great can often be the willingness of leadership to structure surprising moments around calendar opportunities. Starbucks leadership often initiates a surprise event that is not primarily aimed at self-promotion. To celebrate summer and National Ice Cream Month baristas served one million free cups of ice cream at 6,000 starbucks locations for an unadvertised 'ice cream social'. I've witnessed free cone day at Ben and Jerry's, and I've also come across days where Starbucks give away coffee for free. It irks me that Singaporeans will do anything for freebies, even if it means queuing for hours. This spoils the entire experience. If I desire coffee, I'll willingly pay for the Starbucks experience. It simply doesn't make sense to queue for hours on end for coffee just because it is free. I can't even grab a copy of Today on the way to work because the queue for the paper at Bishan MRT is verging on the ridiculous. This behaviour is so typical of Singaporeans that I am, at times, ashamed to acknowledge myself as one. Some people either have too much time on their hands or are struggling to make ends meet amidst this financial crisis. I certainly cannot fault them if that is the case.

5. By providing a high-quality, consistent customer experience, Starbucks offers a place for conversation, connection, and reconnection. Go by Starbucks on any given afternoon, and you will find young people huddled around tables in conversation for hours. Business meetings take place. Friends catch up over a Frappucino blended beverage. I don't agree that the customer experience is high-quality, but it is undoubtedly consistent, albeit unremarkable. Starbucks appeals because it effuses comfort and relaxation without imposing time constraints. I enjoy catching up with friends over a casual cup of coffeee. It must be mentioned, however, that Coffee Bean offers a similar if not better experience than Starbucks, especially since its ice-blends are more delectable. While Starbucks has the edge based on the strength of its brand and its impeccable store location and decor, my friends and I will often opt to visit Coffee Bean ahead of Starbucks.

I've read half the book, and these are my thoughts so far. I hope I can finish reading it before it is due next week!

One Step At A Time

We live and we learn to take one step at a time, there's no need to rush.

It's like learning to fly, or falling in love.

Responsibility Versus Money

There are a few reasons why I'm so adamant about giving up my Sunday job. Make no mistake about it, the job pays well, especially when you consider my A-level qualifications and the lackadaisical job market. I have learnt how to manage a class of students, and the teaching experience has certainly helped me develop better mentoring techniques. And yes, I am grateful to my boss for entrusting me with the task of educating her students. But perhaps I've been too naive in expecting that the basic function of teachers is to teach, and to teach well. Recent adjustments have seen teachers at the centre take on extra workloads without being reasonably compensated for their time and efforts. Yet the crux of the issue isn't simply to do with dollars and cents, but to do with dollars and sense. What lengths should a teacher go to for his students?

I believe that it is exceedingly difficult to become an excellent teacher. It takes many years of experience and exposure to different students at different levels. It requires that the teacher is unremitting in his efforts to seek the best for his students, at the cost of his personal time. It requires the teacher to be able to develop and display two sides to his personality: the strict, serious and discerning figurehead in class, and the fun-loving, humourous friend outside of it. And I believe the most important ingredient of all lies in the teacher's ability to inspire his students to learn. I am hardly even one-hundredth of a good teacher, let alone a great one.

I say that it is a toss-up between dollars and sense, because although the renumeration is attractive and important, it does not mean that I would continue to stretch myself indefinitely even if I am being paid more. I am a perfectionist. If I find that I fall short of delivering my best to my students, then I have failed my task as a teacher. They do not deserve me; they deserve someone else who can give their best, even if he is not as good a teacher as I am. I don't have the time to devise worksheets or to develop concrete lesson plans and notes. I don't have the energy to create full-length exam papers or to painstakingly mark their work. These are all the little sacrifices which make a great teacher, and I certainly fall way short of the benchmark.

Perhaps, I try to convince myself, that I am better suited to teaching on a one-to-one basis. It is infinitely easier to focus on a single student, rather than having to adjust your teaching style to suit each and every student in a small class. There is no one-size-fits-all approach here. There are the fast students and the slow ones. There are bright students who inexplicably fail to meet reasonable expectations at exams, and there are the not-so-bright ones who surpass all expectations at exams. Then there are students who are more easily distracted than others...the list goes on.

I realize that I am ranting. But the point remains that I am a decidedly poor teacher, especially when it comes to teaching in a group. I simply cannot handle the pressure placed on my shoulders to make every lesson an exceptional learning experience for my students. Perhaps I have unreasonably high expectations of myself. Perhaps not. But I do know that once my replacement at the centre arrives, I will have a happy, carefree Sunday to myself, and I will be able to rediscover the joy of sharing these precious Sundays with my friends and family all over again. And then there is the enticing prospect of grass, boots, shin guards, sweat, and a little thing called a soccer ball. 

Stress, I Heart You.

Over the past three months, I have stared stress in the eye and battled toe-to-toe with it atop the highest of mountains, and in the deepest of abysses. This is due in no small part to the insane seven-day work week I've brought upon myself.

Essential highlights of the week include: 

1. An 8.30-6.00 Monday to Friday job at NUS as an administrative assistant; this excludes the one-and-a-half hours of travel I have to endure to and from work;

2. Monotonous, mundane journeys on the packed buses and trains during peak hours; I have my iPod to thank for infusing this routine with song and dance;

3. Occasional private tuition lessons after work on weekdays, from 7.30-9.30pm;

4. Rather frequent meet-ups (and supper!) with my close friends after work and on weekends;

5. On Friday nights, weekly street soccer gatherings which help to energize my life;

6. Saturday morning tuition from 10-12pm at Khatib, followed by a short break, then tuition again from 6-8pm at Paya Lebar;

7. Saturday night EPL over at home, or at a friend's house, or with a beer and snacks at a bar;

8. A full Sunday's worth of tuition commencing at 9am and ending at 5pm with a two-hour lunch break in between;

9.  A nice Sunday dinner with friends or family, followed by Sunday night EPL;

10. Refer to step ONE. Repeat process for three consecutive months.

Stress, I heart you. You've mashed me to a pulp and squeezed the last drop of juice from my withering core. All that's left are the inedible seeds of my demise. But the promise of rejuvenation and recovery springs forth from these very seeds you choose not to consume. Come april, these seeds shall have developed into the most beautiful of flowers and the sweetest of fruits. And I will be the happiest apple in the entire universe; an apple with wings, in preparation for the best month of my twenty-one years thus far. Stress, I heart you. But no more.

Sweet Sweet Twenty-One

Time. Sometimes I admire the beauty of the analog clock with its second-hand ticking away in mechanical, robotic fashion. It reminds me that time waits for no man; it seeps and slips away whether you are youthful or ancient, happy or depressed, energized or tired. Maybe that is why I prefer staring at the digital clock at the bottom of my screen as I am attempting to finish this post within the confines of my workspace, since it lulls me into a false sense of security that perhaps, time does not pass that quickly after all.

I'll be twenty-one come the middle of March. My parents have nurtured my development from toddler to teenager to the young adult I've become. From showering me with attention and affection in my adolescence, to entrusting me with utmost freedom (with snippets of advice and the odd scolding) in my late teens, they have shown me what it means to love their son. They've adapted their depiction of love over the years as I've matured. As much as I wish for the aging process to halt, the fact remains that they are nearly three times my age this year. I pray for time to take kindly to their health and happiness. Their old-fashioned pearls of wisdom can only serve to guide me through the trials and tribulations I will encounter over the next decade and more.

My last blog post was around two years ago. I certainly enjoy reading the posts as they remind me of how my life used to be, at least partially. Sometimes the most important things at that moment in your life can diminish so greatly in significance that you wonder if it was really ever that important to you at all. Time heals all wounds and solves most problems, but then again, maybe you were the root of the problem. If you don't wake up from dreamland, who will? If you don't grasp the opportunities that present themselves to you everyday, who can force you to? There are so many paths to take and so many choices to make; ultimately, it is these choices which shape our lives and define the deepest of our character traits.

It has been like this for quite sometime now, just that I haven't had the motivation to pen it down. I'd forgotten about this path of escapism. But, all things said, and this won't make much sense to anyone other than myself, I know what it feels like to feel this way again.