101 Ways To Be An Idiot: Chapter 6

So a few days ago I woke up late and left my house in a mad rush, literally running late for work.

As I was half-sprinting towards the bus-stop, I could vaguely hear the familiar roaring of bus service 145's engine. (Yes, I'm so finely tuned to my neighbourhood that I can differentiate the bus services just by listening to the engine alone.)

To my extreme horror, the sound was getting fainter which only meant that the bus was leaving the bus-stop.

Natural instincts injected a fresh dose of adrenaline through my legs as I powered my way forward.

Sadly, even though I managed to smash the World Record for the event "100m Bus-Stop Sprint", I was rewarded with a sight of probably the only butt in the world which I hate to see, THE BUTT OF MY BUS.

"Bus-ket!" (I know it's lame, but I couldn't help it.)

And thus I began my lonely wait for the next bus in the very empty bus-stop.

Seriously, waiting for the bus at a bus-stop devoid of the working crowd at 8.30am on a normal weekday makes you feel like an ultra-loser.

Five minutes passed, there was no sign of the bus.

Ten minutes passed, the bus hasn't came yet but more and more people began to stream into the bus-stop.

Fifteen minutes passed, still no sign of the bus but the bus-stop was once again populated with life.

The bus finally made its grand appearance on the 20th minute of my wait.

Apparently, I was one of the first few to have noticed that the bus.

Being the kiasu Singaporean that I am, I plotted and schemed to put myself at the front of the pack.

Oh, how proud was I when I somehow managed to attain the coveted position.

Next I sank my hand into my pocket, ready to whip out my trusty EZ-Link card.

To my extreme horror *insert paramount sense of déjà vu here* ...

MY EZ-LINK WASN'T IN MY POCKET!

I desperately dug around my pocket but all I could feel were MY BALLS.

I LEFT THE CARD ON MY TABLE BACK AT HOME OMFG!

Imagine my embarassment when I had to squeeze and claw my way out of the crowd behind me and head back home for my EZ-Link card.

Bah, why didn't I checked for my EZ-Link card throughout the whole 20 minutes while I was waiting for the bus?!

I could have went home and get back like 5 times and STILL make it in time for the bus.

I ended up having to take a cab down to my workplace.

This whole episode wasted 20 minutes of my life, and $7.50 of my hard-earned money.

Just another chapter in... 101 Ways To Be An Idiot.

MoREAL Courage.

I was sending my baobei home yesternight and we were waiting for our bus at the bus bay. Everything went along fine and our bus eventually arrived. We were preparing to board the bus when we noticed quite a commotion occurring ahead of our queue. Curiosity then pressed us to probe further into what was actually happening.

There was this guy (probably a foreign worker) in the opposite queue who was leaning way backwards on the support railing. His body appeared to be straightened and stiff like a plank of wood. His eyes were rolled back and his face was covered in sweat.

"What's happening to this man?"

"What can I do to help him?"

"Is there a need to help him?"

I thought to myself over and over again. I even tried to replay the CPR course from my Army days in my head. A barrage of afterthoughts soon followed.

As I approached him, my mind went into a complete blank. I froze when it was time for action. Ultimately, I didn't do anything to help. I just avoided him and went on to board the bus.

As I stood on the bus and watched person after person pass by this man without rendering help, an immense sense of guilt and regret overcame me. I knew what was the right thing to do, but I didn't act on it. I've always thought of myself as someone who is not your typical unfeeling Singaporean, someone who cares about the people around him, someone who would always be the first to lend a helping hand.

Sadly, as I realized yesternight, that was just fantasy on my part. It wasn't reality. I do not possess the moral courage to do what was right. I'm just a coward, one who was seriously disappointed in himself.

I know it's easy to stand back and blame other people for not helping, but if everyone were to do that then will there actually be someone stepping forward to render assistance?

I did some research on my own after the incident to find out what are the steps to undertake should I encounter a similar situation in the future. From my readings, I suspect that the man was suffering a seizure.

A seizure is a temporary abnormal electro-physiologic phenomenon of the brain, resulting in abnormal synchronization of electrical neuronal activity. Put simply, a seizure causes a person to lose control of their body movement or function, sensation, awareness or behaviour. It can last for several seconds to status epilepticus, which is a continuous seizure that will not stop without intervention.

First aid for seizures include not letting the person fall awkwardly and placing the person in an area free of sharp or dangerous objects. This is done to prevent injuries. The person should not be restrained in any way nor should there be any attempt to put something into the mouth. It is not necessary to call an ambulance if the person is known to have epilepsy, if the seizure is shorter than five minutes and is typical for them, if it is not immediately followed by another seizure, and if the person is uninjured. Otherwise, or if in any doubt, medical assistance should be sought.

So now that I know how to render first aid for seizures, I do not have an excuse to wimp out the next time I meet with a similar case. I want to do better the next time round.

Why We Should Be Friends.

So I was clearing some rubbish that were lying around my table for like eons. There were some study notes and a few consent forms, but the bulk of it was made up of uncompleted homework, LOTS of them. As I sifted through the pile to determine if there were any important documents which I might want to keep, I managed to excavate some priceless relics.

One of them was this letter written on a piece of crumpled and slightly yellowish Azone A4-sized paper. It was titled "Why We Should Be Friends".

The good old memories from Archester poured into my mind.

What is Archester you might ask?

The year was 1999. I was a plump nerd who joined the 1I class of River Valley High School. Everyone in the class was a stranger to me. Nonetheless, the boys bonded really quickly and before long we were like blood brothers.

We started getting really interested in soccer and eventually, we decided to form our own soccer team. After putting our heads together, it was a general consensus to settle on the name "Archester". It was a mix of the cream of the crop from the English Premier League, (Ar)senal and Man(chester). We actually considered adding Liverpool into the fray, but seriously Averchester didn't exactly sound cool, nor did Mansenapool, nor did Livchesenal. Well, you get the drift. So Archester it was, short and sharp.

Once the end-of-school bell rang, we would literally sprint to the nearby street soccer courts. It was the real reason why we came to school. The obsession was to the point where soccer was our primary duty instead of our studies. A few of us were even ranked amongst the worst students of our level academically.

Still, we didn't give a rat's ass about it. Our mind was only focused on the single act of kicking the ball into the back of the net. We were young and dangerous. Back in our heyday, we could even have conquered the world easily if we wanted to.

However, one fine day, our Form Teacher decided to break up the party. She reasoned that we were getting way out of hand and that the only way to salvage us was to split our group up and re-assign us to other classes. Our teacher had effectively puncture our balls. (This is just a figure of speech.)

Instant panic took over and Archester held emergency meetings to plan our next move. We decided to write an appeal to our teacher and prove to her that we were not being detrimental to each other, which essentially meant a well-thought pack of lies woven into a nice composition. (Pretty ingenious for a group of 14 year olds right? Yeah I know. We were THAT smart.)

So we got ourselves a piece of paper and started writing "Why We Should Be Friends". Everyone was suppose to contribute one paragraph to save our organization. Boy, was I proud of the work we did. Here is our masterpiece:

Page 1

Page 2

Needless to say, our teacher was utterly touched by the genuine friendship conveyed through our letter and we all lived happily ever after, eagerly anticipating the next end-of-school bell to ring once again.

101 Ways To Be An Idiot: Chapter 5

So I woke up this morning without being awake.

Using sheer will alone, I managed to muster enough energy to lumber into the bathroom.

Still with my eyes wide shut, basic instinct took control as I attempted to bathe myself.

The bath was quite a success and it was then time for my facial wash.

I thought to myself, "Oh come on, I managed to get to the bathroom, bathe, and dry myself all with my eyes closed. It's just a facial wash, maybe I can sleep through this too..."

I proceeded to reach for the tube with my right hand and squeezed the paste into my left palm.

Then, I started to rub the paste between my palms in a circular motion.

Lastly, I applied the paste onto my beautiful face.

Nothing wrong up till this moment right?

Yeah nothing was wrong...

UNTIL I FELT THIS BURNING SENSATION ON MY FACE!

I tried to open my eyes a little to take a look at the tube of paste I just used.

Despite my face feeling like it caught on fire, my brain worked in slo-mo.

C...O...L...G...A...T...E...

COLGATE?!? Wasn't my facial wash supposed to be spelled as NIVEA?

OH MY GOD I SQUEEZED THE TUBE OF TOOTHPASTE INSTEAD OF THE TUBE OF FACIAL WASH.

I tried to douse the flames with the running tap.

I was even this close to dipping my entire head into the toilet bowl and taking a flush.

Alright, allow me to explain before all of you smart- asses go like, "Haha! Serves you right for wanting to sleep so much! None of this would have happened if you weren't so lazy!"

You have to understand that sleep is an especially important aspect of life to a fit and healthy man such as myself. I live by the mantra: "Sleep whenever we can, however we can." Otherwise, how else do we find the limitless energy needed to tackle Life's never-ending challenges?

So after this small little incident, I decided to add a little extra bit to my mantra.

"Sleep whenever you can, however you can. Maybe except not during facial wash time."

Just another chapter in... 101 Ways To Be An Idiot.

Learning The Way of... ADOBE PHOTOSHOP!

As you guys might know, I recently re-ignited my interest in drawing and so have started an artblog @ http://veinity.deviantart.com/.

I've been snooping around other artists' galleries and man, the talent is mind-blowing! The digital artpieces that they can produce from Photoshop is totally insane. For example, take a look at this turkish guy's gallery @ http://kerembeyit.deviantart.com/.

Then, I thought to myself... Why stop at drawing? Why not pick up skills to abuse Adobe Photoshop too? So I searched through some tutorials online to learn how to do some basic colouring and shadowing. I also learnt how to paint some simple clouds using photoshop today.

After 5 hours of blood, sweat and tears, here's the fruit of my labour:

Long Horn in his original Black & White pencil sketch

Here's Long Horn happily at home amongst the clouds!

Isn't it amazing how much life a little bit of color can breathe into sketches? I know I'm still a long, LONG way from being good at photoshop, so I'll have to work extra hard! I hope one day I can produce pieces that are even remotely near Kerem Beyit's standard. Feeling so inspired now!

P.S. In case you're wondering, I didn't go to work today so that's why I got time on my hands to be doing stuff like this! Hahaha...

Depressing Times...

Liverpool got knocked out of the Champions' League this morning.

It was an exhilarating match nonetheless, action was end-to-end.

Yet, it's precisely that knowledge of being so close to the Finals that makes it all the more depressing.

Well, better luck next year.

I'm going to cry over this for a few more days.

(Yeah, I know you're thinking: "Come on it's only just a game." You're wrong. Football is not just a game. Football is LIFE.)