okay so now I'm officially halfway through exams after Polsci 140 today! Thanks for your prayers (You know who you are. You don't know how much the constant support means to me.) A short take on how the exam went- it was a two-hour long paper, but people were allowed to leave once one hour was up if they'd finished. For the life of me I can't fathom how so many people left after an hour, because I spent an hour and forty-five minutes on the paper, and when I looked up from my last essay I realized that there was scarcely anyone left in the auditorium (which had been almost fully occupied at the beginning of the exam). Of course only the conscientious people stayed till the very end. Hahaha. Anyway, I felt that the paper was possibly the best exam I'd ever sat for- honestly, I had a most enjoyable time answering all the questions and I don't think I could have prepared for it any better than I already had. Only that it was slightly disconcerting when I realized that half an hour into the exam, some people had already started on their long essay (the final component) while I was still in the midst of my compare-and-contrast-political-terms component. I'm really glad I took this class- Introduction to Comparative Politics- in fact, when I first registered for classes I chose Polsci 101 (Introduction to Political Theory), only to realize that, 1. the final exam for the class fell during the exact same time slot as my Great Books final, and I wouldn't be able to take that lest I had a Time-Turner, and 2. Political Theory was unbelievably boring- full of Socratic musings and ancient writings and things I had absolutely no interest in whatever. So I switched to Polsci 140 and from the looks of it I think it was a good decision. It even might be the field of political science I eventually end up majoring in.

Anyway for those of you who want me to order things online and've only just informed me- I'm sorry but I don't think the items you plan to order will arrive in time for me to be able to bring them back, because shipping during the holiday season (especially Christmas time) is insane and there isn't a hope of them arriving by next Wednesday latest. So maybe next time lah. Let me know earlier or something. But if you want food or items that I can procure easily (AND CHEAPLY) then you can try to let me know, but of course I have a selective memory when it comes to such issues- so if I don't oblige you please don't be too offended. (Just pretend I forgot. Even though I most probably didn't. Hahaha.)

And I know Michigan merchandise is awesome (here's a little bit of trivia- the Michigan 'M' is the best-selling and most-recognized college icon in the USA-- Ha I wonder what happened to the prestige of the Ivies? Who even knows (or cares, for that matter), what the Harvard badge looks like? Or the Yale one? Hmmmm?) but it's sort of expensive especially when you take into consideration the exchange rate so please lah, don't be too demanding okay? Thanks. Of course, if you want a Michigan Crew shirt, reason being that you are my No. 1 fan, I'll be more than happy to oblige you and you can even have an autographed photo of me. Otherwise, forget it. Hahaha.

Today marked the last day of classes for the Fall 2005 term, as well as the final day of organized crew practice (well, until we return from winter break. It's nowhere near over yet. Hahaha). My legs were stubbornly uncooperative today, probably owing to the thrashing I gave them yesterday, what with the Romanian deadlifts and Bulgarian squats (I have a fetish for Russian-themed exercises), and seeing that it was 7.5km Medley day, I realized it probably hadn't been an exceptionally brilliant idea to have done all those yesterday. Enough about practice. After practice we traipsed down to Candace's (one of our assistant coaches, a fourth-year senior, I think) place for soups in bread bowls kindly sponsored by our coach, salads, hummus, guacamole, and a range of delectable desserts. I didn't stay for long though, returned to South Quad around 7pm and the relative isolation of my room. It's nice to be in a quiet place sometimes. My teammates are so noisy it's funny. There's a girl called Britta- she's awesome, just that in her friend's words, she has "personality enough for SIX people". Which is perhaps a true measure of her... well, Presence. Once I was at the basement of South Quad and heard a familiar voice thundering from four floors up. Sure enough, it was Britta. When she opens her mouth to speak at the dinner table in the cafeteria, everyone within a ten-meter radius instinctively turns to look at her. That girl is fantastic. Hahaha.

Anthropology final today was pretty uneventful, considering that I finished studying for it on Saturday. One down, three more to go- the next is Political Science on Friday. I'm about halfway done with revision for polsci, and having quite a bit of fun with it since it's a really interesting subject and a class I'm entirely glad I took this semester. Anyway you guys back home- if you have anything you'd like me to possibly procure for you, do let me know. Sam, I remember your jellybellies so don't worry about that. And please remember that after all I am still a poor student studying in a foreign land and not very rich in any sense of the word so please do not ply me with extravagant requests. On the same note, baggage space is limited, so moderation in both aspects will be very much appreciated.

I'm sorry for the post below- of late I've been blogging about pretty cheery things or issues that revolve around decidedly benign topics like school or rowing or life in general. But sometimes it just hits me like a sack of bricks and there I go all over again. Whatever man.

Every so often your MSN icon pops up on my screen and I can barely restrain myself from letting my fingers run over the touchpad, towards the link that I wish would lead me to you. Sometimes I can't help myself and in doing so it opens up a window- in more ways than one, a window of possibilities, that could have been, that might never be. And it's always the same- a blank window, me racking my brain to think of something new I could possibly use to strike up a conversation, always wishing that you'd talk to me again, feeling almost as though I'd give anything for that to happen. But I've resigned myself to the inescapable reality that you'll never be the one who initiates the conversation, it's as though I've faded from your life into nothingness, almost like I never was there in the first place. Sometimes I do manage to weakly tap out an abstract sentence or two- perhaps something like how's it going or how have you been or a similarly meagre attempt at striking up a semblance of a conversation. And then I wait with bated breath for your response; sometimes it never comes, which I'm almost glad of; because when (if) it comes, it's something largely monosyllabic- a terse response, a non-committal answer, something that arises out of obligation. And when that happens, as I know it always will, I'll reply with a superficially cheery answer or a response that tries its best to be enthusiastic- and that'd be the end of it till the next time that familiar icon pops up on my screen and wreaks havoc in my heart all over again.

And I think to myself, hah that's funny, where did the letters and the phone calls and the emails go to?

Then, I remember that we never had those in the first place.

***
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

--Neil Gaiman
***

Sometimes I wonder- how did we ever fall so far?

***
Cynical, jaded, faithless, disappointed, disillusioned, used
If I could take back all my sweat, my tears, my sex, my joy
I would
My time, my love, my effort, passion, dedication
In case of mistaken identity I gave these things to you
If I sound angry, bitter, sad, infatuated,
It's the truth
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, just a few
Stages of acceptance that it's really over
It's just so complicated and
I'm stupid for believing in you

I had your back, I held you up,
I told you you were good enough
It was not reciprocated,
You kept affection and yourself apart
You fed your love to me
Like crumbs to pigeons in the park
Sometimes I think you're satisfied
To see me begging like a dog
I wasn't armoured, you were king,
I gave my everything
Because sometimes you showed me
Just a hint of you and then
For just a moment I romanticised the notion
I can take away the torment,
I can love you like they never did

***
Darren Hayes :: Unlovable

Bloody hell. Why do I still love you?

HAHAHA sorry lah very hungry can? LOL!

We played basketball for yesterday's cross-training session in the afternoon; it was exhilaratingly fun, especially after not having played a proper game in such a long time. And my teammates are pretty good basketball players, a couple of them played for varsity in high school- one or two'd be ready to take on the guys any time- and even those that weren't on the basketball team back in school, they were still good! It's a far cry from back home where precious few girls (excepting the basketballers) can actually play basketball with some semblance of the real thing. On the whole, it was a fantastic workout and a great game and a much-appreciated respite from erging.

Anyway I just spent my entire Thursday night doing absolutely nothing and my finals start next week so perhaps I should begin worrying now. Okay whatever lah I'll make sure I mug anthropology real hard tomorrow to make up for it. Gotta chiong like mad already! (Speaking of chionging, it's pretty funny how I have to resist the temptation to use words like these when talking to my American friends, especially my teammates. Like you know how we always used to use "chiong" in canoeing, for instance when Jiao4 Lian4 gives us 8 x 500m pieces at, say, 80% intensity, then we'll go "let's chiong the last 500m!" or something to that effect. So the other day I was on the erg between pieces and I was talking to one of my teammates, I can't remember who, but she was on the erg besides mine. And the program that particular day was short but painfully intense. I think we were almost done, probably at the last couple of sets, so during the rest period I turned to her and said "Good job! Now we just gotta chion--, errr, I mean, now we've just got to pull really hard for the last few minutes!" Good thing I didn't say "chiong"; I think it's a word that'll probably sound strangely awkward and jarring to American ears. Hahaha.)

The other day as I was walking to practice with Jay Chou's Ye Qu plugged into my ears, my coach happened to pop out of her office and she went "What are you listening to?" Well I couldn't very possibly tell her Jay Chou, since she'd have no inkling who he was anyway, so I just replied "Chinese music". (Makes it sound like I'm listening to classical Chinese opera or something of that sort). So now apparently I've been delegated the task of making an "Asian Music Mix" for erging to. My goodness. If anyone's got any fast-paced or remotely energetic Asian songs, please send them to me. For the life of me, I can barely think of any. Haha.

Bloody hell the South Quad fire alarm went off just as I finished the above paragraph and so I've just returned from my sojourn downstairs clad in my sleeping pants, t-shirt and jacket. And it didn't go off as the result of a fire drill or anything remotely legitimate- it went off to signal the start of the annual Snowball Fight between South and West Quad (it's an event that takes place during the first heavy snowfall of winter, where the residents of both dorms will congregate in the piercing cold and hurl snowballs, or, if you're slightly deranged and sadistic, lumps of ice, at each other across the street). Gah! I debated staying in my room but decided against it because I somehow know that the one time I remain in my room in deliberate ignorance of a fire alarm will be the one time it's a genuine alarm. So I went downstairs and mooshed around in the snow a bit and found Michela who was similarly pissed by the whole affair since she'd been asleep since 10.30pm. We crept back into South Quad after the alarmingly obese security officers switched the alarm off and so here I am typing this when the rest of my dorm is out mucking about in the snow and generally getting wet and soggy. As you can probably tell, I'm not much of a fan when it comes to snow. I much prefer sleep, thank you very much. Aiiight it's time for bed now.

phoooooooey my GTBOOKS paper is killing me! I'm caught in that odd sort of situation where you've got a ton of ideas yet nothing to say at the very same time, which is a distinctly uncomfortable place to be in right now. Those of you who like tragedy and lots of gloom, the play The Medea will probably be your cup of tea. I'll take a brief moment to give you a better idea of what it's about. It isn't boring, I promise.

It involves a jilted woman (Medea), her children, a Golden Fleece, the woman's gormless husband (Jason) and a young princess (Glauce) he intends to marry after the divorce is finalized, the princess' father (Creon), a visiting king who happens to be infertile (Aegeus), and of course the obligatory Chorus which is made up of a dozen or so women who don't really do anything of much significance besides bursting abruptly into song at the most unexpected of intervals. Anyway so Medea is jilted by Jason even after she's helped him gain the Golden Fleece (I really don't see the beauty of a Golden Fleece, but apparently some people like that sort of thing) and gone through all sorts of trials and tribulations. And she's a really vengeful woman, you see, so she plots to kill her children (so they can't carry on the patriarchal line) as well as the lovely young thing her husband has deserted her for. But she has a problem- she doesn't know where to seek asylum after carrying out her grisly mission. Suddenly, however, Aegeus appears out of nowhere (bad move here, Euripides- it's the equivalent of ending your story with waking from a dream when you can't think of an alternative plausible ending) and Medea promises him drugs to cure his infertility in return for her seeking asylum in Athens. So he agrees, and she is happy, and off she goes to kill everyone. And her creativity in murder is laudable- she has her children carry gifts of a diadem and a dress to Glauce, so that nothing is suspect. Glauce gleefully dons the diadem and dress (Ooohh! Clothes for my wedding! How nice!) and sashays up and down along the length of the hall. But all of a sudden she starts frothing at the mouth and her skin starts peeling off, and... I can't begin to describe it, but essentially it's not a pretty sight. Oh no it isn't. And Creon has absolutely no idea what's happening and rushes to save her and in the process the poison welds him to her as well and they die in the most tragic of embraces. And after that Medea kills her children and Jason rushes out but it's far too late for him to do anything- she's already hovering ten feet above him in the air in- get this, a chariot drawn by dragons- and she gives a tinkling laugh, waves goodbye to him with the most merry of expressions, and gallops away.

So you sort of get the idea. I can just see Euripides starting to slowly rotate in his grave at my retelling of his beloved play, but whatever. Anyway below are the opening two paragraphs of my essay. I've got to get back to finishing this paper now. Enjoy!

***
Moral ambiguity is a hallmark of Greek tragedy, and Euripides leaves the audience to ponder the dilemma between rationality and reason as explored in The Medea. The main character of the play, Medea, is entirely antithetical to the ancient Greek ideal of the heroic protagonist; she is female, a sorceress, and a foreigner, all of which are characteristics that work towards creating a perception of her which is inadvertently clouded by traditional bias. She synthesizes the traits that typically characterize passion and reason, in the process defying stereotypes and evoking dilemma. By transcending the rational through allowing her actions to be guided by base emotions, she reacquaints the audience with the harsh, inescapable realities of human violence. The fundamental question that Euripides evokes through the complex portrayal of Medea and her motivations stem from the correlation between sympathy for her and condemnation of her actions, culminating in the creation of dilemma- just exactly what measure of her deeds can be attributed to logical reason and thus lawfully condoned?

Euripides masterfully exploits a trick of the sophistic movement by evoking conflicting sentiments in the audience concerning Medea’s actions. Initially, the audience is inclined to sympathize with her over the blatant injustice she has been dealt by Jason, and also because she is subject to marginalization due to her position in society. However, as the play progresses, the audience is gradually introduced to the darker, horrific realities of the situation; where Medea’s deeds can no longer be attributed purely to the irrationality caused by the accompanying emotional upheaval following Jason’s actions. Rather, they are borne out of her macabre, vengeful desire for retribution that is only assuaged upon the massacre of Creon, Glauce, and perhaps most disturbing of all, her children. Herein lies the inherent ambiguity which obscures the play; the fine line between condoning and condemning actions borne out of emotion is increasingly difficult to define as the plot unfolds. At the very end of the play, amidst the fading reverberations of horror, the audience is forced to contemplate the rationale behind Medea’s deed and whether the wrongs dealt to her were deserving of the gruesome recourse she unleashed in her fury. The audience is gradually subsumed into the swirling morass of retribution as the plot progresses, swayed by the cunning ingenuity and conviction of Medea; only waking to the unpleasant realization at the end that perhaps the boundaries for justice have been trespassed.
***

wow damn shagged today, and lots of things to do by the end of the week to boot. my last great books 191 paper- it's far more difficult to get this one done (and by done, i mean with standard) than the previous one, perhaps because my expectations are relatively high following the A+ on that paper which was not entirely unexpected (because i worked for it, you limeys) HAHA. My brain is full of random ideas but i've to take the time to sieve them through and it's not happening yet. and i've got a German roleplay on thursday and lines to dutifully memorize for my part, which is also nowhere near happening yet. and for crew practice today we had a forty-minute continuous swing row which is probably the worst sort of practice you can hit me with. it's bloody boring and i can't help but to be acutely aware of the clock ticking down on my ergometer. isn't it fascinating how it takes no effort at all to space out in class, but on the ergometer every second drags by like it's attached to a lead weight? the good thing about today is that i registered for my classes next semester- so i'll be taking German 102, Great Books 192, Communications 101 and Comm Lab 111, as well as Political Science 160. i'm pretty pleased with my schedule (although its 17 credits) so that works out fine. okay sorry i just had to rant a little about my busy busy life, i suppose i'm ok now. hahaha not quite, but almost!

It's been a long day but it's finally winding to an end, but of course that similarly implies that half my weekend is gone, which isn't a very pretty thought either. As typically expected, I proceeded to pummel myself in the morning with an erg workout at 8.30am, followed by weights at the CCRB at 10, and finishing it off with a 7-mile run at the Nichols Arb with Heidi (one of my teammates). It's the first time I've been to the Arb- for those of you unacquainted with U-M terminology, Arb is short for the Nichols Arboretum, a beautiful expanse of rolling hills and breathtaking scenery flanking the Huron River; in the heart of Ann Arbor, and very much a part of the college campus. After the run, we went for lunch at Stockwell where she stays, and feasted on Cream of Wheat (Cream of Wheat is the next best thing to oatmeal, I assure you) and had an altogether splendid time since we are both large fans of those two foods. Anyway after that I went back to my room and spent four hours agonizing over my polsci paper- but I've finally managed to get it out of the way and I hope I get a decent grade for that. Looking forward to dinner with Julie at the Real Seafood Co. along Main Street tomorrow- it's been eons since I had a decent slab of fish; the fish here is either overcooked, dry and flaky, or there simply isn't any to subject to such harsh cooking methods at all. It's going to be quite expensive but I guess it'll be worth it! Finals are coming up in a matter of days- exactly ten days to my first final, which is Anthropology. Oh well, honestly I'm not too worried about the exams, which is somewhat strange since I've always been a bundle of nerves when it comes to final exams. Hopefully that bodes well for my grades!

HEY Y'ALL! OMG can't believe how long it's been since we last met- and yes, porn star (2nd from right, for the uninformed), I miss you so! :)

My hair is in dire need of assistance! Gah. Well, I suppose I can wait a little while longer. Haha. It's been dreadfully uncooperative recently- either it's pancake-flat against my head, or it stands up in a thousand directions at once, both of which are mildly disturbing especially when I wake up in the morning and have more pressing things to do besides fussing over my hair, like getting to practice on time.

The snow has started falling again- it started this afternoon, just when one of my teammates and I were returning from our 6.5 mile run for cross-training today. I know it probably strikes you as insane that we'd choose to run outside in sub-zero temperatures; but actually it's a blast. It was a great run and definitely a nice change from erging (since when do we ever do anything else besides erging). I'd initially planned on nailing my back with lifting today, but for some reason my back was shot today, and anyway we have team lifting sessions on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, so I figured I'd take a day off. Gotta listen to my body sometimes, I've discovered! It's so hard to find a happy medium between pushing yourself hard and overtraining. You've got to be careful not to overtrain.

This has been a pretty busy week for me, so I'm glad it's finally over (well, almost)! At least classes are done for the week, so now all that's left is the final draft of my anthropology paper which is due tomorrow, the argument-evidence page (you know how much I detest doing outlines for essays- I'd much rather just knock something out straightaway instead of doing a detailed plan. But whatever, as long as it helps me get a better grade in the end! I've got an 8-10 page political science paper due Monday as well, so I believe that's what tomorrow and perhaps a little of tonight will be primarily devoted to.

And to top it all off with the proverbial cherry on top, our coach wants us to finish our week off with a bang; which means that it's a Level 1 workout tomorrow, which is absolutely awesome/ awful, depending on how you want to look at it. Philip, if you're reading this (I know you are, you gym freak, haha), this might be really useful to incorporate into your program. This is the definition of a Level 1 workout: Level 1 workouts are the backbone of our training. These workouts are performed at intensities of 95-105% of competitive 2k pace. They are extremely demanding (pfffffft! Understatement of the Century!) and require significant recovery to realize their full benefits. Thus, we will only perform Level 1 workouts once a week/ once every other week. The basic format is to row short intervals with active recovery (vs. passive recovery= complete inactivity). Typical Level 1 workouts include 8 x 500m; 4 x 1k.

Tomorrow's workout is 4 x 1k on 10 minute centers @ 2k pace; which essentially means that we're given a total of 10 minutes to row a 1km piece at our 2k pace, and take the remainder of whatever time's left to recover actively (which often means just tugging half-heartedly at the chain since you're already rather bushed from the earlier sprint), and you repeat this 3 more times. It doesn't seem all that bad when you think about it now, because it's only 4km, which is really short compared to the mileage we normally clock per erg session (around 12km or so every afternoon practice), so inclusive of warmup (which I estimate will be around 20 minutes ~ 4km), it'll be only 8km for tomorrow. But 8km at 2k pace is insane- my 2k split is 2:01min/500m. I hope I don't turn a startling shade of blue from the duress of tomorrow's workout. No wonder my coach adds a cryptic "ROW BLUE" at the end of some of the training material she gives us. I should've known it implied something more than just a display of school loyalty through the college colors.

Well, folks, if you need some inspiration, read the words in the picture below. It's a portion of a handout titled "Introduction to Novice Training Plan", given to us by our coach. This specific part is called "Qualities of a Champion". Doesn't the title alone psyche you up? Haha! This is the quintessential guide to Clean Living! And when I say Clean Living, I don't mean living in a state of depravity either- though life right now personally demands a lot from me, sometimes almost more than what I'd readily give, it's the rewards in the end, the ultimate outcome, that makes everything worthwhile. So there you go.



(and did you notice the "ROW BLUE" at the end?) -groan-

Thanksgiving was awesome, as you can see from the sumptuous spread of food on the dining table. And that most definitely wasn't all; there was more (just that it's not in the picture), together with FOUR kinds of dessert- bourbon-orange pecan pie with bourbon whipped cream, sweet potato and coconut cheesecake, chocolate torte, and of course pumpkin pie. Enough to make even a person with a cloyingly sweet tooth pass out from an overdose of sugar. But it was a great experience, and I did have a good deal of fun. Oh by the way, as you can tell from the picture, my hair is absolutely awful! I need to do something about it soon. Been wearing a beanie in a desperate bid to conceal the disaster that is atop my head.

I met Thomas in the gym just now- he was there making penance for the sins of the previous four days. Apparently, he'd been to New York over Thanksgiving break, with a couple of the other UMich freshmen; where they (over)indulged in a wild shopping and eating frenzy. He related to me, with great relish, how they had "three breakfasts and three lunches and three dinners" each day, and proceeded to tell me where they went, but was promptly arrested by guilt in mid-speech and left me hanging abruptly by the calf raise machine for the bench press station to knock out a couple of reps in atonement.

Anyway so the fun is over (at least for the next three to four weeks or so), and it's back to humdrum campus life. Everyone's gearing up for finals which begin on 15 Dec and last all the way through to 22 Dec, before Fall term is officially over and we have another brief respite (Winter break!). U-M has one of the shortest winter breaks ever- it lasts all of one-and-a-half weeks, which is something I'm rather indignant about. Granted, we have another ten days off during spring break in end-February, but who's going to go anywhere then? They might as well give us a longer winter break and be done with it. Just about the only good thing is that we end school by the end of April, so that means I'll be able to return to Singapore pretty early for summer vacation. (And revert back to being a soldier with camo cream and the works, for all of ten weeks at the very least).

Thanksgiving is akin to what we call Chinese New Year back in Singapore- two (or so) days filled with visiting family and friends, trips in the car down to the houses of different relatives, partaking of the smorgasbord of goodies each of the houses possesses, watching tv, playing card games- except that of course there isn't any hongbao to look forward to during Thanksgiving, which is definitely an extremely integral part of Chinese New Year. So the last two days I've basically been doing all of that stuff as an honorary member of Alex's family (or you could say, a piece of deadwood who tags along with them to their relatives' houses and gleefully indulges in the food and sprawls on the luxury of the carpeted floor until it's time to go home). We visited Alex's uncle's house yesterday which was simply amazing- a pretty new place, the decor was breathtaking; it's everything the dream American house could be. Large but not too sparse, a beautiful kitchen with the countertops you see in movies, a brick fireplace, a basement with a pool table, bar counter, rocking chairs, another fireplace, a large tv- and of course wonderful bathrooms. I don't know why, but the bathrooms were particularly intriguing. They were lovely.

So far this break has been a great one just to relax and unwind- we watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire at the Michigan Theater (there's a Michigan Theater in South Haven as well). Tickets were unbelievably cheap- just $3.50 per person, and I must say that the theater wasn't too shoddy either. I think we're going to a fabulous Mexican place for lunch today, and perhaps go down to the pier for a walk (South Haven is located on the opposite side of Lake Michigan from Chicago, although the lake is so large that you can't see across it; it's just a vast expanse which should be called an ocean instead), and maybe ice-skate in the evening again (Ted, you're not a loser, don't worry- we'll go to Yost or something when I get back!). Haven't been to a gym in two days, but I've been doing circuits in the morning in my tiny room- well okay not really circuits, but like 4 sets of 30 tricep pushups and 30 standard pushups- and then 4 sets of 20 dips and wide hand pushups, and squats and all that stuff, so I hope I'm not in too bad shape by the time I get back. Anyway I've reasoned to myself that 3 days off can't be a bad thing especially since I've done enough shit to my body in the past week (on Monday I lifted weights in the wee hours of the morning, erged during lunch, and erged again before dinner- about 20km of erging total that day), so I probably need to recuperate right? Right. Okay whatever. Haha back to my political science now! I've got an insane amount of work due next week and the week after- phooey. Brought many books to Alex's place- managed to get quite a bit done, which is pretty good. Blog sometime soon!

It's Friday morning now, the day after Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving yesterday was pretty eventful- filled with conviviality, fun, and of course loads of good food. I must say the Klugs are terribly gifted when it comes to culinary prowess- the Thanksgiving dinner was basically amazing. But luckily I exercised a degree of self-control that amazed even myself, and hopefully I can hang on for two more days without succumbing to the temptations of overconsumption. Went ice-skating for the very first time (okay I'm such a loser, I know) on Friday night, and it was a blast. Haven't fallen yet, for that matter, which was pretty good. Haha. Okay I'll be back sometime soon! Enjoy yourselves everyone.

A view from the window of my room in South Quad.

Ann Arbor's covered in about two inches of snow today- the most snow I've seen since I've been here, and I'm pretty sure there's more to come- what a way to usher in Thanksgiving! Just about everyone's leaving the University for winter break; some are flying back to their hometowns, most have been dragging their suitcases downstairs in eager anticipation for their parents to pick them up for the long ride home. For me I'll be leaving for South Haven (a small town in Michigan, 2 1/2 hours away from Ann Arbor)- as I'll be spending Thanksgiving all the way till Sunday with one of my teammates from crew and her family, Alex. As a matter of fact I'll be leaving in a couple of minutes, so I just wanted to rush this post out to let you guys know that all's going well over here. Thanksgiving is such a big occasion here, I'm fortunate to be able to experience a traditional celebration with an American family. Alex has made big plans for the next couple of days- they include making me fatter than I already am with tempting Thanksgiving edibles (Oh dear.), ice-skating on the lake if it's frozen over, horse-riding (she owns 2 horses), learning how to throw an American football (I'm really looking forward to this). And for me I'm going to make sure we get our circuit workouts and cardio in (to prevent ballooning to obscene extremes and so that we don't die when we clumsily waddle back onto the ergs on Monday practice). Okay I've got to run now- take care everyone, and have yourself a great Thanksgiving as well! Just take a moment to stop and think about the things we should be thankful for- personally, I know I've got plenty to be grateful for. Alright I'll blog sometime soon!

Hey I know many of you guys are probably up to your ears in mugging, in particular because it's the exam period for most universities now. So read this if you're feeling somewhat peckish and/or have a fetish for food that makes you moan with pleasure (you'll get what I mean when you click on that link). It's a pretty good diversion. Anyway that site is awesome, go back and check it out more if you've the time. I wish I could start a blog like that but in doing so I'd probably just end up ridiculously poor and disgustingly oversized so I don't believe I'll give it a try. Haha.

Despite the frosty weather and biting cold, I'll be making the trek down State Street, and then a right on East Hoover- together with the throngs of Michigan fans who, like me, are heading down to the Big House to witness what perhaps is the most anticipated matchup in college football- Michigan vs. Ohio State. I didn't think I'd be able to get a decently-priced ticket to the game, seeing that it's the most hyped game in the Big Ten, due to the fact that it showcases one of the longest-standing and most intense rivalries between two of the country's top footballing programs. It'll be broadcast nationwide on both ABC and ESPN, because it's just about the most important event happening this Saturday. But thankfully, somehow I found another Singaporean who was selling his ticket and I manged to get it for a pretty good price considering what others are generally selling theirs at (around USD$80-$100, if you're wondering). This will be only my second time attending a football game- the first was against Northern Illinois, which pales drastically in comparison to the clash of the titans that I'll be fortunate to witness tomorrow. It's time to Blue Out!

Here's the message that's been circulating throughout campus thanks primarily to facebook.com:
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On Saturday, in addition to wearing all BLUE, bring some loose change and an unopened water bottle into the Stadium. "Clear, sealed, plastic water bottles" are specifically permitted items. Once inside, drink the water (it's good for you), put the coins in the bottle, and cap the bottle. On EVERY single Ohio State offensive possession, shake the bottle like crazy with 20,000 other students to create the loudest Big House environment in history! Collectively, we can and will affect the outcome of this game.

With the nation's collective attention focused on Ann Arbor, Michigan, this weekend- we have the opportunity to showcase the extremely positive experience we know and love as MICHIGAN FOOTBALL SATURDAYS. Let's do so with the respect and class that we often say characterizes our fine institution. Wake up early. Dress in ALL BLUE. Congregate in anticipation. Arrive at the game early. Hold on to your bottle for the entire game (no ND repeats) and shake it like crazy. Cheer, rattle, and Hail loudly the entire game. Celebrate!

HAIL TO THE VICTORS!

GO BLUE!
***

What can I blog about today? I don't know. Today marked the start of Winter practice proper- which I know is going to be one of the hardest things I've ever been through in my life. I hope I'm ready for it. Erg practice was disappointing this afternoon- I know by relative standards I probably don't have a reason to feel that way, but this time it's so much more than just splits or times or anything that can be logically measured. It's about the threshold of pain and tolerance and mental tenacity.

We were given a Level One workout to do today (A Level One workout is a workout that's performed at intensities of 95%-105% of competitive 2k pace, so, as expected, they are extremely demanding and require significant recovery to realize their full benefits)- in essence, it's interval training; extremely high intensities over short distances, with very short rest periods, usually roughly equal to the time you take to pull the distance. The workout comprised 8 x 500m at a split approximately 10 seconds below our split for the latest 6k trial we did, which would mean that my split for the 500m pieces would have to be around a 2:01min/500m.

First five pieces went pretty well- my times ranged from between 1:56 to 1:59 per 500m piece. But the last three pieces were plainly awful, where my splits went up to 2:04 even. It was extremely frustrating because I'd start each 500m piece pretty decently, sustaining a 1:56min split, but when it all came down to the last 250m, or about 35-40 strokes, I'd just lose it entirely and the numbers'd just leap by about a whole 10 seconds to 2:06min or something equally inexcusable and I'd never be able to get it back down to where I was prior to that.

Maybe my stroke rate was too high- I've to compensate for my height by pulling at a faster stroke rate; for many of the pieces I was pulling at 35 strokes per minute, and my rate went up to 40 once, which is just about insane and something I recommend you try if you'd like to experience a sensation akin to what a fish out of water goes through; and so it was hard to sustain that speed. But of course I can have excuses and more excuses and they won't hide the fact that perhaps I could have pushed harder, just that I didn't. Dying at the last 250m for the last 3 pieces was plainly inexcusable, and I'm totally on myself for that now. I just hope the next practice will be better.

Philip left a comment here that it was far better to burn out than to fade away. I agree entirely with that, notwithstanding the fact that at the rate I'm going I think I will just about burn out someday. Like today. Take a look at my schedule for the day.

1. Weights with the team at 6:30-7:45am in our gorgeous state-of-the-art Michigan Varsity Athletics weights room (the machines are all blue in line with Michigan colors; it's spacious, and in no way whatsoever crowded with the stupid hairy grunting men you see just about everywhere else; at the end of every workout, we enter our information into the computers in the gym, which then generate our weights programs for the subsequent session, which is way cool)
2. Take Commuter North down to North Campus with Katie McKee for our German 101 class that begins at 8am, a 15-minute bus ride.
3. Leave German class 5 minutes earlier to rush down on the Bursley-Baits bus to the Modern Languages Building for my Great Books Lecture at 9am.
4. Try my darndest to stay awake for Great Books, and much to my surprise, manage to, but subsequently subside into a peaceful slumber during Anthropology Lecture despite the highly entertaining professor and the topic of the day being Sexuality and Gender (you would've thought anyone'd stay awake during such a lecture).
5. Weights by myself at the CCRB (accompanied by the aforementioned obligatory stupid hairy grunting men) at 11.30am.
6. Lunch! I love Lunch! At South Quad at 1.15pm.
7. Great Books discussion at 2pm where we go over "History of the Peloponnesian War" by Thucydides, which is entirely out of my element, but whatever.
8. Go back to South Quad and get some PoliSci reading in till 4:10pm.
9. Head down to the IM Building for afternoon ergometer practice at 4:30pm, and duly perish.
10. Dinner! I magically resurrect from the dead and discover untapped sources of energy at the very mention of Dinner! Yumyumyumyum. At South Quad at 6:30pm.
11. Back to homework and more PoliSci readings at 7.30pm, interspersed with blogging and emails at random intervals, all the way till bedtime at 11pm.
12. Wake up tomorrow at 6am (HOPEFULLY I manage to drag my lazy ass out of bed) and trudge to the CCRB in the gloomy wetness (40% chance of snow tomorrow, eeuurrgghhhh), and do my own enforced erg workout.

And spend Wednesday in a manner similar to how I've just finished my Tuesday. Haha. Oh but tomorrow is excellent though, because it's Thanksgiving dinner at all the dorm dining halls- I shall list the menu for you to drool over:
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Cranberry Punch
Grilled Pork Chops
Roast Turkey
Roasted Vegetable Strudel
Seafood Primevera
Bread Dressing
Whipped Potatoes
Whole Green Beans
Whole Kernel Corn
Dinner Rolls
Apple Cranberry Pie
Mocha Pecan Pie
Pumpkin Pie (Golly! I've always wanted to try Pie! This is amazing!)
Whipped Topping
***
Okay tomorrow seems like it's gonna be a great day. Dinner will be my motivation for tomorrow's cross-training workout in the afternoon.

Here's a quote to mull over, given to me by my dearest coxswain Julie as a word of encouragement. I hope it works for you- yes, you, dear reader, who's lasted long enough through my rantings to see this. I'm going to use it to keep me going. Stay strong! I know things might not be going the best they could possibly be- but hang in there and always remember that you are destined for greater things.
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Our greatest glory consists not in never falling,
but in rising every time we fall.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

FOR THE LOVE OF THE GAME

To those of you who think I must be plainly out of my mind when I chose calloused palms, waking up at godforsaken hours, the unmistakable whoosh of the erg flywheel, and the clang of weight plates, over the uneventful life of the typical college kid- studying (or at least pretending to) on weekdays, and painting the town red on weekends, read on. I just found this article in the archives of the Michigan Daily (our university newspaper)- and it puts across, very succinctly, what life for me is all about right now.

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Blue teaches incoming freshmen about rowing and life

By Ari Fink and Bethany Herrema, For the Daily
September 14, 2005

***
“What’s an erg? Are we going to capsize? What do you mean, ‘set’ the boat?”

These are all questions novice rowing coach Vita Scaglione fields annually in her second year coaching at Michigan. In just seven months, she molds a group of athletes — most of whom have never touched an oar — into a Division I crew.

In the summer months, each Michigan female freshman and sophomore receives a letter in the mail from the crew team stating that, if she is 5-foot-7 or taller, she should try out. (Note from Yours Truly-who-is-all-of-5-foot-2-inches-tall-on-a-good-day: Even if she isn't, she is still most welcome to try out. Hahaha.) Coming in, many potential rowers aren’t aware of the commitment, athleticism, strength and mental fortitude that are required of a rower.

While most Michigan students are sleeping, the rowers are sweating. As if living in the dorm isn’t hard enough, the rowers must find a way to go to sleep while the halls are still bustling and drag themselves out of their cozy beds before the sun even rises. The young rowers arrive at the Intramural Sports Building at 5:45 a.m. and train on the Ergometers (indoor rowing machine or the aforementioned erg) or head to to the water at Belleville Lake, which is a 15-minute drive from campus. After a grueling day of classes, the rowers practice again in the afternoon. Even on Saturday, the varsity rowers come into the erg room at 7 a.m. to complete a 6k fitness test (A "Fitness Test" sounds far too mild and nondescript to adequately describe the physical and mental duress each and every one of us undergoes during the length of the 6k. Try rowing till you turn green and your eyeballs pop out of their sockets and you are incapable of behaving in a manner expected of humans for ten minutes following the row and you'll know what I mean).

In just a few short weeks, the rowers must acquire the knowledge necessary to row a boat. Some of the necessary skills include feathering the oar — twisting it after a stroke is completed on the recovery — pulling the oar into their marks, and most importantly, catching and releasing the water together. In short, a group of college freshmen and sophomores must balance taking classes, studying, making friends and exhausting their bodies on a daily basis.

Women’s rowing is one of the only sports where an incoming student can be part of a varsity team without any prior experience. It takes a special kind of athlete to learn something completely foreign to her and to put in the time and effort necessary to succeed.

“It’s not necessarily the rowing that I love, but rather the kinds of people the sport attracts,” Scaglione said.

In addition to dealing with a heavier workload in class, the rowers are also getting a crash course on the water. It won’t take long for the athletes to figure out and learn to hate the erg, or to realize that they won’t in fact capsize — unless they hit a log, which happened last year. But, rowing is a sport of constantly perfecting and re-perfecting the body and mind. In school, in life and in rowing the questions never cease.

***

Call me insane, tell me I'll never match up against the Americans, say I'm just killing myself, stare me in the eye and try to break me down, do whatever you want. This, precisely, is why I do what I do, and I want to be able to say that I have absolutely no regrets, at the end of it all.

L-R: Bow, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, Stroke, Coxswain
In The Beginning...

And after God had created the earth and all the things that were in it, God created man and woman. They followed His command and were fruitful and multiplied.

Then God looked down upon the human race and sought out four strong humans: tall, lean, well-muscled, but not too bright. (hahaha!) These four God called "the engine room".

God looked further and found two smaller but strong humans with focus and a well-developed sense of balance. These two God called "the bow pair". (I am a permanent fixture in the bow seat- due to the fact that you can't find anyone smaller than me, and also because I apparently have a "well-developed sense of balance". Those of you who have seen me wobble in a K1 will have other thoughts, though.)

God sought a human who was steely-eyed, determined, a competitor who would never say "die". This human God called "the stroke".

One more human God found. An individual who had all the qualities of "the stroke" but one who could also follow and send a strong rhythm and will to those who in turn followed him. This individual God called simply "seven".

Now God faced the biggest challenge. God must find an individual who could control and lead these eight exemplary human beings. One who was cocky and confident with a loud voice and dominant bearing. God found no such human being, so God came to earth and took on the role of the coxswain.

And the eight human beings declared that the coxswain had a "God-complex".

HAIL TO THE VICTORS

6km ergometer timed trial on Saturday! It's a monthly affair, and not something I particularly look forward to. I've to start worrying about it now. Oh dear. In my first timed trial, my 500m split was 2:12.8 min, with a total time of 26:33.7 min. Looking to better that in any way I possibly can- rowing is just like running, it's hard to knock off even a couple of seconds. People often have this warped misconception that it shouldn't be too difficult to knock a few seconds off their split, which will result in slashing their total time considerably. BUT IT'S BLOODY HARD, take my word for it! There's one hell of a difference between rowing at 1:58min/500m and 2:06min/500m- if you don't believe it, go try it for yourself. Lol.

The following song is an awesome number by Michael Jackson- I believe it hails from his 80s collection when he was in his heyday, untainted by paedophilic allegations lol. It's from an incredible mix done by one of my teammates, Keirsten- and our coach plays it often during morning erg sessions to help us take our mind off the task at hand (not that we lose focus, mind you; it just helps to have something to listen to, and the rhythm helps a lot when it comes to erging). Go check it out (legally, of course). If not, ask me for it. Hahahaha.

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She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene
I said don’t mind, but what do you mean I am the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round
She said I am the one who will dance on the floor in the round

She told me her name was Billie Jean, as she caused a scene
Then every head turned with eyes that dreamed of being the one
Who will dance on the floor in the round

People always told me be careful of what you do
And don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts
And mother always told me be careful of who you love
And be careful of what you do ’cause the lie becomes the truth

Billie Jean is not my lover
She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son

For forty days and forty nights
The law was on her side
But who can stand when she’s in demand
Her schemes and plans
’cause we danced on the floor in the round
So take my strong advice, just remember to always think twice
Do think twice

She told my baby,we where dancing still 3:00
Then she looked at me, she showed me a photo
My baby cried, ’cause his eyes were like mine
’cause we danced on the floor in the round

People always told me be careful of what you do
And don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts
She came and stood right by me
Then the smell of sweet perfume
This happened much too soon
She called me to her room

Billie Jean is not my lover
She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
Billie Jean is not my lover
She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
She says I am the one, but the kid is not my son
Billie Jean is not my lover
She’s just a girl who claims that I am the one
But the kid is not my son
***
Michael Jackson :: Billie Jean