Desmond and Falling Slowly.

I was searching for videos of last night's performance, and I remembered that the americanidol website finally decided to upload the performances this year. I don't recall them doing so for previous seasons. My "did so did not did too" routine aside, the performances are on the site, and really, that's all the matters.

Plus I wanna try uploading the video, because blogging is fun like that. -HEEE! Grins uncontrollably to self-

If it works it should be between this paragraph and the one before. (Edit: Yay it does!)

Of all the performances this season, I've really enjoyed this the most. Nice, melancholic song that, as things would have it, was from an Irish film. I swear I'm not seeking nice Irishy things to like. They're seeking me out instead, and I'm falling for them like trees in the woods of Woodcutters Ville.

HEEEE!

(Edit: I just realised that the song title and my paragraph complement each other like puns. I did not intend for that but.... HEEE!)

Desmond and the Request for Change in Battery.

It's true, I am the kinda person who needs a lot of sleep. I often say, "I love me my sleep" and dear me, I do mean, "I love me my sleep".

As it is, Eight Hours sits on the fence between the two neighbours 'Satisfactory' and 'Unsatisfactory'. Ten hours is very much preferred.

Somehow, all the assignments and studying in the last few (late) nights have left such a lasting impression on me that my sleep-early wires have shorted out. All that's left is an incredibly tired energizer bunny who's begging to stop banging on those blasted drums. "Stop, stop. Take out the energizer and stuff in a duracell. MAKE IT STOP!!"

Oh boy, I need me my sleep.

Desmond and the Weather-related Catalyst.

I was studying for my paper when I found in my lecture slides, a link to this article : "London's day of innocence". It is not exactly an under-one-minute read, but I really liked it.

The article talks about how a day of snow lifts the city from its pessimism and discontentment, even if only for a day. Jeffries described Londoners to typically be economy-driven cynics who grumble of the inefficiencies of the tube, late buses and the like. Practicality and functionality edges out space for warmth and community. Seems like the London pace of life is normally so fast that it leaves no room for enjoying simple things.

(For what it's worth, I never thought London to be like that. But it sounds like our little Island huh. We, too, rush through our work day, and return home to rush some more. We crave instant gratification, "everything must happen NOW!" )

But all that changes when snow falls on the city, on a perspective-altering day in February this year.

"In London, this doesn't happen often. We trust our dour reflexive, self-poisoning moaning as a lifestyle philosophy instead. We like it that way: strangers are strange and Britain, [curse] everything about it, doesn't work. Why don't the buses run on time? Why are we so hopeless? Why can't something be done (usually by someone else who we can blame for their shortcomings)?

[But on this day] we surrendered to delight. We found better questions to ask: how do you roll a snowman? Where [in the world] are my galoshes(rubber boots, in case you were wondering ah! -Des.)? What have you done with my sledge? Can one get to work by sleigh?"

I think my lecturer meant to draw similarities between our city and London. In essence, I think this just reminds us that there is beauty to be found in our country, in spite of our cynicism towards it. London needed snow. Could we do it without? Yes, I hear you, we have no snow here to speak of anyways. But could we find something to be thankful for without first needing a weather-related catalyst? I'm sure we could. I'm sure I need to.

Desmond and Chandler's Claw.

"Former Friends star Matthew Perry was forced to seek medical attention after damaging his hand playing videogames." The actor admits he spends days on end glued to the screen playing war games on his XBox, ruining the muscles and tendons in his hand.

It's actually quite hilarious for me, because in this particular episode, "The One Where Joey Dates Rachael", there's a scene where Chandler's hand is "messed up" (in his own words) from playing 8 hours of Ms Pacman.

[Scene: Monica and Chandler's, Monica is entering to find Chandler playing Ms. Pac-Man.]

Nice going Matthew Chandler Perry Bing. I see the professional dedication.

Desmond and Good News Singapore. (With Sydney Pictures).

I realised I have no real pictures of GNS. With the crowds or during worship or the audience!! Oh well.

These past few days have been tiring. But so worth it. I have to say I miss GNS already. I walked out of the stadium reluctantly last night... certainly wasn't something I expected. It's been so long since we've done such a big event, and to be honest I've never seen so many people accepting the salvation call. (In COI, we were always backstage so I never got to see the throngs of people).

It's crazy. Good crazy. People crowded in desperation, hands thrown up in need... God's amazing. The messages were so simple, so easy to understand. And isn't that what the gospel is about anyways? Accessible by all men, for all men. No other clutter attached to God's simple truth.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life."

So many things got me thinking over the past three days. And I don't have answers for everything. But somehow seeing the good that did happen reminded me that God is good. He's seriously good. And even with the things I don't understand, I know this: I can trust in the character of God.

Aside from all the amazing things God has been doing, I think another reason I loved GNS was because the days and company, reminded me a little of Sydney and the Hillsongs conference. At the Acer Arena the entire day; then at Gloria Jeans or some hotel lobby, eating simply and sharing food. Then pretty cool music (Planet Shakers at GNS, and Hillsongs at... erm... Hillsongs) and then taking photos in a stadium.

And God's the same God in Sydney and in Singapore.

I'm sorry for the Sydney photos. But I really had nothing GNSy to post!

I can't remember who suggested taking the photo, but I do remember why we took it. Because this man was at the conference everynight, urshering us in with a huge smile. Has little to do with the fact that he was on a wheelchair, but much to do with the servanthood he displayed.

Because I have no pictures from GNS, I'll use this to thank the many people who served at GNS. From the logistics and AV crew who were there setting up, to the ushers and choir and many others who helped made the event run properly, to the consolidators and data-input people who worked through the wee hours of the morning. It's so great to see church members working well together.

Victory Family Centre.

Desmond and the Peppermint O.D.

I realised that I really hate cough syrup. They can put all the wood peppermint they want in the cure and it'll still taste horrid. Same goes for the gooey pipagao.

The past few days have been all about assignments and words and pages and sleepless nights. I don't really know how I managed all the work but somehow everything worked out. That's 4 thousand down, and 5 more to go.

But that's for another time.

Now I'm looking forward to my beauty sleep. Oh, how I love me my precious sleep!

Yippee yaya yippee yippee yay!

Desmond and the Jones Conclusion.

Newcastle to name Alan Shearer as Manager.

Woohoo!!

I don't watch much soccer. (Okay. Lying. I don't watch ANY soccer at all.) But I do have a team I support -- Newcastle. It was the first team I knew, and Alan Shearer was the guy who started it all for me. (Not like it became a huge part of my life eventually.)

The WorldCup 98' was the only time I actively watched soccer matches with my dad, and like alot of other people, I was rooting for England, and Shearer was captain then. (I could be wrong, considering I don't even remember who took the cup.)

Anyways, it's nice to see he'll be in charge of Newcastle for awhile.

On a sidenote... It dawns on you, just how old you are, when you look at pictures of your childhood heroes and realise they've aged. Indiana Jones, anybody?