Friends, The organised chaos

Victoria Chorale rocks!

We won!

Victoria Chorale is now the proud champion of the Musica Sacra a cappella category at the World Choir Games. With that win, as well as our Gold medal in the Musica Comtemporanea category, we have propelled our ranking from 80th to 18th.


And I thought the Xiamen organisers had made a mistake with the ranking, mixing up 80 with 18.

Am currently in Hangzhou, having scaled the heights of Huang Shan. That mountain is brutal, my calves are aching now as I write. But the view was gorgeous and absolutely worth the torturous climb.

We have been travelling like crazy nomads for the past two days, since leaving Xiamen two days ago. Altogether, the lot of us have taken one airplane flight, two train rides and one bus ride. Loads of mileage chalked, am thoroughly bushed.

Gotta hit the sack, till next time!

“!(img)!(Victoria Chorale with the trophy)”:

Arts & Entertainment


The competition tour starts tomorrow morning and I just have to get the flu now. Of all the blardy, crummy luck.

But well, at least my spirits are higher and I am beginning to feel excited about the trip. Let’s hope we can do well this time and I can sing my swan song in style. Hopefully, I can check back in here as often as I can for some updates.


Onward to Xiamen!

Arts & Entertainment

And the day draws near

It’s just 2 more days to my trip and strangely enough, I am not psyched up about it. It’s the Olympics, for crying out loud.

Part of my aloofness stems from the sad knowledge that Singapore just does not care enough about my art. When a dude sits in front of a computer and shoots his opponents down to win a medal at the World Cyber Games, the whole country erupted in cheers and accolades. When smart kids win medals at the International Physics Olympiad, the media splashes it all over national television and newspapers. When we won our two gold medals two years ago, we had to kick up a ruckus before anything was published.

Kudos to the National Arts Council for helping us with our funding. Any red tape was cut through as quickly as possible and we enjoyed an easy working relationship with them.

But what we need, as much as financial aid, is recognition. Recognition from Singapore that we are wearing her colours to showcase to the world the talents this tiny red dot has to offer. Recognition that choral singing, as much as acting, pop singing and visual arts, is an art in itself. Recognition of all our hard work, our sacrifice, our spent weekends and our passion.

If only our own country would give us the support we so need. How ironic that we are ranked 80th in the world (and Victoria JC choir, 8th) and seventh in the folklore category and nobody knows or cares. What is the ranking of our national football team in the world again? (Answer: 111)

I have been through two Choir Olympics and this is probably my last. The thrill of competing has waned somewhat and coupled with the hustle and bustle of working life, the fight against a very painful throat and sniffles and the disappointment in the choir’s evolution, I honestly doubt that I would feel as much in Xiamen as I did in Bremen, Germany.

But upon reading a VJChoir junior’s blog entry on their win in Italy recently, I felt a sense of nostalgia. This is what singing and competing is all about – the wonder, the adrenaline, the euphoria. This was how I had felt when I was 18 and in Germany for my first ever international competition, how I had felt when we went to Linz, Austria for the inaugural Choir Olympics and how I had felt during Bremen two years ago.

Can I replicate that again?

Health Goddess

Almost famous

I’m pooped.

I actually went for three classes – Bodybalance, Bodypump and Bodycombat – in a row last night at One George Street. That’s 2.5 hours of exercise in one night. Sheer madness. And that’s despite the sniffles and inflamed throat I was nursing since morning.

But oddly enough, I am fine, there aren’t muscles screaming in pain except for a little twinge in my thighs (those bloody lunges with weights on your shoulders can kill) and said shoulders. I had decided to stop after 45 minutes of combat because it was just useless. I couldn’t really do the roundhouse or back kicks properly and my arms were just flailing aimlessly in the air. I stopped, listened to my body creak and whine, and went for a nice hot shower before heading home for a night of snug rest.

Trivial: I was actually one of few (or many, who knows?) girls who were shortlisted for an endorsement deal with a very famous sporting gear company. They had called me up early last month for a chat and said they would get back to me but they never did. Which is totally fine because I know I am not exactly the most prolific or popular blogger who writes about sports around town. Besides, I don’t generate comments and hits as the chosen one does, so no complaints there. But well, it sure doesn’t hurt my pride, whee.

There, my very short-lived brush with fame. And free gear (my greatest sorrow).

Anyway, I have decided that my Saturdays post-Chorale will be fun and sun-drenched. I aim to master blading by this year, and also to conquer my fear of cycling. It’s strange, I know, but ever since I plowed straight into a tree trunk while on four wheels when I was a wee kiddie, I have been fearful of cycling since. Straight lines are fine but I get jittery when turning and on slopes.


But hey, I have signed up for both the Great Eastern and Standard Chartered runs so I think I am a pint-sized dynamo still.

Who you calling wuss?

[Above post has been edited at request of a friend who wishes to remain anonymous]

[Let’s play tag! , , , , ]

Health Goddess, Little Miss Shopaholic

Sporty shopaholic

Gotta. Stop. Buying. Them. Ticky. Gym. Wear.

“!(img)!(Too pretty, too many)”:

I have enough to last me for a month and more.
That’s all the sporty gear I am going to buy for the rest of this year. And the next.

Anyway, since I wasn’t registered for the Shape Run, there’s always the Great Eastern Women 10K Run on October 29 to contemplate. Sounds like fun and it’s always nice to run with girls, with the dudes flinging pom-poms up in the air to cheer us on (let’s assume for a moment that they are willing to get up at 7.30am to support their girls). Then, there is the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon coming up on December 3.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through the whole freezing trauma of last year again but when the invite came through the mailbox challenging me to better my previous time, when I saw the Standard Chartered advertisement featuring the blind marathon runner and his running guide, I couldn’t contain the competitive streak in me. Hell, I am going to run again and if that’s not enough, I am going to be a better runner than before. Haiiiiyak!

Arts & Entertainment

Coldplay Twisted Logic concert


Many, many moons after Coldplay visited our hot and sunny shores together with Travis, they finally came back again to give an awesome, unbelievable and fantabulous concert.

As they dished out hit after hit, the crowds were lapping it up like camels drinking on a hot day. Okay, bad analogy but you get the drift.

Chris Martin has definitely evolved into a consummate performer, as compared to his previous outing. Then, he was mostly seated behind his piano and mumbling to himself, not unlike how Jay Chou used to be. Last night, he was full of energy, jumping like a crazed monkey on the stage and stumbling around like a drunkard.

He said little, other than the occasion “how are you guys?”, and the rest of the band said little. But it did not matter. Their chemistry was tight, the show flowed smoothly and with no hiccups and the band complemented Martin’s falsetto voice perfectly.

When he burst into perennial favourite “Yellow”, the crowd went mad and it was just amazing seeing all the hands and heads bobbing up and down in exuberance. And all of a sudden, huge balloons floated down and the crowd went crazy. It was such a surreal moment and we were all lost in the heat of it.

There were no pyrotechnics, no lush sets and no gorgeous costume changes, just four lads from England jamming in front of a full house. It felt intimate and cosy, almost as if we were just sitting across them in a pub and not in some nosebleed inducing seats at the Singapore Indoor Stadium. The strobe lights and laser displays more than made up for the sparse set.

An hour after they burst onto the screen, Martin said his thanks and goodbyes, leaving behind an arena full of disappointed and disbelieving fans. Thankfully, after much clapping, cheering and chanting, they jumped back onto the stage again and launched into “In My Place”.

As they played, my heart sank further and further, wondering if they would ever play the song that had touched me ever since I first heard it on The O.C a year ago. And they did not disappoint. Martin sat at the grand piano and sang “Fix You” with his heart and soul as the stadium erupted into cheers and sang along.

I stood there, singing out loud with tears in my eyes, with everything that I had ever associated with that song floating in my mind. And then the concert was over and we were left with beautiful memories of Coldplay’s brilliant performance.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

More photos here.

[Let’s play tag! , , ]


And the Squirt becomes a missus

Oddly enough, out of the three of us crazies, the Squirt is going to be the first to walk down the aisle with her (s)Melly!

Last week, she couldn’t contain her delight as she buzzed me over MSN to share the news, as well as a barrage of information about what she wants her gown to be like, what Mel would be wearing, where they would be staying after the wedding and where the dinner would be held. She also commanded me and Popartgirl to be part-time wedding planners.

Tsk tsk, such a tyrannical squirt.

Anyway, in celebration of her upcoming nuptials, here is a trip down memory lane of our lives during those sordid university years. Without the two of them, my life would have been miserable. They were there for me when I cried and shared all those silly moments with me.

I love you two! *sniffs *

Three Mad Piggies

Health Goddess

Pump it up!

So as I sit here in front of the computer, trying my best to keep my eyelids from closing, I marvel at the fact that my body is perfectly free from aches and pains. I sit without wincing, walk without wincing and laugh without wincing.

And this is after spending two hours at the gym, the first in Bodybalance class and the second in Bodypump.

Balance was my subsitute for yoga, now that I can’t make it for my favourite afternoon class at Paragon. It felt good to be stretching my stressed up limbs although I couldn’t help but wish I was at yoga instead. Balance is too mild somehow while yoga can be pleasantly torturous. Midway through an asana, I would wonder if I was crazy and yet after that, my body would feel happy, relaxed and warm all over. Bliss.

After that was another hour of pushing the body’s boundaries – Bodypump. The sista, who took the class, is mad. That pint-sized woman’s bar was stacked with BIG weights. And even though I was basically wussing it out, my arm and leg muscles were protesting madly (those lunges can kill). My non-existent triceps are now starting to make guest appearances and I hold out hope that they can be permanent dwellers one day.

I’m quite proud of myself, actually. This year alone, I have tried many different classes by myself and am still sticking with them. Next up would be the Nike Rockstar Workout.

The new Bollywood dance coming up sounds fun but I wonder if I dare to try it, as uncoordinated and klutzy as I am. Hmm.


I heart these Nikewomen ads!

Arts & Entertainment, Health Goddess

Goodbye, England’s thorns


And so it goes that the so-called golden team of England was unceremoniously dumped out of the World Cup by a meandering, play-acting and diving team of Portugal.

Did they deserve it?
Probably. They played atrociously, have played atrociously, and under the stifling hand of Sven Goran Eriksson, were terribly dull and lacklustre. One would have expected some sparks and wit of splendid players such as Steven Gerrard, John Terry and Frank Lampard but there were none forthcoming.

Perhaps, the critics were right. English players are brilliant at club level but stink on the international arena. They just aren’t world class material.

rooney_red card

Was this the moment that England’s fortunes went even further downhill than was expected? I did not think Rooney deserved the card, especially since it didn’t seem like he was stamping on Carvelho, but who knows?

Whatever it is, England has been tried and tested and proven wanting. And it ends like this.