I'm glad I didn't chicken out of the DJ Club.

Today was its first workshop where we finally start learning what's in a mix and what's with the get-up of turntables and mixers. It was scheduled at 5:45pm, and the last school class ended early at 11am.

Taking my liberties, I had lunch at the most popular food court the school had to offer. I missed the crowd and I'm glad I did. The place was packed, packed when I finished.

Allowing my pal to leave first, I tried to do some homework but the table conjoined with mine had a group of boys who had friends tagging along for a seat. I was sitting at a six-pax table alone, so I packed and left. Not a single 'thank you', but at least they noticed that I was kind enough. Heard them chat about a girl giving up her place, territory, or something.

I had an event to see to: my good friend's junior college open house. I wanted to give her the support she needed: she was one of a very small handful of girls who went from my secondary school to that particular education institute. She had few friends, so she was more or less a loner. She tried mixing in, but not to much avail.

So, imagine her surprise when she saw me coming. Unannounced, uninvited, unexpected. She was beyond ecstacy. She squealed even louder when she noticed the shirt I was wearing: a printed black tee of a snarling and prowling tiger, orange in front and white at the back. She loves tigers. I love their attitude. Rawr!

We chatted and she led me on a personal tour throughout the junior college. It's a big event. See, this is the day the school opens to the public, especially to future students. They go in and see all the exhibits, chat with the students, basically trying to figure out what the junior college (JC)'s lifestyle is like, if they're suited for the JC life and learning system and if they'd like to join.

Part of the open house's program was a mass dance that the students learnt upon their orientation. It was a simple, yet hilarious and fun dance to Jennifer Lopez's 'Let's Get Loud!' and I watched my friend enjoy herself with a good friend she found.

We sat and we chatted. There was not so much to chat about; I am regularly updated of her doings via MSN Messenger but the up-front meeting after a long while was great. We didn't talk much, but it was enough to know that each other was coping well whereever she was.

I took a look at her artwork at the art exhibition, a study of the human eye and soul, before leaving.

I made it back to the polytechnic in time, a little too early for the club meeting. I loitered and tried to browse the food court for a snack for I was ravenous. I couldn't get a snack at all, as a call came and I had to run off.

The DJ club meeting was held in a new block in the polytechnic, built specially for the arts and media-related CCAs, I believe. We have it good. We have a top DJ in Singapore, a real nice guy by the moniker of DJ Rattle, hip hop dude and all. He was very open and friendly, but still commanded his respect. We gave it, and it's nice to know you have a new big buddy.

The lesson was basic, but he expects us to do homework: Look up many DJs from around the globe and see what they do. I've a few names to check out, some I heard and some I haven't heard: Q-bert, Milk, Grand Master Flash, Cash Master, JazzyJeff among some. The rest I can't remember.

When I checked my watch, I was startled. The entire meeting had stretched from an expected two hour see-and-do to a four-hour submerging session. I was tired and hungry but I didn't complain.

But my parents did. Dad was upset, apparently, when I finally checked my handphone. There was a lovely accumulation of messages asking where I was. (For your information, I got a nice telling-off from Mother, nothing dramatic, just a few words and off. Yes, I learnt my lesson. Seven's the curfew, and after that is the notification alarm period.)

I all but sprinted for the taxi stand. Mother's orders were to take a cab home. I was in no position to oppose that.

The cab came quite quickly, and the driver asked me to direct him to my house. I agreed.

It was no more than three minutes that the cabby popped the question, "How come school end so late?"

It was 9:45pm when I caught the cab.

"CCA," was all I could reply.

It started off a nice conversation that diverted from topic to topic: he was an ex-student of the same polytechnic I took (and that was because it was the ONLY poly back then) and taxi-driving was a hobby and part time job for him, that became his job in the end.

We talked about the courses we took. When he heard that I did a music course, he immediately told me of his daughter. Blind, but pitch perfect and doing her performance diploma and furthering her studies into the performance degree. It was heartwarming to hear that, just what I needed to get my mind off the dilemna I was in.

And it turned out that the driver had a bit of music in him too, but he sacrificed his own course to support his daughter. What a lovely father. Then again, his musician father was a strict teacher and he feared music till he took up music classes elsewhere. Maybe he wanted a break from it to get a proper job, even if I'm not supposed to jeopardize my future by saying such nonsense.

When we reached my home, it was 10pm, but the talk with the cab driver was enlightening, if it had not already made the day a little better. I did not mind the $8.60 fare at all either.

Well, that's it for the day. Busy day. At least tomorrow's a public holiday so I can sleep in. Time check: 12 midnight.