The past few days have flown past in fervid flashes of frantic Christmas shopping and I am dead-sure that I am suffering from the grave malaise known as "Taka Fatigue"...I have been trawling the boutiques for great buys with the alacrity and keenness of a bloodhound in heat...struggling through the hordes of fellow bargain- seekers and dealing with battalions of clueless and rude sales people (there were a few who were absolute gems though, especially those at Marks and Spencer, John Little and Borders.)

Sometimes I wonder why it is so difficult to communicate with these sales people...Do I speak with an odious lisp? No. Am I a compulsive stutterer? No. Is my tongue horrendously short? I don't think so. So why is it the people in the service industry tend to look at me as if I have a chain of Bradwurst sausages stuck down my oesophagus whenever I try to convey my retail needs? Take the following conversation for instance,

Me: Excuse me, do you have ties?

Young Sales girl (tag says "MIMI"): huh? (clueless face, looks at me as if I was from Pluto)

Me: Sorry, I am looking for ties.

MiMi: What?

Me: Ties...you know...this one? ( I gesticulate like a chimp and start putting my clasped hands around my neck- which is starting to pop veins)

MiMi: orh...sorry..out of stock. Here no-have.

Me: What? But I just saw this guy walk out of your store with two ties. Evidently, he was quite happy with his purchase because he was clutching the ties to his chest and smiling to himself.

MiMi (five second pause as this long thread of info travels across her synapses) : orh...i....see. Wait, I call the manager. ( shuffles down the aisle as she seeks someone else to help her with the tremendous burden I have placed on her frail shoulders with my unreasonable requests)

Me: No! No! No! I just need to know where you display your ties!

Too late. Five minutes later, a lugubrious and hirsute ape of heavy proportions ambled right in front of me.

"Sir, is there a problem?"

I realised that his tag just said "Manager"...No name. In my opinion, this unfortunate individual has been dehumanised and reduced to a fawning and servile automaton...What an irony...the tag was more a symbol of slavery instead of the badge of power and authority it was meant to be. I attempted to clarify the situation, but it was hard to communicate with a primate. Eventually, I managed to tell him what I wanted. Incidentally, ties were abundant in the boutique...I swear that the little store room at the back was bursting at its seams with ties...from every land and of every creed.

As I left, MiMi hit me with a snide "say-lah-I-thought-you-looking-for-dog-collar!"...I was flabbergasted and flustered and extremely provoked by the low-class and lousy parting shot...however, I felt that discretion was the better part of valour when dealing with apes and buffoons...so I tried to saunter away with whatever dignity I had left.

Apart from this debacle, there were other unsavoury misadventures involving a motley crew of bestial children (now they were the ones in need of a dog-collar) and some queue-cutting pirates...

On the whole however, I returned with a rich harvest this year, and I thoroughly the hours of retail therapy. Thanks to Stephanie for being my shopping Kaki this holiday season...I still think Coffee Club's Muddy Mud Pie beats NYDC's Irish Cream Mud...Hands down...Oh, and congrats to Michelle for getting married...It was a lovely wedding, if not for a waitress with the manners of a cave-troll...more about this miscreant later.

That's all folks! Happy Holidays to one and all! Except the Manager and MiMi...Muahaha

My mother is wrapping Xmas presents in her room...I really admire her for her love towards our family. Although she was having a really bad cold, she was willing to shop for presents for everyone...so that nobody would feel left out of the festive joy. I feel really blessed to have such a great mum. In fact, I am also learning how to wrap the prezzies...there is a small mountain of shirts, towels, ties and story-books waiting to be dressed and delivered into the grateful hands of various friends and family members.

Someday I'd love to be as patient and understanding as my Dad and as meticulous as my Mum...Looking back, I realise that I may have good qualities...but I do not think that I have inherited the defining virtues of my parents.

I got an email from Oxford regarding my application...Was admitted into Harris-Manchester College in Oxford...which disqualifies me from the Jardines Scholarship...because this scholarship is only valid if I am accepted into Oriel, Exeter or Trinity College. I am feeling quite disappointed because I tried so hard to get the place and the scholarship. Now I have a place, but no scholarship. Well, life is not always a bed of roses...I'd like to thank everyone who was so supportive and encouraging towards me while I was embarking on this crazy endeavour.

I've finally finished running the marathon....the whole 42.195 km of it. My legs are hurting so badly it is as if a horde of ravenous crocodiles are eating them.

It was really gratifying and I got very emotional towards the end...because that was when both of my legs started cramping.

I am now waiting for Jerome's phone call and hoping against hope that I don't have to book in tonight. It has been such a long and tiring week...and I am yearning for a little bit of rest before Sunday's marathon.

*Haiz* ...it seems that the dark and uninviting isle of Pulau Tekong has not changed since the last time I left its demonic shores. The mosquitoes are as pugnacious as ever...and the sandflies are just as eager to stick their horrid mandibles into the underlying layers of your epidermis.

Ironically, our habour for the whole adventure was a dank and decrepit little house in the middle of a thick morass of primary vegetation...We had voluminous cobwebs for curtains and thick veneers of dust on the floor for house rugs....The house pets were some temperamental wasps and praying mantis....yupz, no sign of any cuddly Jack Russels here. My detachment committed the unforgivable sin of not drawing safari beds...As a result, all of us had to spend three uncomfortable nights with the floor as our bed.

The exercise was fairly uneventful...but I did manage to learn a few things. Firstly, the new S3 is a super-nice officer...and secondly, 622 SIR is a horrid place to do your ICT in...

k, 'nuff said about the Tekong Ex, lest some jealous co-worker reports my name to higher authorities and I get charged for divulging SAF's secrets...haha. Actually, the best-kept secret of the SAF is a roti prata stall...but my lips are sealed and I am not going to say which camp's canteen the sacred stall is located in..haha

Went for the second round of Jardine's Scholarship Interview today...Totally burnt by the interviewers...was at a total loss when asked what aspect of the Singaporean Legal System I would like to change and why...I was being really contradictory about the things that I said and I kept on repeating my points...worse, I realise that I have the habit of stuttering when confronted by a pair of beautiful women...It was so intimidating...they were so urbane and classy that I could not help but feel small...and both of them were taller than me...The third interviewer was the matronly Miss Loh...a roly-poly kind of woman who was infinitely less intimidating than the other two.

I really hope that some wild miracle takes place and I make it to round three...Gotta close my eyes and pray very hard now...will you pray for me? More people more effective mah! hahaha