JT'S LIFE SNIPPETS

SO LONG, FAREWELL

2010-10-17T16:45:00.002+08:00

The time has come, I guess, to say goodbye. At least in the virtual sense. I will not be continuing this blog.

I have another blog project in hand, which requires all my spare time to keep up. Unfortunately, I cannot invite everyone who follows this blog over (if there are indeed any), as that particular blog requires the strictest anonymity to work. If you do stumble upon it one day, just pretend you don’t know me.

I won’t be taking down all the posts, not unless I am made to by some authority or something. I have enjoyed blogging here, but it is time to move on. Thanks all, for your support.

Auf Weidersehen, goodbye…..

AN EXPENSIVE LESSON

2010-07-29T10:18:00.000+08:00

I had a call 10 minutes ago which almost gave me a heart attack. It was from my brokerage, informing me that I had done a “naked” short sell…..which is illegal in Singapore, and subject to a minimum penalty of $1000.

It turned out that I was careless. The stocks to be liquated were held in my CPF investment account. I forgot about the fact and sold it off without ticking the box which says “CPF”, making it a cash sell inadvertently.

Thankfully, it has all been resolved, although it cost me about $150 after all the transaction costs have been factored in and by the fact that I had to resell those CPF stocks at a slightly lower market price etc. I still ended up reasonably in the black overall, but that was $150 which did not have to be spent in the first place! My heart aches.
My heart is still palpitating from the close call, and you can be sure I am NEVER, EVER, going to do my stock market transactions in a hurry from here out.
I have no idea how those intra-day traders handle the stress, but I guess this means I’m not cut out for that kind of work. Anyway, I am going to go make myself some tea and calm myself down. There is no way I can make myself work for the next half an hour…..

OPT

2010-07-22T09:53:00.000+08:00

The financial world has coined the term OPM for the use of Other People’s Money as a form capital-less investing strategy.

Personally, I am more interested in the OPT scenario.

That is, Other People’s Time.

Now and then, I feel the urge to vent about OPT. I am fiercely protective of my time. It is one of the few things in life that I value more than money. In fact, the goal of having enough money is just a means to an end, the end being able to spend my time the way I want to.

And there-in lies the crux of the problem.

I have something against people who try to multitask (unsuccessfully) and end up spreading themselves too thin. For most part, I think it is due to a modern society ill, that of the need for instant gratification, the "I want it and I want it now" syndrome.

Kudos to the person who is able to juggle all their commitments successfully, without leveraging on OPT. But how about the ten others who invariably affect others with their time overreach?

Because it ends up affecting me via the following OPT ways:

1) Waiting for perpetual late-comer because of close appointments. Even I am occasionally late (thanks, Singapore traffic), but every time? And at least 30 mins each time?

2) Group events end up being individual events, because everyone realises too late that it is not possible to do 10 things in the time available for 5 things, so the other 5 things get shafted last minute.

3) Having to always adjust my schedule to suit others for committed activities. I remember joining a group boxing class with some friend, and quite a number of classes had to be re-arranged because some of the girls decided they rather go diving, mountain climbing and what not, even though those other plans had been made after we started our boxing classes.

4) Events turn into juggling parade. Ever been to a dinner, where everyone else is on the phone? I have. Refer to my vent on the smart-phone phenomenon. What am I, invisible? Maybe I should just whip out a PC and just work too?

5) End up being the one doing all the work for a joint effort, because everyone is too busy. So I am the slacker? Just because I consciously make a point of not over-committing myself to other activities in order to make time for this one, I am suddenly the sop who should do everything because I have no life.

6) Endure snipes about how I have no life, just because I have no wish to become someone who leverages on OPT. Worse, after that, having to listen to how stressed people are with their busy lives, when about half the activities in their lives could probably be curtailed with no apparent impact. Then again, who am I to say? I am just the girl who has no life.

Sometime ago, someone asked me if I was interested in playing for an alumni band which was having a performance soon. I was frankly interested to get back into playing, but I have had a lot of past OPT experiences when it comes to amateur setups like this. The majority of the players will invariably be:

1) Working stiffs who insist on keeping the same activity in their social lives even with this additional commitment.

2) Players who are simultaneously involved in several different groups, whose practice schedules will, guess what, fall in the same period.

3) Technically excellent players who think that they are entitled to miss practices because their levels of expertise are so much above the rest, and they should not waste their time.

I refuse to set myself up for practices where only three people turn up (and if we are lucky, one of them might just be the conductor). That’s my time, folks. So I didn’t join them.

Despite the frequent urge to vent about OPT, I seldom do so publicly. The OPT phenomenon appears acceptable to most people, because it allows them to use their time the way they want to. The end justifies the means, so sucks to you if you don’t join the game.

Anyway, the recognition that I don’t want OPT in my life has resulted in quite a bit of change to my life, namely, my social life has decreased immensely. I seldom go for group activities anymore, unless I have decided the level of OPT for the people and the activities involved will be at an acceptable level.

Sometimes I ask myself whether this insistence is worth it. I really lose out quite a bit in terms of the stuff I am able to participate in and accomplish by scheduling with so much buffer. The upside is that I seldom have to live with the anxiety of an over-committed life and the guilt that someone wasted their time because of me.

I guess I just answered my own question.

SOME HEALTH UPDATES

2010-07-22T09:44:00.000+08:00

I have been seeing a renal specialist lately for some baseline tests on my one and only kidney. Good news is that my one kidney is working fine, except –

(There is always an except, isn’t there? Doctors would not exist but for the “excepts”…)

1) There is some blood in my urine (has been for some time).

2) I have low levels of blood albumin.

According to the specialist, the first happens to some people sometimes, and there is nothing he or I can do about it. The bad news is that my insurance company has rejected a recent insurance proposal for this very reason. And it looks like there is nothing I can do about it.

Moral of the story: Go and get some medical insurance coverage when you are young and healthy. This should be the top priority after securing your first job. I thought I was invincible and wouldn’t need it – I was wrong.

The low blood albumin is puzzling. According to my own research, it could either be due to a) malnuitrition (me? Really?), b) liver diseases (uh-oh), c) kidney diseases (uh-uh-uh-oh) or d) it is just one of those things. On the kidney front I am cool, and I don’t appear jaundiced, so liver problems are unlikely. I could be malnutritioned of course, but it doesn’t seem to have done me a lot of good on the weight loss front if that’s the case, so the doctor thinks it might be “just one of those things”.

To be on the safe side, if my albumin levels are still low next time I see him (a year later!), he will send me to a gastro-specialist to check my liver. Since it was a gastro specialist who discovered my single kidney (and sent me to him) and tumour situation in the first place, I would have come full circle!

Back to square one after all these $$$ spent.

The ultrasounds last month has revealed some small growths in my left ovary. While they are too small to be of concern right now, I feel kind of suspended in limbo, wondering if this is a sign that “IT is all coming back to me now”. I wonder also if this is how people feel when they are in cancer remission, the fear that it might come back someday will always haunt one.

I am somewhat glad that children are not in my plans. With my crummy family health history and apparently crummy genes, I don’t think it will be a good idea anyway.

By the way, it really bugs me to visit SGH. It feels like the entire sick senior population in Singapore is congregated there, and it really disturbs me to see them, and be reminded that the day may come when I will be one of them, unable to walk properly, speak intelligibly, see and hear clearly.

Aging is scary, aging with ill health is worse.

WHEN THERE IS NO TIME TO SAY GOODBYE

2010-07-19T10:04:00.000+08:00

This morning at the office, we received news of an ex-colleague’s passing from a cardiac arrest. He leaves behind an elderly wife, who is still having problems accepting the fact that he is not around anymore.

This is the second such news I have received in the last 2 months. Last month, SB’s young friend passed away from stomach cancer, one week after being diagnosed, without a chance to even say goodbye to his young wife due to situational issues.

I was, and still am very, very affected by these passings happening so close to home. Death by itself is already sad enough when one can see it coming, but when it happens without any warning, it enters the realm of the tragic.

I find it very hard to concentrate on work this morning, even though a crisis has arisen at work and needs my attention. Maybe I am particularly sensitive because we have experienced some of this in the family, though it has been some years. But such things don’t go away entirely. SB nearly had a nervous breakdown some weeks past because of all these fears, and while I have more stoic nerves and can handle it better, I am no less affected.

It is going to be another long, sad day.

WORK WHINES….ALREADY?!

2010-06-12T23:51:00.002+08:00

When I was first informed of my new assignment and new supervisor at work after I returned from my operation, I knew I was going to have problems sooner or later. I just hoped it would be later.

I like my work scope now, although I have been advised to be careful not to get stuck in a rut. Now that is fodder for another post. But in the meantime, I am enjoying the work that I have been given.

The only fly in the ointment is my current supervisor, whom I have had doubts about from the very beginning. Tis not that he is a bad guy, just that our innate characters conflict and there is some history that involves some other people. As a result, we are somewhat suspicious and wary of each other, and most of the time it feels like a wary truce between us, then an amicable working relationship.

He is what we call a “micro-manager”. He tends to nitpick and control the smallest thing (like document formatting mistakes etc) and leaves the big picture dangling. Now, if I were much lower down the ladder rung, it might not have been so bad. But I am used to a boss who gave me the big picture and allowed me free rein to accomplish that, but will chip in and support me whenever I ran into problems. So mostly, I feel totally directionless when it comes to what to do next, and yet totally constraint in those little tasks.

And I hate it that he has put me under surveillance. Since I am still supporting multiple bosses, my seating has not been changed, which means I am somewhat far away from him as our office is quite large. So he often just walks over to confirm for himself that I am at my desk working. Now my job involves quite a bit of information gathering, which means I have to go around talking to people. So I have taken it upon myself to inform him of every single movement I make so that he will not get the wrong idea. Gosh! I thought I was light years away from the days when I had to raise my hand to go to the toilet!

And it also means that I have cannot openly talk to my ex-ex-supervisor and former team mates, whom I am still very close to, because there is some bad blood between them. I got caught a few times and boy, was it awkward!

I am trying not to let it affect me very much, and am managing to keep quite zen. But I can feel the situation scrap away at me slowly, so I don’t know if I will keep the zen-ness after a few more months. I have another colleague who was transferred to the same supervisor a few weeks after me, and we have been commiserating with each other. He is considering taking up a posting to our new subsidiary on the Indian East Coast just to get out of this situation. I have not gone to that extreme yet.

The thing is all opportunities which will get me out from under my supervisor’s thumb will land me in the exact situation which made me so miserable few months ago – being my own boss (running my own project). So I am now between the devil and deep blue sea.

The employee appraisal is here again and the employee self appraisal and feedback form is on my table. What do I say this time?

ME, MYSELF AND I

2010-06-06T18:04:00.000+08:00

I have not been very prolific on the blog in the past few weeks, but then I have not been idle either. Contrary to that, this one month past has been one of the busiest and most productive months of my life.

It has been a month of a lot of introspection, reflection (watch out, the big words are flying) and planning. About where I am now, where I want to be, and how I hope to achieve that.

Finance
The initial frugality bit was only a start. As I started planning and budgeting, I started asking myself more questions, and forcing myself to look at things which I had been unconsciously avoiding and now I am in full fledge attack mode.

I sat down and asked myself what I really want on the financial front. After some soul searching, I defined my goal – to fully retire at 55 years old with enough to support myself and my parents comfortably.

That led to the how bit, and I added excel sheet after excel sheet to calculate and track everything I can think of. And came to the realization that my goal would be very, very difficult to achieve, but not entirely impossible.

I won’t bore anyone with details on the processes, but the gist of it is, I have a financial goal now, at 32 years old in life. A bit old to start, but hopefully never too late.

Fitness and Health
I mentioned to my coach the other day that my fitness goal is to fit into the wardrobe I acquired pre-surgery. Once there, maintenance would be my focus. I could tell he was quite disappointed. As he rightly pointed out, I could aim for more than that.

And therein lies the next part of what kept me so occupied last month. Figuring my priorities and working out some sort of balance. I am already well aware I don’t do so well with multi-tasking.

Back to my coach. Whittling myself down to a bikini worthy size 0 may be achievable yet, but the net ROI would not be worth the time and effort to achieve that. All I ask is that I don’t waste my wardrobe and be healthy. It also ties in majorly to my revelations about certain other parts of my life (which is another post in itself), but there you have it. There has to be some kind of balance between a whooping 81 kg and drool worthy 45 kg, and I think….this is it.

Work
My top priority is my goal of early retirement of course, but I don’t want life to pass by while I try to achieve that. To that end, I will work as hard and as much as I need to meet my goal, but I have no plans to climb the corporate ladder aggressively. I am sure everyone had enough of whiny work-related posts from me last year. I am half convinced that ovarian tumor was a result of stress accumulation during that one year.

Social
I am fortunate, or maybe some consider unfortunate, that I don’t have many friends and social obligations

There was a period of time in the past two years, when I thought I needed to get out more, meet more people and make more friends. Though it was alien to my nature, I forced myself to do exactly that. And ended up tired and fried, irritated and disappointed, and generally miserable, with a rapidly expanding Facebook friends list but not a lot of people I still talk to on a regular basis.

I don’t think I have grown any wiser since then, but I am certainly more honest with myself these days. While I can see the usefulness of a big social network in many aspect of life, it still does not mean much if I can’t live life the way I want it – left alone. I don’t need to spend a lot of time socializing to feel happy. In fact, too much of it irks me. I am happy enough to meet whatever friends I have for meal/drinks once a month. Somewhat “hermity” to be sure, but there needs to someone to balance the social butterflies out there.

And I intend to keep it this way.

Education
Finish my MSc. I can’t afford the 40K it would take otherwise if I want to retire by 55 years old.

What an about-face after my last whine! But money talks! Really!

Me
This part was the easiest and most fun to plan!

• Go to the library, read good books, and think a lot.
• Read the news, and think a lot
• Go to the bookstore, read trashy novels and think, not so much though
• Talk to smart people, and think a lot
• Treat myself to KFC once a month
• Sleep…and enjoy it
• Spend time with my parents, but not too much (for all our sanity)
• Travel once a year

In conclusion….

I feel like a computer which has undergone defragmentation. Various bits that have been tucked away in various spaces of my psyche have suddenly been pieced together and properly organized. As a result, I have a direction, I am more efficient, and more importantly….

I am contented.

And I can really, really ask for no more than that.

MORE THOUGHTS ON MOTHER-TONGUE EDUCATION

2010-05-09T03:23:00.000+08:00

My Filipino colleague was complaining to me about his kids and Mother-Tongue study in primary school. No Tagalog is taught in local schools, of course, and his kids had problems with Chinese and Malay, so he finally got permission to enroll them in private French classes.

I actually never stopped to think how the bilingual system affects the foreigners in local schools who are not of Chinese, Malay or Indian descent.

With the increasing number of foreigners and their kids in Singapore, I suppose it is really time to do away with the traditional bilingual platform in schools, as much as I hate to admit it.

Just like I had mentioned previously, my Filipino colleague also suggested that schools do away with compulsory mother-tongue, and allow students to opt in to take classes at both examinable and non-examinable levels. In addition, he suggested that if the government wants to encourage take up of mother-tongue languages, the authorities in question should incentivise the takers, especially those who opt in for the examinable. Now that, I had not previously considered. Immediately, I thought of a few ways off the top of my head:

1) Priority in University enrolment provided all their other subjects meet the required standards. This way, the bright students who do not do well in mother-tongue are not penalized, but the students who do well in their normal subjects and mother-tongue studies are rewarded. Works kind of like those “Special” papers that we could take at “A” levels.

2) Special programs such as internships (leading to job offers if possible), exchange programs etc which are only open to students who completed, say, at least “AO” levels in mother-tongue languages.

3) Communities and companies who have vested interest in keeping mother-tongue languages alive to offer scholarships etc directed at students who take up and do well in mother-tongue languages.

I am sure more can be thought of. Actually I was mainly thinking of Chinese as I was writing because no other races seem to be having a problem with their mother-tongue education.

In fact, it made me wish that the above had been in place when I was a student, so I could profit from the system. Haha.

I think if the incentives are sufficiently attractive, the next thing that parents would be complaining about would be that there are not enough high level Chinese classes. Put a price on a previously free commodity, and the about-face reaction is astounding. Such is the psyche of a Singaporean.

A WORK ETHIC ISSUE

2010-05-09T03:15:00.000+08:00

There is a newbie in the department upstairs, who is a scholar with the company. Which was kind of unusual as scholars were usually rotated around the production departments in their first two years to give them an idea of site work.

Turns out that Mummy called and requested for Junior to be given an office job, site work being too dangerous for her peace of mind.

This guy accepted a scholarship with an internationally known company in the heavy industry, for Christ’s sake. What did he and Mummy expect? Kid gloves and red carpet?

As a rookie engineer, I used to be sent out to site once every so often, even though my job was mainly office based. Even today, I am expected to man up and board a ship if my bosses needed me to.

So what, he thinks he should be privileged enough to get to choose to enjoy the same perks while other people risk their lives to support those very perks? In a way, he had even more of an obligation than normal employees did, since he had taken sponsorship from the company to finance his studies.

Some years ago, I was sent on an inspection trip to Timor Leste. It was supposed to be handled by another engineer, but her mother objected on grounds of potential danger, so I was sent instead. Naturally, there was no protest from this engineer or her mother when the next destination turned out to be Norway.

What, my mother doesn’t worry? Someone else gets all the shit while she enjoys the grand tour?

My mum confided some years back that she worried like any mother did when I was involved in any physical or offshore work. But it was my job; I was being paid to do it. There was no ethical reason for me to reject the task. So, she kept quiet and supported me as best as she could.

We are all someone’s children. If we all rejected the given tasks on the pure basis that it involved some potential danger, who would do the job? Where would our handsome bonuses come from?

If the risks are so unacceptable, then don’t work in this industry. Or, if you turn down the dirty work, go to the back of the queue when a silver bullet assignment turns up.

Back to this scholar guy. If I had been the HR department, I would demand the scholarship money back with interest, and kick this guy out. However, I don’t think he gets much respect from his peers and other people in his department anyway. I certainly don’t go out of my way to accommodate him.

It will be interesting to see how long he lasts in cold storage.

AUSTERITY DRIVE

2010-05-09T03:03:00.000+08:00

I can’t multi-task. I have one of those one-track minds that need to be done with one thing before I can go on to another. But it also means that when I am on that one thing, I am more or less 100% on that one thing.

About a year ago, that would be losing weight and keeping fit. Hence all the training stuff which bored a few people around me. That has languished for the last few months, and this month, I’m into…..the money stuff.

I tell you it is those “Get-Out-Of-Debt” and frugality blogs that I happen upon and been chasing down. They make really fantastic reading….and inspire me to pay more attention to my own money matters.

I have no debts, of course, but I was always aware that I was not exactly doing the best with my money that I ought. I have a budget that I never stick to and although I keep account of all my spending, much good it does, since I never bother to use the information to improve things. So I thought I should relook at my whole personal financial situation since I am in the mood anyway.

I did a net worth estimate tonight. I have been squirreling money away in several places religiously, but I thought it would be interesting to know where I stood. Well, if I liquidated all my assets today, I would be around 450K including CPF, which I did not think was too bad for a 32 year old. I have to admit though that most of it is due to luck – company share options (with extremely good market years) and extremely generous bonuses.

So, I already took steps in cutting down my spending and making my net position blacker than black. Cutting cabs was one, the rest such as food, shopping etc are falling into place quite easily for various reasons. I am optimistic that I’ll finally meet the budget this month.

I am spending extra effort to optimize other stuff too. I have 15 credit cards. It would take another post to explain why, but anyway, only one is being used on a frequent basis. I am not worried about CC interest rates and debts, but I am starting to think about the potential for CC fraud. So I am going to cancel a number of them. And I plan to optimize the remaining for best cash rebates options.

I think I also need to relook at my investment strategies, since most of it is in medium to high risk equities and mutual funds. Maybe I should look at some government bonds or something. Need to educate myself and put things in place while my mind is still on this subject.

The experts say it is good to work towards some goals, short and long term. I can’t say I have one other than to retire comfortably and as early as practicable, and since I consider myself quite low maintenance, I think it won’t take so much money. Of course I haven’t figured in health care costs after retirement, but that is why I am looking into euthanasia laws….haha.

But I’ll be honest. The whole reason why I am into this whole austerity drive now is nothing more than an academic exercise….because this happens to be the flavour of the month. And also because it makes me feel really grown-up and responsible. Haha.

There is one issue that I have been struggling with, though, and that is the balance between frugality and the quality of life. Like, going to a moderately up market hair salon compared to a neighbourhood salon at a fraction of the cost. Or using more specialized facial products over more generic products for my problematic complexion.

If I were clearly in debt, or having problems meeting ends meet, the solution is clear - cut costs first. But what if I could fit everything into my budget, the only result being that I save less? I am still trying to decide on my priorities.

So, this has been the journey so far. I wondered how long I could keep the interest up to achieve some really great stuff financially, but I decided to take it day by day. It would be interesting though, to see if I could cross the million dollar mark, net worth-wise, another 10 years down the road.

Check back and we shall see

SECURITY…OR PARANOIA?

2010-04-28T15:27:00.000+08:00

I am flying to Tasmania this evening for a two-day business trip.

Packing was a little stressful as usual, since I was requested to pack light as my traveling companion did not want to check our luggage and waste time at the carousel later since we had to be at a meeting directly after landing. But then he is a man and packing light comes easy for him.

Anyway, we were told to empty our laptops/netbooks of all personal content for the trip. The story going around is that someone got caught at the Australian airport security with nude photos of himself or something not very nice on his laptop computer. I don’t know what happened to him later, but it appeared to be nothing nice.

I was kind of horrified, not so much because I have anything incriminating on my netbook, but because it occurred to me that in order to discover the nasty stuff on the PCs, the Australian airport security would actually have switch on and check all the laptops being brought on board. What kind of time is that going to take? What kind of paranoid security is that?

I would actually understand if they were checking for some advanced software which would, I don’t know, activate something and take down buildings somewhere. But personal stuff?

Even if I happen to have an entire porn website downloaded on my netbook, what business is it of the Australian authorities? My netbook is, after all, mine. What did they think would happen, that I would connect my netbook up to some broadcasting facility and manage to corrupt a whole city of Australians with pictures and videos of naked people?

Someone kindly explain the whole logic to me.

My incredulous reaction sparked a discussion of airport security in various places. My travelling companion is a Filipino, and he has plenty of stories to tell. Anyway, I had already come to the conclusion that the US of A is no-man’s land for the next decade unless the company decides to send me there for any reason. At least I would not have to pay from my own pockets to be deported at the airport because some immigration officer did not like my accent. Australia may have to be added to my list if trends show that their airport security is going to rival the States in terms of discrimination and paranoia, which my colleagues have assured me to be the case.

Anyway, I am packed, and my netbook is clean. We will see if I come back this weekend with any further stories to tell.

BACK TO BUSES

2010-04-28T15:25:00.002+08:00

I have started taking buses in the mornings again.

Part of the reason is cost driven of course. Blame it on the slew of “Get out of debt” blogs that I fell into while surfing the internet last weekend. Not that I have any debt (that I know of). But saving more money (to spend on other useless stuff) is always good.

The other part of the reason is that I am fed up with the cabbies. It used to be that I could step out of the house and be in a cab in two minutes. For some reason, the cabs started drying up in the area where I was waiting (at 6 am in the morning!!) in the last few weeks. Any rare cabs that pass by were either “Busy”, “Hired” or they simply just passed me by without stopping. After one morning wait of 20 minutes, I decided enough was enough.

If I had to stress myself so early in the morning with public transport either way, I would rather be paying three bucks than seventeen bucks doing it.

So that was three days ago, and I am surviving. Sure I need deep breathing exercises every morning to keep a zen mind if the bus service happens not to be on time, but I am doing pretty well not stressing up. Thinking about the extra money in the bank helps a lot.

On a side note, I notice that cabs are in abundance again on my street. The first law of life at work again: When you need something, it is never there. When you don’t need it…..sigh!

YES, I AM BILINGUAL……?

2010-04-25T14:12:00.000+08:00

I am involved in a project at work for a Chinese client.

Recently, news came filtering down from the top that the clients had requested for the project presentation to be done in Chinese during their upcoming visit. It is still not known if all other subsequent project documents such as the technical specifications will need to be translated to Chinese; or if all subsequent correspondences would be in Chinese should the project be awarded.

The presentation is normally done by the senior managers in the company. But this time, it would have to be delegated to more junior staff of my level, because the senior people either couldn’t speak Mandarin (for those who are Chinese) or were not of Chinese descent.

All the people identified for the presentation, and any subsequent documentation work to be done in Chinese, are so far PRCs.

I am not so sure how I feel about this so far. Up till this moment, I am the only junior manager heavily involved in this project. The technical specifications in English are all prepared by me. I am a Singaporean Chinese, with a bilingual background, and I have shown on several occasions that I am reasonably fluent in spoken Mandarin at least. I have to ask why top management had not even considered me for these Chinese jobs.

Of course, I have to admit that even though my spoken and written Chinese could be considered of above average levels among Singaporeans, there is still a rather large gap in standards between my PRC colleagues and myself. I am honest enough to acknowledge that I would have huge problems if all the Chinese work had been dumped on me, especially having to research all the technical jargon in Chinese.

What bothers me though, is that top management had simply assumed that Singaporean Chinese like myself are unqualified to undertake this job, without giving us a chance to prove or disprove our Chinese/Mandarin competency. It goes to show the confidence that we Singaporeans have in our own bilingual education. It boggles the mind how society expects us to perform in China then, if we cannot even be expected to do so on our own home-ground.

And then I read about the intention to reduce the mother-tongue weightage in local exams. No comments.

For myself, I am now trying to decide if I should offer to take up part of the preparation work for the upcoming presentation and subsequent documentation. It will be a big challenge, and adding much to my increasing workload. But I think it needs to be done, if only to prove a point.

THE FRIENDLY ATHEIST

2010-04-24T21:42:00.002+08:00

I came across this particular site one day, and then continued on to another related site.

Very, very interesting and thought provoking discussions.

The postings are written by one Hemant Mehta, whose became sort of famous after he “sold his soul” on eBay. I won’t repeat the details as it is all on the linked sites.

I had wanted to write down my thoughts on the whole atheist movement after reading parts of the writings and those of some commentors on his blog. But unfortunately, my thoughts are a jumbled mess, and well, the topic is kind of sensitive, so I need to do it right to avoid my own blog being a mess of arguments and troll comments. My posting may never see the light of day though…haha.

But those interested, please have a good read.

BIG IS BEAUTIFUL….?

2010-04-24T21:28:00.001+08:00

All the plus sized ladies in Singapore are probably cheering at this news.

“Ms Beverly Tan, 29, founder of TKS and Sons, said she came up with a plus-size pageant to give big women a platform to show off their beauty.”

I think the intention is good, but I am still somewhat skeptical about the whole message that this beauty contest is supposed to bring across.

Beauty contests have always been very subjective affairs, and I believe that no one single judge will be able to define the criteria of beauty that is being used in each contest. Fair of face? Hot bods? Inner beauty? Intelligence? Confidence? Je ne sais quoi? All of the above?

In my opinion, if we are to talk about a true beauty pageant that celebrates plus size acceptance, then it should be one that has a clearly defined criteria and which takes physical size out of the equation. It should be therefore be one that accepts women who meets or exceeds the set criteria, regardless of physical size. Simply put, plus sized, normal sized, undersized women should compete on the same stage. These women are considered beautiful because of X number of factors which do not include physical size.

A beauty pageant for plus size women only seem to say, “You are beautiful, but only among the big babes.”

Seems like not much of a compliment, after all.

GROWTH?

2010-04-24T21:01:00.000+08:00

I play quite a bit of SimCity 4.

In my “travels” around the SimCity world online, I realised that there are two main types of players. The first type is obsessed with cramming as many virtual people into their cities as they can. Their cities are skyscraper dominated, their mass transit systems, healthcare, education are bursting at the seams, road traffic snarls and pollution rules. The other is concerned mainly with creating beauty, nice little suburbs with little bungalows, many green spaces, trees abound, empty roads etc.

Sometimes, I feel that the Singapore government is a lot like the former type of player.

I understand the need of course. But it is still not easy to live with the impact. Sometimes, as I am squeezed up against the bus doors, desperately hanging on to the railings as the bus takes a sharp curve in the road, I wonder what the difference is between me and those people hanging out of the bus windows in one of those third world countries. Maybe only that we have no livestock on our buses, although, sometimes, today’s kids do not behave that much differently from livestock.

I remember a long time ago, when we would sit in front of our television sets and laugh at the “Big Hands” that they used to push Japanese train travellers onto the trains, because the trains were so overcrowded. Today, as I stand in front of the doors to a sardine packed train and more people coming down the escalators to board behind me, it doesn’t feel as funny any more.

Growth? Or otherwise? Sometimes it has become really hard to tell.

Anyway, when I feel totally overwhelmed, I will retreat back to the relative quiet and emptiness that is my home, and indulge in an hour or two or SimCity 4. I like my nice flat suburb of 20,000 population, with the hilltop home for the Mayor – virtual me. It gives me a bit of breathing space when I think of my virtual self enjoying her space.

Talk about living vicariously.

SOME THOUGHTS ON EDUCATION DIRECTION

2010-04-24T21:00:00.000+08:00

I walked past the newly completed School of the Arts when I was going for my facial last week. And thought how far Singapore has come in this area.

I remember many, many grouses from peers many years ago about lack of what I would call “minority degree programs” such as music, liberal arts etc. Some other friends were lamenting the lack of diversity in our University modules; in the States, they said, students could have modules like “Modern Dance” mixed into their engineering and business degree courses, thereby leading to a better rounded program. In Singapore, you were stuck with those boring basic engineering, law, business etc modules most of the time. If you didn’t like any of these, you were screwed. No modern dance for you.

Today’s kids have a lot more choices and can pursue their interests more freely, which is good. But I also caution Singapore against going the other extreme. A very good example would be the States now. From what I have been reading, the lack of trained professionals in engineering and science is seriously affecting their competitiveness, a result of too many years of too many students taking on “soft subjects” that have no immediate applications on the modern society. Unemployment is high there, but graduates are unable to take advantage of the available jobs in certain high tech sectors which require engineering and science majors. Meanwhile, everyone else goes hungry, because a society in recession cannot support the patronage required for these other non-technical professions, like your modern dancer. And the lack of these trained technical professionals, who will be the ones creating real growth on the ground, may prevent the society from rebounding from its recession as fast as it should.

I have also seen recent arguments made against too diverse a course structure, as per my modern dance example. Students in the US now face fee hikes and education budget cuts, and generally take longer than they used to complete their degrees. A reason for the time and cost incurred was the presence of too many non-relevant modules which ultimately had no real value add to their employability in their intended fields. So much for the value of a well rounded education.

I feel that we mirror the US closely in certain parts of our developmental path, and in this instance of education, we should really take warning, and not move our education base too much towards the left. What we have right now is quite a nice balance, and we should take care to keep it this way.

A QUICK RANT ABOUT THE ROMANIAN ACCIDENT SITUATION

2010-04-24T20:58:00.000+08:00

Note: This was written two weeks back. Things have apparently been moving, although I am wondering how much of it is only for show on the Romanian side. At any rate, I decided to publish my feelings at that point in time.

There are several things in the papers recently that make me rather indignant for various reasons. One is the whole situation regarding that Romanian Silviu Ionescu. There are a lot of epithets I want to attach before his name, but I shall refrain in the name of civilisation, something which seems to be quite unknown to him anyway.

Then there is the reaction of the Romanian government and media. One would have thought that I should have gotten used to all the slights and indignations Singapore had been made to bear all these years by virtue of our small size, small market, and political insignificance in the international arena etc. This Romanian situation is but another one in a long list. But such things are not easy to swallow. It is fortunate that I do not run the foreign ministry, because my knee jerk reaction would have been to cut off all diplomatic relations pronto. It is not like there is anything to lose on our part anyway.

But perhaps there is no need to do anything to avenge ourselves. Romania seems to be struggling within image issues already anyway, as evinced here. Good luck down the slippery slope. As for Mr Ionescu, there is no immunity to karma. Good luck too.

A DILEMMA OF SORTS

2010-04-24T20:55:00.000+08:00

I sometimes feel as if I am caught between my Chinese roots and the modern society.

Take a few Sundays back, when we had to make our offerings for Qing Ming at the columbarium. There was a regular bonfire going as every family took their turns to burn their offerings. As I watched the incense papers and fake paper currencies catch fire, the smoke and ashes flying around, no doubt bound for underworld banks, I had this strong moment of conflict.

It was just Earth Day the day before, and the very next day we were all there at the columbarium happily burning papers, emitting CO2 like there is no tomorrow (and there probably won’t be if things continue the way they are). I am no tree hugger, but it didn’t seem quite right that we were doing what we were doing when we were faced with environmental issues everywhere we turn. Yet I am cognizant of the need to ensure the Chinese traditions continue, because I am aware that it gives rise to a richer and more vibrant Chinese culture, and a sense of identity for me as a local Chinese. I had spoken to my younger mainland Chinese colleagues who, as a result of the Cultural Revolution, have totally no access to all these traditions and mores, and I can feel the difference it makes.

And so, how do I justify one over the other?

BACKLOGGED POSTS

2010-04-24T20:53:00.000+08:00

I have been in one of those “don’t want to connect to the world” funks again. That didn’t mean I stopped thinking and writing, just that I didn’t feel like logging on to post them. So what follows this post will kind of be like a post diarrhea.

Enjoy.

SECOND BEST

2010-04-14T18:54:00.002+08:00

Last Sunday, there was a column in the paper about people playing with their phones when they are supposed to be having a face to face conversation with someone.

I can’t tell how many times I have been subjected to this. Some people ask me out for a meal, and spend the whole time SMSing, chatting on the phone with other people, and doing all sorts of what-not, while I have to sit there like a dummy. Or worse, doing those things when I am talking. I knew I lost weight, but I never thought I had become invisible in the process. With the proliferation of smart phones, it gets even worse.

I don’t know what this people are thinking when they do this. But I know what I am thinking. I am thinking that I don’t like being just one of the tasks on the multi-task list. I resent being number two, three or four on the priority list when I have made somebody the top priority for that duration. I don’t play second fiddle to anyone, let alone an inanimate object. If you have got better things to do, then tell me, because, you know, so have I.

It is as bad as being out with a guy who never takes his eyes off other pretty girls the whole time he is with you. So tell me, will I be just as justified in throwing my glass of water in your face?

ANDY WILLIAMS AND THE OSMOND BROTHERS

2010-04-10T01:15:00.001+08:00

SB had a video of Andy Williams and the Osmond Brothers on her latest blog post, which gave me goose pimples and made me cry a little.

I have always loved Andy Williams. One of the last great crooner in the style of Sinatra. People wonder why I am so behind the times in my tastes in music. But when you listen to the singing of the 60's, somehow you don't want to move on. Someone commented on YouTube that they don't make songs, and singers, like this anymore. And I have to agree.

Since SB put one on which made me cry, I am in turn embedding one which made me laugh. This one features the young Osmond brothers with Julie Andrews, another great favourite of mine. She both looks and sounds gorgeous. The world lost a great performer when she had to stop singing. And may I say that she looks just as beautiful and classy today as she did then. I only wish I could age as gracefully as she did when it gets to be my turn. She is the only person who inspires me to look forward to old age...

Can we say....sexy? SB and I always thought there is nothing more sexy than a man who can sing. Multiply that a few times here. The Osmond brothers, with Andy Williams (mmm...) and his brothers. The families that sing together stay together.

I think I can go to bed tonight happy.

A MOMENT OF STUPIDITY

2010-04-09T16:32:00.000+08:00

My internet died on me last Friday and try as I might, I could not resuscitate it, not even after a combined 1.5 hours spent with the technical help hotline. So I gave up and begged them to send a technician to the house to see what was happening.

Now I admit that I am somewhat of a technology dinosaur, but I fancied that I was at least not one of those users who become stories that technicians trade during their off moments. So I was quite sure after lots of trying to get things to work that whatever that caused my internet to die was nothing to with me, and I had a ready-drafted email to my ISP about how lousy their service was, only after one month usage.

So the technician came, he insouciantly saw, and he finally conquered. By plucking out the telephone line from the Data socket and re-plugging into the Phone socket. And he said, let there be light, and there was light, blinking all over the previously inert modem. And I saw the light, and it was good. I had my internet back, all in five minutes.

And in the meantime, my jaw was hanging open, and I was pointing to the socket and stammering “But…but…but…I…I…I didn’t touch that at all….and it was working fine before this….” The sounds of a person still trying to avoid death by embarrassment.

I am not sure exactly what shade of red I was the remaining time he spent filling out the completion form. And I can just imagine the conversation he will have with his colleagues when he gets back into the office. About that stupid woman who can’t tell her phone connection from her data point. Italics intended.

But anyway, I got my internet back. And it is good.

QUITTER BID REJECTED

2010-03-22T12:04:00.000+08:00

My bid for quitting the MSc course has been rejected by my HR manager. I'm basically back to the 'do or die' situation. Darn it, I can't even be a quitter with a clear conscience.

Anyway, I have emailed the University for an extension using workloads, health, whatever I can think of for an excuse. And if they agree, I need to wade through unfinished assignments and a dissertation in this whole coming year. And the question foremost in my mind: If I couldn't do it all these years past, what makes them think I could do it now?

This is so not going to be a fun year.

CHICKEN RICE OR RICE FOR THE CHICKENS?

2010-03-21T17:56:00.000+08:00

Language, both oral and written, is one of the key defining features of a culture’s identity. And identity, for Singaporeans, is a matter of utmost importance, as we struggle with the dilemma of wanting to be recognized in our own rights as an individual nation with individual characteristics, while at the same time, needing to be able to blend in with the other key players who hold such influence literally over our lives and deaths.

There was an article some time back by Mr Janadas Devan regarding the meanings and proper use of certain words (“A Question of Great Enormity”, The Straits Times, Oct 12, 2009). A reader later wrote to the paper discussing the evolution of languages and words with common and colloquial use, technology and societal development etc and suggested that languages do move with the times, and when appropriate, the users must do so. I agree.

There was a very interesting article in today’s Lianhe Zaobao Weekly (早报周刊) by Mr He Luo Lang (河洛郎), regarding the use of the phrases 海南鸡饭 (Hainanese chicken rice) and 肉骨茶 (Bak kut teh – a rich broth made from pork ribs) respectively for Singapore’s best-known and best-beloved local dishes.

It appeared that a certain Chinese scholar had made the disparaging comment that 鸡饭 (Chicken rice) is an inappropriate phrase to use, as it refers to 鸡吃的饭 (Rice eaten by chickens) and instead should be more appropriately named 鸡肉饭 (Chicken meat rice), just like how we would call beef or mutton with rice 牛肉饭 and 羊肉饭 respectively and not 牛饭 or 羊饭.

The writer goes on to argue that in the first place, it is uncommon to refer to animal feed as 饭 (Rice). Instead the word 食 (Feed) is the word used, as in 猪食 (pig feed), 牛食(cow feed) instead of 猪饭 and牛饭. There is therefore extremely low likelihood that 鸡饭 would be misunderstood as referring to chicken feed instead of the chicken with rice that people eat. In addition, for small domestic animals such as chickens and ducks, and also seafood, it is typical not to use the word 肉 (meat) in the noun, as in 吃鱼, 吃虾, 吃鸭. Likewise, there is little possibility of misunderstand that local food such as 鱼粥 (Fish Porridge) or 虾面 (prawn noodles) will be misunderstood as 鱼吃的粥 (Porridge eaten by fish) or 虾吃的面 (noodles eaten by prawns) simply because the word 肉 (meat) is not used.

The writer then mentions that the phrase 海南鸡饭 is easier and smoother to pick up, compared with the more bulky 海南鸡肉饭, and has a certain kick that is missing in the latter. As such, 海南鸡饭 is more easily accepted at the layman level instead of 海南鸡肉饭. The evolution of the phrase 海南鸡饭 is therefore more colloquial and situational, rather than from any real scholastic reasoning of meaning and phrase structures.

The next example given of colloquial development of the vocabulary is 肉骨茶 (Bak kut teh). The question always asked: Where is the 茶 (tea) in 肉骨茶 (literally - meat bone tea)?

The dish consists of meaty pork ribs simmered in a complex broth of herbs and spices, introduced by early Hokkien and Teochew immigrants to boost their health. The dish was usually accompanied by 工夫茶 or Chinese “gongfu” tea to get rid the oiliness of the dish after consumption. As such, 肉骨茶 is actually formed from the abbreviation of two phrases 肉骨汤 (pork ribs broth) and 工夫茶，a Chinese acronym of sorts, if you will.

The moral of the story then (or as far as I can interpret), is that when it comes to words and phrases, there is really no absolute right or wrong. The use of 海南鸡饭 and 肉骨茶 does not necessarily point to a poor command of the Chinese language on Singaporeans’ parts if one considers the local development and colloquial context. China herself likewise abounds with abbreviated phrases that are totally meaningless and sometimes ridiculous if taken out of context.

Interestingly, not so long ago, some friends were discussing the use of the phrase “Bak kut teh” in Malaysia for their newly created halal version of the original dish, using chicken meat instead of pork ribs. Muslims in Malaysia objected to using the name as they inferred that the phrase “Bak kut” refers to pig bones and may give the impression that it is acceptable for muslims to partake in pork.

A friend felt that, strictly speaking, the words “Bak kut” or its Chinese equivalent 肉骨 (literally – meat bone) makes no reference to pork as being the meat source. It could therefore be interpreted that other sources of meat, such as chicken, could also be used for the dish without any change to the name, and hence there was no real reason for the objection.

However, if we consider the traditional use of the word 肉 (meat) in the context of Chinese cuisine, 肉 is almost synonymous with pork (肉圆, 肉脞面, 烧肉 etc). This can be explained by the fact that pork has traditionally been the main meat source for the Chinese race. This point was also observed in the Lianhe Zaobao article. If we consider the phrase 肉骨茶 or “bak kut teh” in this context, it appears that the Malaysian muslims may have a point, after all.

Anyway, the evolution of the names may not be academic in nature, but this discussion definitely is. In the meantime, whether it be chicken rice or rice for the chickens, I am sure the accuracy, or lack thereof, in the naming of our most famous dish will not prevent anyone, local or otherwise, from enjoying the dish for its own goodness.

CHOOSING FEMININITY

2010-03-19T21:29:00.000+08:00

An anecdote from work today: One of the young lady engineers came back from site with a request from the site project manager for a personnel change – to a male engineer. His reason, as he told the young lady – “Because I can’t yell at you.”

I remember times from my own rookie days, when I encountered old salt type contractors and project managers and even clients, who had to almost physically restrain themselves from yelling at me when things went awry. I was quite sure then that if I had been male, I would have gotten it with both barrels blasting.

The thing is, these guys are neither misogynists nor chauvinists in any way. They don’t dislike us or think we will not be able to perform just because we are female. They are just that rare old breed of men who do not think it is gentlemanly to indulge in certain behaviour towards a lady. I have managers, who even now, will apologise formally before or after swearing a blue streak in front of me because “there is a lady present”, to quote their own words.

I am always put in a dilemma when faced with these guys. On one hand, I am happy to take advantage of the special treatment. No one likes to be yelled at under any circumstances. On the other, I feel like I have broken some unwritten rule of the Feminist Code. I feel like I should step up and ask to be yelled at, if only to balance things.

When all’s said and done, I have to admit that I like the preferential treatment. It tells me that I am a lady, and I shouldn’t forget femininity in the pursuit of feminism.

We can have our cake and eat it.

GIVING UP

2010-03-19T21:28:00.002+08:00

I made one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make in my whole life till now and have officially informed my manager that I will not be completing my company sponsored MSc course. I see the company HR manager next week to discuss further options, and most probably, compensation to the company.

The various managers had been on my back for the last few years regarding this. Yes, it has taken me a few years to not complete the course. The arguments for continuing are quite obvious, I have finished all the coursework modules, and only owe a few assignments and an 80,000 word dissertation. It should have been relatively easy to bulldoze through it and just pass and get the certification. Certainly, it would save me a fortune in paying back the sponsorship, considering that I have more than served my bond already. Dropping the MSc would also lower my standing in the eyes of the management and disappoint the managers who had nominated me in the first place. And I lose a chance at the Masters degree, which, in today’s society, is becoming more of a necessity than a luxury.

One of the main factors which actually prevented me from giving up even earlier was pride and an innate competitive nature. Several colleagues have graduated with their degrees. Several more are going to. It strikes hard at my ego to end up less paper qualified than my peers, and for a while this kept me trying, but ultimately, it was not enough.

I don’t think I will change my mind. Because I know I won’t finish the course no matter what.

I don’t like to think of myself as a quitter. I never have. But it seems that I have to take my head out of the sand, and admit that this time, I get the “Quitter of the Year” trophy.

I was not expecting this immense wrench though. I thought I would be relieved to get rid of this burden that had been riding on my back for years, and which was always popping up to spoil the perfection of any happy moments I had. I thought I had prepared myself to make whatever compensation I needed to, that I would feel the payment worthwhile to be free again. But it didn’t happen this way. It is hard to describe the sense of failure that pervades me, especially coming on the heels of all that happened at work the last few months.

It will never be something I will ever think about with pride. In fact, I suspect that wrench is always going to be there. But once I get the formalities over and done with, I will do what I do best, bury it all in the ground, and pretend it never happened. Game over…….Start new game.

LIVING WITH PAIN

2010-03-19T21:27:00.002+08:00

I have struggling with some chronic pain these two weeks past. Thankfully it has ended just as suddenly as it came. It is something that has bugged me since my teens, and which had escalated from mild discomfort to pain of the stop-everything-you-are-doing-and-pant type in the past few months. My doctor recently diagnosed the problem as something physiological, and she tells me there is no cure for it. It is something I will have to live with for the rest of my life, and it is likely to get worse as I grow older.

I have tried to not let the pain affect my life very much as of now. Most of the time, the pain is something I can accommodate. It is only those few days and nights when the pain reaches its peak that I may perhaps walk very much slower, be less active, have a few broken nights of sleep etc. Still, the thought of having to live with something chronic and uncontrollable for the rest of my life is rather scary.

It made me think about those people whose lives have been reduced to moaning on the bed from terminal illnesses. I remember this old lady who had the opposite bed when I was hospitalised last December, and who was suffering from some really painful disease and some kind of dementia. She couldn’t speak and could only make sounds. It was horrible to listen to her heart-rending moans, which continued on-and-off through the one day and night I was there, and the worst of it was knowing that there was nothing much anyone or anything could do to relieve her misery.

I told SB before that maybe we should consider moving to somewhere where euthanasia is legalised when we get old and if we are both unmarried and without our own families. The thought of a life spent on the bed with nothing but debilitating pain for company is really, really scary. I would really like to know that a way out is available. I am not afraid of death (well…not really), only of the process of dying.

In the meantime, I am definitely nowhere near that point, and I did chide myself for taking a tangent along that kind of line. But I will still be checking out immigration laws for the Netherlands….just in case.

PRE-ANNIVERSARY THOUGHTS

2010-03-14T19:51:00.000+08:00

I will be 32 in about two week’s time.

I remember the feeling of excitement and new hope as I approached my 30th. It was the same year that I lost the many kilograms that had weighed me down physically and mentally, the year that I felt reborn and thought that the things which I had missed out on in my teens and twenties would finally come to me. I remember the bewilderment and panic of my 31st year, when changes did occur but somehow things did not turn out the way I had envisioned.

I approach this 32nd anniversary of my birth with none of those feelings which plagued me before. It is like I have stopped looking through glasses, both rose and blue coloured. My prince may not come. That is fine. With all the news of men and their marital affairs abounding, both public persons and people in my immediate circle of aquaintances, I am not really sure if romantic relationships and marriage are too much overrated anyway.

I am not sure whether to call it cynicism or jadedness, or is it simply acceptance of reality. I do not like either, the former reeks of bitterness while the latter is imbued with a sense resignation, neither which I particularly feel now. It is something else that I cannot put a word to.

There is this sense of peace and internalisation of the way things are in my life right now, and the way things will be thereafter. And even if there will not be the delirious highs of happiness, there is at least contentment. And contentment is, after all, all that I really wanted out of this life.

I will probably feel differently on my 33rd, 34th, 35th……and every year thereafter that pass. Female hormones will probably make sure of that. It will keep life interesting for me and the people around me, I guess. But for now, I think it is ok if I stop thinking further and enjoy whatever contentment is offered.

On a more cheerful note, I decided to get myself a really expensive present this birthday, seeing that my bonus is coming in at about the same time. I am always spending money on me, of course, but I can’t remember when I actually got myself a birthday present. Someone up there likes me, I think, because I didn’t even have to search for ideas.

A really nice messenger bag from stash, an Etsy shop first discovered by SB.

Or, a Sparrow Pendant from Swarovski…..

Now I never like to buy stuff that smacks of the Hollywood brand of commercialism, but this Alice in Wonderland replica just hit all the right spots. Yeah, beats me too.

I couldn’t really decide between the two, so I decided I will be getting both. The moolah is available, and I should really enjoy some of it while I am still young (comparatively) and pretty (very, very, very relatively).

Going shopping….

MAHJONG TIME FIRST EXPERIENCE

2010-03-14T15:27:00.001+08:00

I finally got my internet connection upgraded to a respectable 10Mps download speed (I was on 512kps previously). Friends were astonished that it took me so long to catch up with the times, but then that’s me, the technology dinosaur.

At any rate, I now have a respectable enough connection to play on Mahjong Time, one of the best places to play MCR rules online. I had my first real experience yesterday night, or rather early this morning. And I am sad to say that I was well and truly trashed. Out of 7 games played, I only won 1.

As far as I know, The Mahjong Time interface has recently been be updated, resulting in a much faster playing experience for the players. Good for most, but a disaster for me. In this world of i7 processors, I am but a meager 386. I also only realize exactly how slow my usual group has been playing.

Most of the time, I had hardly time to assess my tiles before I had to make decisions, and many times, the software bot ended up making them for me because I exceeded the set timing. And well, the decision making logic of the bots are somewhat similar to my father’s hair, which means there is hardly any. Needless to say, I spent most of my available time figuring out my own tiles, and hardly noticing the discard pool or other players’ melds. I remember only realizing that an opposite player was attempting a full flush hand after giving him/her the winning tile, despite three obvious melds on the table. I am sure I was not very popular with the other two players after that move.

It usually takes a while to get used to the playing interface when transiting from table play to online play, and probably vice versa. There were a few occasions where I ruined my hands because I had accidently clicked on the wrong tile, or clicked on the wrong action.

MCR on Mahjong Time has a rather Euro-centric audience, not surprising since the rule set is more popular in Europe than in other Asia mahjong strongholds, where local variants hold sway. This is why I started playing at close to midnight and ended at 4 am in the morning, as that is the period where most players are available, and spent all of Sunday in a sleep deprived haze.

That said, it was still a fun experience, and when all is said then done, playing online is better than no mahjong at all, for all the difficulties it poses for me. And I think it would be extremely good training for me – I really need to at least upgrade to a Pentium 4 even if an i7 is out of reach.

BREAKAGE

2010-03-12T23:27:00.000+08:00

One of my favourite necklaces fell apart at work this Tuesday morning, beads falling all over my work desk.

It was only a very minor thing. After all, we are not talking about million dollar pearl necklaces, only thirty dollar costume beads. Even if the beads couldn’t be re-strung, it was no biggie. In this consumer society, there would always be the next necklace.

Yet I was rather badly affected by this, for some reason. I couldn’t settle down to work for some time, thinking about it.

I hate it when my personal belongings call it a day due to unforeseen “accidents”. Due to space constraints, I take quite a bit of care to buy only stuff that I really like. I very quickly give or throw away stuff that no longer appeal to me, so each piece that stays with me is very close to my heart. When I retire my stuff due to “old age”, at least there is time for me to mourn a little, say goodbye and come to terms. I at least have the comfort that they have served out their lifetime and there is no waste. When sudden breakages like that happen, it feels like a sudden death in the prime of life. I hate the waste. I am inconsolable.

There is also the feeling that something irreplaceable has been lost. There will be many other necklaces, maybe even one of those million dollar pearl ones. But there will never be this one again.

And there is always something about threads breaking and sending beads clacking all over surfaces. I must have watched too many drama serials, but scenes like this (in slow-mo no lest) always signify something tragic – broken relationships, deaths etc etc. I continue to hear the “clack clack” of the beads over my keyboard, table, see them falling to the carpeted floor, and I feel very, very sad, and there is this heavy feeling in my heart as if something omnimous is about to happen.

Touch wood.

RANDOM

2010-03-12T23:24:00.000+08:00

Recent random thoughts:

1) I wish we could somehow make it compulsory for all the top managers in the company wear cow bells, or something, so that they cannot sneak up on one. I believe that the company sends all the top managers for some training in tracking, so that they are all able to tread soundlessly and check up on all their employees. And that is why females have a hard time in top management, because we all wear high heels. My subordinates can probably hear me “click-click” from about a mile away.

2) The weather sucks. I think there should be some kind of global rotation program that allows me to spend half the year in cold weather and give some of those sun-lovers in the West a chance. What is the use of globalization and having a “global village” concept anyway if I can’t visit my “neighbours” when I want to?
3) The papers had a section on child rearing/discipline methods last Sunday. Personally I don’t really care what methods parents use. I just wish parents would make sure that their children are housebroken and trained before bringing them out into public. No running around uncontrolled, no barking…er….shouting/yelling/howling, no stepping all over my pristine shoes and dresses. And no poking into my cupboards and drawers and belongings when visiting my house! Honestly, pets are better behaved in public than children these days. And they don’t make rude comments about strangers either.

4) Reading financial news these days makes me think I should invest in…..a strong, stout mattress to keep my money in.

5) Young men should be put on a leash from age 18 to 28. And have a sign that says “Warning – Have no self control”

6) I have thinking a lot recently about Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. To me, it is the one theory to rule them all. It seems that everything I read about, think about, debate about, worry about, can ultimately be traced back to it. I think I need to set up a Facebook fan page.

7) I love looking at my display magnets on my workstation partition. There is one particular one that says “I would love to help you but I don’t do brain transplants.” I cannot recall the number of times when I have been tempted to shove that particular magnet in the face of the various people who have visited my desk.

KARMA WITH A BITE

2010-03-12T23:22:00.000+08:00

I used to have a lot of difficulties gathering information for reporting purposes, because whatever systems I put in place for updating were never religiously followed, and certain people didn’t care, because after all, they were not the one facing the bosses. To them, these procedures were just time wasting exercises, and many were the grumbles and flat out refusals when I pressed them to abide by them.

So often, I had to scramble around and use all my ingenuity to get as much information as I could and make up convincing numbers. I kept myself sane thinking “Wait till it is your turn” thoughts.

Happy am I that it is no longer part of my scope to worry about this.

Last Wednesday morning, I had the fun of standing by and watching these other people who didn’t care, scramble around to get the proper numbers for reporting, after not keeping up the updating of the system for months. In the end, they had to tell the boss that they couldn’t get the information, as if the boss cared. The expected reply “I don’t care how you do it, you get me the numbers.” They are still scrambling.

I love it when karma works in my favour.

MONEY MAKES ME GO ROUND

2010-03-12T23:21:00.000+08:00

There was an announcement at work this week about our upcoming variable bonus. It is going to be a very, very generous bonus, the highest that has ever been paid out in years. Apparently the company has done very well last year, even in the face of a world wide recession. And what is more, according to a very reliable source, next year’s bonus is already more or less confirmed at similar levels if no major incidents occur.

And then this morning, we received our share option entitlement for this year, which will make me a few thousand dollars richer at today’s prices. And I have more shares coming in the second and third quarters. I have my funding for my WMC trip already.

It is just as well that I have decided to stay put after the department re-organisation gave me a breather with regards to my job scope, and my new boss is leaving me alone for most part. I wonder if I could have made myself leave even if things had not changed at work, in the face of all that money, despite whatever grand decision I had come to previously.

I feel somewhat ashamed of being a whining hypocrite – complain, complain, complain, until money is thrown in my face and then I shut up for a while, and then continue to complain, complain, complain. I wish I had more of a backbone and a character. I wish I could prove that money is not the be-all and end-all of things by my own actions.

Anyway, it seems that whatever motivates or demotivates me, I will at least stay around for the next two years to cash in on the various monetary rewards. And then I would be receiving my 10 years long service award, so I may as well stick around for that.

And after that they will throw more money at me, and I will continue the cycle – complain, complain, complain, take money, complain, complain, complain….

CHARMING ASIA – WEST WINDS

2010-03-07T16:00:00.000+08:00

I had very much enjoyed the last West Winds performance I went to – Impressions of Japan, a superb performance. Therefore, I had no compunction whatsoever to attend their latest concert – Charming Asia. The theme of the concert needs no further introduction.

I found the first half of the concert somewhat wanting, in both programming and performance. West Winds did not exactly disappoint, but it was far from the performance I was expecting. The concert started with Charming Asia by Yau Yuen-Hing, Simon, which was somewhat akin to Japanese Graffiti meets Asia, and entertaining (in a rather corny way) only for the familiarity of the tunes. Arabesque by Samuel R. Hazo passed in a forgettable lump of sounds after a promising Scheherazade-like opening, but that was more attributable to the writing rather than any deficiencies in West Winds’ playing.
It got better after that with Philip Sparke’s Postcard from Singapore¸ featuring several local favourites such as Di-Taanjung Katong and Munnaeru Vaalibaa, which allowed me to indulge in a little nostalgia. I have always liked Philip Sparke and found his arrangement quite well done, if a little too academic and bland to be truly top notched. The first half ended with an old favourite, Alfred Reed’s Armenian Dances (Part 1). And like an old, familiar friend, whatever it lacked in awe-inspiring musical breakthroughs, it at least made up for it in nostalgic comfort.
The second half of the concert was conducted by the well-known Japanese composer Ito Yasuhide, and featured mostly his own works. Mr Ito is a more than competent composer and conductor, and the second half of the concert was a lot more interesting and entertaining simply by virtue of that. His self narration was both entertaining and enlightening, making up admirably for the lack of program notes. This is a gripe that EP often has. What is the point of having a program booklet without program notes, especially if there are feature composers, debut works, and special themes?

The band started of the second half of the concert with Ito Yasuhide’s The Earth. By his own explanation, the piece is both a reflection of his wish for world peace, and a dedication to the same. As an aside, the Japanese and their quest for world peace never cease to amuse me. 80% of Japanese students from elementary to graduate levels would tell you that their ambition is to join the UN and promote world peace. But if you ask them how they intend to go about implementing that, they have totally no idea. I applaud their nobility but have to shake my head at their naivety.

The next piece was Koh Chang Su’s Korean Dances, which was a challenging piece for both the band and the audience, and both got through reasonably well, for all there were a few precarious moments. The next two pieces were both arrangements by Ito Yasuhide, Taiwanese Posy and the newly commissioned Bengawan Solo, my favourite pieces by far for the whole concert. Taiwanese Posy featured a collection of twelve Taiwan aboriginal melodies in five movements. The piece was highly representative of all sides the Taiwanese aboriginal music, from what I could tell, and his signature arrangement of interweaving melodies and musical relays from instrumental section to section worked very well for this piece. For Bengawan Solo, I was relieved to find that he had stuck to a very simple arrangement style, featuring mainly jazz and march movements, which suited the whole spirit of the original music very well.

Compared to the last concert I attended, West Winds sounded a lot less polished and prepared this time round. Tuning issues, messed up entries etc kept cropping up. Instrumental soloists were less than stellar. The lower brasses, especially the trombone section, sounded weak and muddied, and were especially ineffective when it came to Ito Yasuhide’s arrangements where there were plenty of musical relays – the lower brasses kind of dropped the baton. In my opinion, The Earth would have benefited a lot from a better lower brass section, and it was somewhat torturous listening to the Tuba/Double Bass solo in Korean Dances (or was it Taiwanese Posy?). For want of a better analogy, it sounded like a dying hog groveling in the mud. Not a very pretty picture.

At the other end of the spectrum, we were very much impressed with the French Horn section. With the exception of a few intonation problems during the first half of the concert, they did marvelously. Great tuning, great tone, relatively clean execution, and fearless playing. There are few French horn sections in the local amateur wind band scene able to match. I personally thought the Saxaphone section did quite well also.

A word about the Master of Ceremony. I have no idea who wrote his script, but it would have benefitted from some vetting and editing with regards to the English used.

In general, I thought the handling of the pieces felt rather heavy handed. I could not feel the delicacy and exotic flavour that should come across in such a theme. Part of it might have been due to the way the pieces were written, but I felt that a smaller ensemble and a lighter touch could have done a better job. Nevertheless, I consider the performance another job reasonably well done by West Winds. If it did not hit the heights, there were no major lows either. It was an entertaining night when all’s said and done, and I look forward to another concert soon.

TRICK OR TREAT?

2010-03-06T10:53:00.000+08:00

Someone from AIA called me at work earlier this week to offer me an interview for a management trainee. I turned down the offer of the interview on the suspicion that it was some sort of play to get me to attend some sales push. There were just too many things about the call contents which did not add up.

This reminds of me of a column I read in the Lianhe Zaobao last Sunday. It was about this guy who was contacted by a long lost classmate on Facebook and invited to have dinner with her. So he has all these fantasies about this beautiful lady, whom he recalled as being extremely popular during school days. He goes for the dinner and finds out that she had invited several other people along, all of them other classmates from various stages of her school life. It turned out that she was involved in this multi-level marketing (MLM) scheme and was using Facebook to net these old classmates as potential customers. The dinner was just a sales pitch, and this guy and his fellow dinner mates felt obliged to buy something since she had just given them a dinner treat. Jackpot.

A similar thing happened to me some years ago. A University classmate invited some of us to a class gathering for our University class at her place. When I reached her place, I was shocked to find all sorts of strangers at our class gathering, and only two other ex-classmates. And yes, we had all been tricked into attending a MLM sales pitch. When I talked to these other strangers, I found out that they had all also been invited under various other pretexts.

A neighbour once invited my mother and several other neighbours in our block to her place for a small gathering and movie session, ostensibly for the purpose of getting to know each other better. When my mother got there, it was to find several members of this neighbour’s self group in attendance and the “movie” was actually a religious production. Enough said.

I think it is extremely sad that things have developed to a stage where it becomes difficult to give people the benefit of the doubt. If even friends can ignore the potential damage to friendships by doing such things as I have described above, then what other scruples do strangers and profit oriented companies need to have?

SOME WMC 2010 RAMBLINGS

2010-02-26T23:47:00.001+08:00

Step One - Register for World Mahjong Championship 2010 Netherlands. Check.

One small step on the PC, one big step for EP and me.

I had a little thrill when I went to the page on the WMC website list of registered players and saw the two Singapore flag symbols amongst all the rest. I know we are not on any official mission here, but a competition like this always bring out the patriot in one.

It is going to cost us both a whooping 300+ Euros just to play for this championship, not counting all the other costs like airfare, accommodation etc. We are not exactly complaining, but man, am I glad that the Euro is down against SGD at the moment, though I think the Europeans are probably not too happy about it.

And for once in my whole working life, I am wishing and hoping and praying that the company does not send me on any trips anywhere during the competition period. I don't care even if it is an all expenses paid two-week trip to Norway. Please, whoever is up there, just help me out a bit here.

MCR DISCUSSION - OUTSIDE HAND

2010-02-21T15:17:00.000+08:00

I have not done MCR hands analysis in a while, mainly because we have hardly been playing, and also because we were mostly past the stage of experimentation and settled into a comfortable rut. Anyway, I thought it was about time I started using my brains a bit more and instincts a little less, now that I have a goal to work towards.

For the last two sessions that we got going, I noticed myself trying to make a lot more "Outside Hands". I tended to avoid this hand in the past as a beginner, as it is valued at only four points, and finding the other four points to go out was rather challenging for me, as I did not like to keep track of numerous small scoring fans. The fact that I am now trying this hand out more often, and finding enough success at it, tells me that I have matured somewhat as a player, and I am really happy to have another playable hand to add to my repertoire. I should also thank WJ for inspiring me to try this, because this is one of her favorite hands to do, and I learnt quite a bit from analyzing her hands.

A typical starting hand for “Outside Hand” could be:

In the past, I would have worked very hard to move this hand into one of the mixed suited chows, all types, or even pure straights. A lot would have depended on the luck of the draw, since the hand obviously lacks a lot of the critical tiles for these hands. It usually took me a long time to get ready, and I hardly ever won the set with such strategies.
It was not as difficult to find the other four points as I thought. I typically approach "Outside Hands" as a mainly chow based hand. With increasing number of pungs of terminals and/or honours, it became more worthwhile for me to go for “All Terminals and Honours” or even “All Terminals”. For a chow based hand, it should be easy enough to get two or three points from a 123X 789X – 123Y 789Y combination , X and Y being any two of the three suits. Together with “All Chows”, eight points should be easily achievable. Other common fans which may be combined for the eight points are “One Voided Suit”, “Pung of Terminals or Honours”, “No Honours”, “Concealed Hand” etc.

It seems to me a reasonably flexible and fast hand to make when the starting conditions are right. I will definitely be trying this out more often. And as I start playing hands with smaller scoring base fans like this, I hope to be able to start making composite hands with more and more ease. When I can do that, I have reached the next level of the game, in my own opinion.

WE ARE GOING TO THE WMC 2010!

2010-02-21T12:49:00.001+08:00

Ok, that is, if we complete our registration, pay up on time, and no major hiccups occur between now and August 2010. I am crossing all my fingers and toes and everything else. But otherwise, yes, we will be playing mahjong with the rest of the world in Utrecht come August. SB will be scolding me for tempting the fates by announcing our advent out loud before it has even been confirmed.

I am actually feeling very much intimidated at the thought of playing in an international tournament like this. Now that things are moving forward, I am starting to question whether I am actually ready for this step after all. But, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Well, there is always EP, so even if I end up at the bottom, no one can say that Singaporeans cannot play mahjong properly.

And now, I have about a thousand things to do. Get a proper photograph of myself, earn money for the trip, and upgrade my internet connection so that I can train my ass off online before the tournament. A placing of 200 out of 220 is all I am hoping for. Surely not too much to ask, right?

CLEAN YOUR HOUSE, MADAM?

2010-02-21T12:48:00.001+08:00

During my marathon with The Style Network, I came across this reality show “Clean House”, where the hosts and crew helped people, well, clean house.

And did those houses need cleaning out! I realized there is hoarding and there is hoarding. Living in those houses was the equivalent of living in a junkyard, albeit without those creepy crawly friends (I assume). And people actually lived like that for years at a time! Invariably, the hosts reported that family tensions were strong in these households.

Now that I can attest to. It brings back memories of the last one year in our old flat. We were far from the condition of the houses in the show, but our collective hoards were getting too much for our four-room HDB flat. And we were all neat and organization freaks of one kind or another. We were having tiffs every other day about whose junk was to blame for the untidiness in the house, and whose junk to throw out to make space. My books got the vote from Mum, I thought Dad’s books and liquor collection could go since he hardly even read the books and we were losing the XOs and Hennessys to evaporation anyway. Dad thought Mum had too much china and other housekeeping odds and ends etc etc. And SB was freshly back from Japan with trunks of clothes and books and nowhere to put them. She lived out of boxes for a record number of months. And both SB and I contemplated moving out.

I don’t know whose idea it was to get a new, bigger place for all of us, but that was what finally solved the problem and made us all one happy family again. But we also recognized that we couldn’t continue our various hoarding in an unlimited manner, so we have been very careful to cull our belongings regularly, which makes our relatives, my father’s foreign workers and our domestic helper very grateful. I think the most triumphant moment was when Dad decided to throw out his small appliance collection last year. This consisted of orphaned and/or broken remote controls, spoilt handphones (some dating back 10 years) and their chargers etc etc, carefully bubble wrapped and kept away. Dad used to take them out once a year, carefully dust them and put them away again. He refused to say why he wanted them, but I always thought he intended them for purposes related to future alien visits. Anyway, he finally threw them out last year with a lot of reluctance, but I think he felt a kind of martyred virtuosity after the fact, which we allowed him to enjoy.

I think I have the easiest time of it in the family, since I am not as disposed towards sentimentality and thrift. I seldom keep anything that does not serve a practical purpose, such as ornamental displays. That said, I am not totally devoid of useless hoards. I re-discovered these during this year’s spring cleaning:

Manuals of defunct computer games. I don’t play these games anymore, but these make excellent reads, especially those Maxis ones. My favourite ones have to be the SimCity 2000 and SimTower ones, and I still read them now and then for entertainment. They don’t write them the same these days.

I’m a Lego kid. Only a Lego character smiles while lying on a stretcher. Don't they make you smile too? If I had my own place, I would so have an entire Lego village laid out.

Yes, I do blow my own trumpet. This was my coming of age present from my parents, which now sits in splendid isolation, and taken out and polished once a year only. I have not totally abandoned the possibility of playing again, if I could only find somewhere with no teenagers and no KPI of X performances a year.

I know that SB is having major worries about her hoard when she comes home after four years. I will be standing by to see the show. Perhaps we would have to call in “Clean House” after all.

LIFESTYLE MAKEOVER

2010-02-21T12:43:00.001+08:00

I spent most of the Chinese New Year break lazing around and generally being a couch potato. It helped that Starhub cable TV had a promotion during the period where we could access all the channels for free. I was kind of stuck on one or two lifestyle channels most of the time. In fact, I did a Style Network marathon for fourteen hours straight. Quite a record for me.

I love lifestyle shows, especially those makeover shows, whether home or personal makeovers. I guess it kind of gels in with all the various changes that I have been undergoing in various aspects of my life for the past two and a half years. Now that I have reached a place where I am, if not completely happy, then at least reasonably content, I am curious to watch others just embarking on their journeys and find out where they end up. There is a sense of emphathy, relevance and even nostalgia. In a way, I am also trying to measure my own process against other people. Did I do as well? Are there things I can learn from these people and the experts advising them?

Unfortunately, if I were to be really honest, a big part of the enjoyment is also derived from the “I am better than you” syndrome, what they call the “Jerry Springer” effect. I understand this is what drives a lot of reality shows. Biggest loser – I am glad I am not THAT fat. How do I look – Wow, I have better dress sense than THAT. Not very nice of me, but well, a pick-me-up is a pick-me-up, I guess I won’t quibble how I get it.

Now, if only I could find a show which involves people in really lousy job situations. That would really make my day.

CHINESE NEW YEAR EVE 2010

2010-02-13T14:49:00.001+08:00

This post is for SB. We miss you girl.

Fresh, crisp bedsheets on my bed in the colour that we both love.

Red packets on the “garden” plants swinging merrily in the wind.

“War” preparations in the kitchen before the Reunion Dinner.

CNY Offerings to ancestors (part of the Reunion Dinner spread) – Braised Pig Trotters, Steamed Chicken, Fried Beancurd, Abalone etc etc. And we get to eat them later too!

Some Chinese New Year goodies. Not so much this year.

Another “war” preparation zone zone – prayer offerings for later tonight.

More festive looking plants. The TV is on China’s CCTV-4. Dad likes to remind himself of his Chinese roots.

Happy Chinese New Year

THIS IS HOME, SURELY

2010-02-13T14:36:00.000+08:00

In the recent Economist Intelligence Unit’s annual liveability survey, Singapore was ranked 53 out of 140. To be sure, it was an interesting study, but only in an academic sense.

It is hard to apply liveability in such cut and dried terms, because much of it on the ground ties in with emotional attachment. SB should be a lot happier in Tokyo (which ranks 12th), but I am sure she would be on the first plane back home for good, if she had any way of making it so.

And home is the key word.

No matter how high or low a country ranks in studies like this, home is always No. 1.

WATCHING THE SHOW LIVE....MWAHAHAHA....

2010-02-11T14:02:00.000+08:00

The department restructuring is still on-going, and the senior managers are still discussing and planning the changes for manpower movement. The rumour mills have never been more active. Everyday, I hear something new. Now that my fate has been decided, I am standing by most eagerly to see who the next casualty(s) is. I regret to say that there is almost a malicious glee in anticipating the next howls or protest from my affected colleages. After all, misery loves company, and I do not see why I should be the lone sufferer of this whole farce.

I still think this whole restructuring is a joke. After all, I was involved in the re-engineering process that gave birth to this re-structuring and I guess I have enough wits about me to see exactly how serious the participants were about the whole process. Frankly, I don't even think the process itself is applicable to the company as a whole, but who am I to say otherwise. This is like watching a trian heading towards a wreck and being able to do nothing abut it.

I never thought I would have a "Dilbert Story" to tell one day. Scott Adams hypothesised in one of his books that a company always promote the least intelligent and most technically handipcapped person to management when given a choice, because you need the good guys to continnue running the show below, and these are the only ones who can be spared. For once, I am feeling the truth of the statement, myself included in one of those unqualified in-duh-viduals who got promoted to a position I was not equipped for.

Maybe I am just being pessimistic. Maybe I don't have that "helicopter view" that all managers need to be equipped with (which kind of reinforces the point above). Maybe it will all work and we would be looking at a whole year's bonus next year. At any rate, this is good entertainment for the time being and the only good part about being the first one to receive the bad news. When one is so down, everything else can only look up. It is also going to give me a really superior feeling to tell those affected guys later that I know how they feel, because, hey! I went through it twice! I mean, look at me, the original victim. Oh, I am so going to play it for all I am worth. I am so bad and that makes me feel really, really good.

Have a happy Chinese New Year?

Oh yeah.....mwahahahaha.....

GRAMMAR CRINGE

2010-02-08T11:17:00.000+08:00

Alright, I admit, I am a language snob.

But seriously, am I really expected to sit through a 30 minute speech wholly peppered with gems like this one without cringing?

"If you takes up this jobs, you will find it very rewardful."

Sure, everyone makes the odd grammatical error now and then. I personally have lost count of the number of times I had to edit my own posts for grammar mistakes.

But this?

"It is a very good products. Every peoples who has use our products like it."

This is massacre, plain and simple.

A COLD EXISTENCE

2010-02-08T09:27:00.000+08:00

Who says we do not have seasons in Singapore? I am at present huddling in my thickest jacket in what feels like an approximation of winter, thanks to modern ventilation techniques.

We have a central ducted air conditioning system in the office, which is all about trying to please everybody and end up pleasing no one. Since we moved to this location close to four years ago, the system must have been balanced and re-balanced, fiddled and diddled with any number of times. At present, we are at this tolerable truce where half the office wallows in a comfortable temperature, while the other half freezes. Well, tolerable to some people, but in a tropical country, the hot people always win. The argument is that you can always put on more clothes, but you can't go around naked.

Unfortunately, I am sitting in the freezing section.

Some of my colleagues come to work armed with winter jackets, which just underlines how ridiculously cold this part of the office is. I consider myself to be extremely heat-phobic and reasonably resistant to the cold, but it is too much even for me. I refuse to succumb to a winter jacket because it is just too ridiculous to contemplate, and also for vanity's sake. So I continue to freeze, and pray for sunny skies, because it is the equivalent of Siberia in here when it rains.

The contrast between the freezing temperatures inside and the tropical heat outside makes for a grand challenge in dressing, because there are only so many layers one can put on before one resembles a penguin, and not in cuteness at that. It is a toss up whether I choose to bake in the heat or freeze in the air conditioning everyday.

So anyway, I have to stop typing now, because I need to sit on my hands while they thaw. Mittens cross my mind, but with already fat fingers, that will only mean a lot of use of the backspace button.

Thanks, but no thanks.

WHINE, WHINE, WORK, WHINE, WORK....

2010-02-05T22:33:00.002+08:00

I am tired of writing all these long, repetitive, whiny posts regarding my work issues. But real people will just listen to me so many times before they get sick it, so I can only keep whining here.

I received my confirmed transfer orders this morning. That’s another move for me in just over one year. And to a supervisor that I have no respect nor liking for, and have absolutely no chemistry with.

I really don’t know which is worse, working with incompetent subordinates whom I totally have no chemistry with, or with bosses whom I dislike. Either way, I am miserable.

The worst of it is that I remain in the same office with people whom I can and want to work with, and I see them going places, and being happy in the process and I am so jealous. I am going places too, in fact, I feel forcibly dragged to these places. The only difference being that I am so miserable in the process that I wonder if the place I get to eventually is worth all this unhappiness. The comparison between me and them is like salt to injury and sometimes I almost hate these people instead. I wonder if I would have been able to adapt to my new situations better if I did not have my ‘glorious’ past in my face all the time.

If I had known what was coming, would I still have accepted all those promotions years and years ago? I am apparently too senior to keep under-utilised which management think is the case if they did not move me. The thing is, I am also struggling with two very different beings inside me. One is ambitious enough not to want to give up the opportunities to greatness. The other is a complacent fellow who just wants to be comfortable in routine. So even if management really had been inclined to cold-storage me, I cannot say I will be totally happy about it.

I was actually asked if this move was an arrangement was something I could live with. I guess the top bosses were being democratic and I suppose they did not want someone unwilling in what may prove a key area of development for the company. The thing is, this change is not totally unwelcome. The scope of work is very interesting and offer lots of opportunities. It is just the fact that I have to work under someone whom I totally dislike that is throwing me off. And yet when the top bosses ask for my reservations, this is the one reservation that I absolutely cannot voice. And it is not as if I had been offered any better alternatives anyway.

Because this will be an important area of development, and because there is no one else who will be driving it full time, I now feel obligated to justify the trust that has been shown in me, and this kind of puts paid to my intention to just up and leave if things don’t turn out well by the middle of the year. I feel like one of those guys who got their girlfriends pregnant, and being made to take responsibility. I could probably just leave anyway, if I didn’t mind everyone thinking me a jerk.

Everyone just tells me to take it one day at a time. I have told myself the same. But doing that for a person like me is like asking me to walk the tightrope to nowhere and taking away the security net in the process. I don’t know where I am going, when I am going to fall, and where I may hurt myself.

There is, as usual, no answer.

CLOCK WATCHING

2010-02-03T15:51:00.000+08:00

When the single most important thought of a work day has become “It is 5.30 pm!”, it is time to do something drastic.

Which I did today. I put the computer clock display right in the middle of the 19” monitor screen.

Hurray for a subtle statement.

TGI FRIDAY

2010-01-29T22:50:00.000+08:00

It is FRIDAY night.

Life is a big rollercoaster because of everything that is happening, and not happening, at work. At 9 am on Wednesday morning, I drafted out one paragragh of my resignation letter, but after a good nap during lunch, I think I can stand to give the bosses another chance to keep me. On Thursday morning, some discussion on a new project goes on, and I think, man, this job is really quite interesting, why'd I want to give it up? The same afternoon, I decided to continue paragraph two of my letter after going through the list of people I could count on if a new project ends up on my desk.

It just struck me that I have worked eight years at this job, and by many standards that is a long time for a first job. They had me write some quotes for the company's 45th (?) anniversary publication and I will have a nice photograph to go with my words. It occurred to me that there might be a chance I would not be around when the book is finally published with my quotes on company spirit and how I enjoyed working there, and the irony amused me for a good while.

Anyway, it is FRIDAY night. The lousy work stuff will keep till Monday, more's the pity. I just had a nice saloon visit, followed by a good dinner. And am now lounging in the air-condition with the Archie comics that I got for SB's birthday/CNY care package. And I repeat, it is FRIDAY night, so for now I am at peace with the world.

Perhaps the dinner should have been less good. I am kind of ashamed at how much I have allowed myself to regain, even taking into account the operation and recovery. So I am struggling to get back on the exercise and diet wagon. But gosh, am I out of shape! Only 25 bodyweight squats on Monday, and I couldn't walk properly until Thursday!

The funny thing is that the same people at work who says I looked really good half a year ago, now says they think I look better plumper. There is this guy who actually told me I looked thinner, just by virtue of the fact that I had been to the hospital and all sick people should look thin. Which confirmed the fact that he never really did LOOK at me. Anyway, I think I have really nice colleagues who are so careful of my feelings. And despite the fact that I know they are not being truthful, I hope they will continue the streak. I appreciate the odd white lie now and then. I don't always believe in honesty being the best policy, and if you can't tell a lie, "silence is golden" works as well. Some times.

And so again, it is FRIDAY night. On Friday nights, I am the eternal optimist and the glass is always half full.

JUST ANOTHER DAY AT WORK

2010-01-27T09:06:00.000+08:00

Hopes dashed. Big guns have changed their minds, and I am to remain where I am. Alternative plans are also shaky. And so am I.

Struggling not to cry. The toilet beckons, but red eyes and nose will give the game away later anyway. I think it will be extremely unprofessional for me to break down in tears at my workstation. Why give the men more justification that women cannot perform because we are over emotional etc etc?

A stray tear insists on finding its way out of its home despite my stiff suppression. Surreptitiously wiped away. Smile. Oh, something got into my eye.

A persistant refrain hammers at my brain, “The hours pass so slowly, since they threw away the key.” Oh, Bananarama. Look at the computer clock. Only 8.45 am? Feels like a lifetime has passed. And the refrain hammers on.

Get on the internet. Browser opens at CNN.com. Read about Haiti. Read about Obama’s problems. Read about people killing other people. Continue to keep convincing myself that life now is REALLY, REALLY not so bad.

Feel better. Somewhat.

Looks at the tender specifications resting on my table. Read a few lines. Daydream.

Think: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. But what if I really, really hate lemonade?

I have no answer.

Get on the Internet again. Read more bad news.

The hours still pass slowly. It is only 9 am.

But at least the tears have stopped falling.

ONE PEOPLE

2010-01-24T15:26:00.001+08:00

Over in Australia, Mr Kuntz noted that lately, people tend to cite their nationality rather than ethnicity when responding to a question about ancestry.

"Belgian rather than Walloon or Flemish; Bangladeshi rather tahn Bengali; even Singaporean rather than Chinese," he said.

In the 2001 census, there were more than 21 times as many stating Singaporean as an ancestry compared with those who stated themselves as Singapore Chinese, he added.

So, ahead of the 2006 census, Singaporean was classified as an ethnic and cultural group in Australia, with large enough numbers to warrant that recognition.

(Extracted from "The Sunday Times" - Think Section, Jan 24, 2010, "How Countries Classify Race" by Goh Chin Lian)

I like that. I really, really like that.

Even though I will never put "Singaporean" down as my ethnicity (if that was really what the census asked for), but that is only because I am a stickler for accuracy in such situations.

And even though the cynical side of me did question whether the above was a fluke due to the questionable English language standards of Singaporeans in general. But I would like to give my people the benefit of the doubt in this case.

And even as I question the accuracy of the census query itself. If the word "ancestry" was used without other descriptions, it is really rather vague and open to interpretation.

Despite all the "even thoughs", I like what the above implies. It is nice to know that in certain quarters, we have "pledge(d) ourselves as one united people, regardless or race, language or religion."

Oh yes, I like that.

I BLAME YOU, IPHONE...

2010-01-24T15:05:00.000+08:00

I hate the current iphone, Nexus One and what-else-have-you craze.

Because it somehow got my Dad involved.

My dad is effectively only monolingual (Chinese), has no idea exactly what the World Wide Web involves, and whose claim to computer literacy is knowing how to press the Power button on his laptop.

Despite the above handicaps, he is convinced that he has all he needs to conquer the latest in smartphones, despite all the valid points SB and I put up against what we consider a useless investment.

All because all his old foggy friends have caught onto the craze and are somehow managing to manoever their iphones. And so he needs to look cool as well.

And it so happens that he hates to call up the telcos, because of 1) the maze that is the automated answering machine, 2) the operators mostly speak English, 3) he is too lazy to do it. And it so happens he refuses to go down to the brick and mortar shop to enquire, because he has no time for queues and he is too lazy to do it. And it so happens that he has no means of finding or ordering anything online, because online is about as far away for him as outer space.

And so it happens that the processes of researching, acquiring, learning to use said phone(s) fall upon one of his daughters, SB or me.

My dad is further hampered by

1) A large ego, which prevents him from going for lessons on computer literacy
2) A lack of patience and a bad temper
3) Some laziness, which prevents him from reading the manual by himself and figuring the basic stuff out.
4) Advanced age, which affects short term memory, cognitive processes, motor skills, hearing etc etc.

All of the above which doesn't make the triple processes above easier for either of us.

In addition, I am faced with

1) My own laziness
2) My own lack of patience
3) My own techo-phobia. Which is why I am NOT buying into all the smartphone craze myself

Which makes me extremely reluctant to carry out that triple process for my Dad.

In fact, I am so reluctant that I have already issued my own ultimatum, that if he insists on getting the phone, he is to get it himself, and learn to use it himself. I am not about to waste my time and energy just so he can look cool in front of his friends. If I wanted to go through that, I would go out right now and adopt a teenager.

However, this has not stopped him from what he considers is his fatherly authority and making me look up all sorts of things regarding the phones on the internet, and a somewhat straggling sense of filial piety is making me comply, despite very ungraciously. I hate this sense of daughterly obligation that he likes to make use of.

So yes, I blame Apple, and Google and whoever who is going to come up with the next one for the loss of my peace and tranquility.

What an irony to dragged kicking and screaming into the techno age, by my old foggy father. The very thought staggers.

AT PEACE.....SORT OF

2010-01-24T14:27:00.001+08:00

On my second day back at work, I was briefed about the major re-structuring/realignment exercise that would be taking place in the department.

In my books, change is a dirty word. In the modern society which embraces getting out of your comfort zone, innovation, and new technology, I am the anomaly. In earlier years, I would have been the manager who does not want the records to be computerised, the old foggy who thinks email is the invention of the devil.

I am most skeptical of corporate change engineering. Or strategic planning, or paradigm shifts. Maybe I just have been reading too many Scott Adams writings and his Dilbert strips (As an aside, if I could find a Dilbert in real life, I might just marry him on the spot). All the much touted re-engineering processes and methods just seem like so many money making scams by business consultants well versed in semantics, stating the obvious. The results seem to be a mixed bag from what I have seen so far.

Despite all my anti-change grouses above, this is one restructuring that I welcome, because it has opened up opportunities that would end my misery for the last one year. Things are still being settled though and any movement for me is still in the pipework. In a nutshell, it involves people who want me on their team, people who don't want me on their team, people who want me to be on the team I want to be, and people whose aim in life is to make sure I don't get where I want to go (just out of orneryness). It is a mish mash of push-pull factors which are currently rather balanced. I am just keeping all my fingers and toes and all crossable body parts crossed.

I would say that, on the whole, things are looking up. And I at least have alternative plan A and plan B in place, after all that soul searching. So, despite the upheaval at work, I am currently, to quote SB, "at peace...sort of".

MAMA....IT'S ALL OVEEERRRR!!!

2010-01-20T14:04:00.001+08:00

You know the little monster who cries and howl “It’s all oveeerrrr….” at the end of those “Just for Laughs” gag sequences? That’s exactly what I feel like doing this morning.

To be clear, I am having First-Day-Back-At-Work blues.

It should have been Monday really, but thanks to a strategically timed flu bug, my return was delayed by two days. I wish it had been H1N1. I am the only one I know who wishes to contract H1N1, dengue fever and any number of potentially deadly illnesses, just in hopes of escaping the inevitable. How despicable….how desperate.

I feel like I am committing mass perjury, as I smile at everyone and claim that it is nice to be back after all this time when in my heart of hearts, I am actually hollering “Nooooo…..”. And visit each manager’s office and assuring them that I am well (which I am) and raring to start work (which I am not). And discussing when I can get up to speed at work, all the time thinking I haven’t even gotten to the highway yet. The number of asides I have muttered to myself silently today!
And it is still a “honeymoon” period yet! I am at present occupied with the hundred and one unproductive and trivial tasks that one needs do when one has returned to work after a long absence – clearing emails, going through paper work, filing (oh, my favourite of all brainless tasks) etc. I predict this will last me until this week ends, and then I have to start doing the real work. And the fun begins, oh boy!

And so, I am now furtively typing away at blogger, keeping an eye over my shoulder (in case anyone creeps up on me and I have to do the Alt-Tab thing), trying to relieve my feelings somewhat so that I can continue with the whole pretense, without breaking down in hysterical laughter a la Fran Drescher.

SB reminds me that I need to pay for my European holiday this year somehow, so I better keep my nose to the grindstone (or at least keep up the pretense of doing so). The things we do for that occasional bout of gratification!

FREE SPEECH - REALLY "FREE"?

2010-01-17T16:04:00.000+08:00

'Well, well, I'll try and not mention it again since you're so sensitive. You must excuse me, Anne. I've got a habit of being outspoken and folks mustn't mind it.'

'But they can't help minding it. And I don't think it's any help that it's your habit. What would you think of a person who went about sticking pins and needles into people and saying "Excuse me, you mustn't mind it.... it's just a habit I've got" You'd think he was crazy, wouldn't you?'

(Excerpt from "Anne of Avonlea" by L.M. Montgomery)

These days, tact and diplomacy are on the way out. In fact, they have become the bywords for hypocrisy. Being in-your-face straightforward, honesty and free speech is in. And with the internet, one can become very in-your-face without physically being in anyone's face. Very convenient.

I have always had problems with individuals who profess to be outspoken and who like to "call a spade a spade". To be honest, I tend to avoid them like the plague. It is not only that they happen to be honest almost exclusively about stuff that people don't want to hear. It is also that a lot of them have the concept that free speech should literally be "free". Free of consequences, that is.

I am a firm supporter of discretion being the better part of valour. But while I personally think that some hypocrisy is necessary to keep civilisation going as we know it, I also accept that it takes all kinds to make up this society. I can respect the honest individual, as long as he accepts that there may be consequences to his honesty and deals with them in accordingly. This person is the one who says "I am only being honest but I also accept that you have a right to be angry with me."

The problem is that many of these supposedly outspoken individuals wield the honesty, anti-hypocrisy banners like some "Get out of jail free" card. These are the people who says "I am only being honest mah, why so angry?" They think the standard disclaimer of "I am very outspoken and honest one lah. So don't angry hor." entitles them to say whatever they want without being called on it. And if you do, it only shows that you are a over-sensitive, narrow minded prig who obviously have no concept of human rights and free speech. In my books, that is literally adding insult to injury.

"Time for the speeches," annouced the king (of Dictionapolis) as the plates were removed and everyone looked glum. "You first," he commanded, pointing to Milo.

"Your majesty, ladies and gentlemen," started Milo timidly, "I would like to take this opportunity to say that in all the ---"

"That's quite enough," snapped the king. "Mustn't take all day."

"But I'd just begun," objected Milo.

"NEXT!" bellowed the king.

"Roast turkey, mashed potatoes, vanilla ice cream," recited the Humbug, bouncing up and down quickly.

"What a strange speech," thought Milo, for he'd heard many in the past and knew that they were supposed to be long and dull.

"Fish and chips, raspberry jelly, chocolate pudding - p-u-d-d-i-n-g," said the Spelling Bee in his turn.

"Tomato soup, sausages, strawberry jam," shouted Officer Shrift from his chair. since he was taller sitting down than standing up.

And so down the line it went, with each guest rising briefly, making a short speech and then resuming his place. When everyone had finished, the king rose.

"Pate de foie gra, soupe a l'oignon, faisan sous cloche, salade endive, fromages et fruts et demi-tasse," he said carefully and clapped his hands again.

The waiters reappeared immediately, carrying heavy, hot trys, which they set on the table. Each one contained the exact words spoken by the various guests, and they all began eating immediately with great gusto.

"Dig in," said the king, poking Milo with his elbow and looking disapprovingly at his plate. "I can't say that I think much of your choice."

"I didn't know that I was going to have to eat my words," objected Milo.

"Of course, of course, everyone here does," the king grunted, "You should have made a tastier speech."

Milo looked around at everyone busily stuffing himself and then back at his own unappetizing plate. It certainly didn't look worth eating, and he was so very hungry.

(Excerpt from "The Phantom Tollbooth", by Norton Juster)

By the way, that is one of the consequences of practising free speech. If a little hypocrisy prevents consequences like this, I am all for it. I certainly don't like to eat my words anymore than Milo did. You can have them if you want.

MY HEART HAMMERS ON

2010-01-14T12:37:00.000+08:00

I can hardly bear to read the news anywhere in recent days. The Haitian situation is like a horror story with no happy ending in sight.

I wonder why it feels like a sacrilege to be sitting in front of my computer, fed and clean, safe and sound, while horrible things are happening on the other side of the world. Some higher being made the decision to plant me here; I had nothing to do with the decision, so why do I keep feeling like I am doing something wrong, and I should also be suffering somehow?

I have no answers. And so I run away. Click on the next news topic. Flip the pages quickly.

Ignorance is bliss, but for some reason I can't stop that little hammering at my heart.

I think that's called conscience.

BIKINIS AND BITCHING - THE S-FACTOR

2010-01-12T23:41:00.001+08:00

Some nights ago, I watched all eight episodes of MediaCorp's "The S-Factor" on Youtube in one go.

I know, I know, I am slow. It is probably the contrary streak in me, but I hate to do something when everyone else is doing it as well. I watched Susan Boyle's video only about a year after it first made waves on Youtube. So watching "The S-Factor" months only after everyone else has watched it and bitched about it to death, is nothing new in my books. Happens like that all the time.

Ah, yes, bitch. This is the critical word. But I am getting ahead of myself.

When the show first aired, the reviews were everywhere and they were so bad that I decided not to waste my time. Then people started to post clips of the pre-audition videos on Facebook, and I started to get curious. Just how bad was it anyway?

Sometimes, watching something after tons of lousy reviews is not a bad idea. I went into it with the lowest of expectations; I was anticipating something like Ris Low times ten, and was presently surprised. To say that these S-Factor girls are the creme de la creme of Singapore girls would be too much, but they are really not as bad as people made them out to be.

I have heard a lot about them, their (low) level of intelligence, looks, characters, even their command of English. Especially the last, which is pretty ironical, given the (not so impressive) language standards of the typical Singaporean. As a group, I thought the girls were reasonably smart, most were quite pretty, some were quite gorgeous, and in general pretty articulate and well-spoken. Sure, there is the odd fluff-head, some not-so-gorgeous babes, and a lot of bitchiness, but it is a reality show after all. The idea is to provoke and entertain. Wherein lies the entertainment if there is no bitching and no fodder for the bitchiness?

And so we are back to the central theme. Most people had a lot to say about the bitching and malicious back-stabbing etc going. And I have to say that I don't see what the fuss is all about. In fact, I have to confess that in my salad days (and even now), my friends and I gossiping together would have looked and sounded exactly like these girls in their bitching sessions, minus all that gorgeousness of course. I do not think things have changed so much that young girls these days are discussing world politics when they get together. Nor do I think that the gathering of housewives at my void deck are putting together a proposal for ending the famine on Somalia. The only difference is that the rest of us are doing it off national TV. So why so much objection to what is only reality? That only makes us out to be hypocrites. It is after all, reality TV.

Then of course, there is the group who worries about such content being shown on TV. Bad influence for kids, and worries that foreigners might think the girls representative of Singaporean girls, blah blah. The former, well, I have always been of the opinion that TV media (and school teachers) has taken the brunt of the blame for poor parenting, so I shall not comment further on this. The latter, lets just say that I think of these foreigners the same way I think of those who ask me whether Singapore is a province of China; basically I don't quite worry what these uninformed peons think. Then again, if only some of these girls are representative of Singapore girls! It wouldn't exactly make me unhappy to be classed on the same level as the smart, articulate and totally gorgeous Holly Jean.

If I had to object to anything, it would be the sheer inanity of the challenges that were put forward by the producers. If I had to doubt anyone's intelligence, it would be the ones who came up with the challenges. I have seen school orientation programmes with more flair and creativity.

Well, "The S-Factor" is no Emmy contender. I do think there are better things to spend my time on (like "The Biggest Loser", haha). However, it is by no means the piece of excretable material that some people have likened it to. And the girls who participated, are no more and no less than other girls of the same age, except that they can wear bikinis and the rest of us will look like muffins if we attempt the same.

That said, if I ever catch hold of that girl who made that comment about big butts in bikinis at Zouk-out......

TEACHING MAHJONG WORKSHOPS - AN EXPERIENCE

2010-01-12T22:30:00.003+08:00

EP had his first two basic mahjong workshops last weekend, and I went along for a gander.

The first workshop on Saturday wasn't quite well done, due to the small class size (only six persons) and a little lack of planning on our parts. The situation was further exacerbated by the fact that half of the class didn't seem very interested in the game in the first place. However, with the first workshop under our belts, we were able better to plan for the Sunday workshop, which had a much larger class, a more interested group and as a result, everyone had a better time.

A large proportion of the class were senior citizens, since they are also the main target group for this set of mahjong workshops. While EP had expected to run into language problems due to this, it wasn't as bad as we anticipated, since we are quite ffectively bilingual (by Singaporean standards, at least). What I ran into, however, were, poor short term memory, short attention span etc, all the issues associated with seniors generally.

I am no teacher material; I am too lacking in patience. I used to think teaching little kids were the ultimate challenge. It would take only this long before all their Whys, Whats, and Hows drove me crazy. I think teaching senior citizens mahjong may rank up there as well. For me at least.

Imagine this going on during the hands-on session, after EP had already gone through the basic theory with the class:

Senior Citizen: So, what is pung?
Me: Oh, that's when you make a set of three identical tiles. You have two have two of the tiles in your hand first...blah explain blah....
SC: Orh....ok, ok.

2 mins later

SC: How do you make a pung har?
Me: Oh, you have to have two identical tiles in your hand, and you....blah explain blah....
SC: Orh, yah, three of a kind, three of a kind....

5 mins later

SC: I have one (X tile) here, can I pung that (X tile)?
Me: No, sorry, you have to have two of them in your hand...blah explain blah....
SC: Oh yah, must be three....

2 mins later

SC: How to pung har?
Me: Like I said before, you....blah explain blah...
SC: Oh, ok, understand.

3 mins later

SC: Why I cannot pung har?
Me: Because, you need to have two identical tiles in your hand before....blah explain blah...
SC: Oh yah hor.

Rinse and repeat for entire two hour hands on session.

Please note there is no intention to make fun of senior citizens; but there is no denying that such issues do exist when seniors are involved. I have to be frank and admit it takes more than what I have to sit through all that class after class. It is therefore a very good thing that EP is the trainer for the workshops, with all his teaching experiences under the belt, and not I.

The above frustration aside, it was exciting to introduce mahjong to the group, and see people getting hooked on the game. It feels good when I hear the students comment that they finally understand why so many love the game. And I am sure it goes ten fold for EP.

EP has a few more workshops scheduled for the upcoming weeks, but we still want to make time for our own mahjong sessions as well, especially since we have our eyes on the big event later this year. I have all my fingers crossed; and toes too!

WHY CAN'T I?

2010-01-08T15:29:00.000+08:00

Some blogger whose blog I had been following just quit her job, and bought herself a ticket to Canada for a three months holiday. Several people around me have done the same, just minus the holiday.

Why, oh why, can't I just let go of the safety net, and do the same?

HAPPY TO GET MY HOSPITAL BILLS - REALLY!

2010-01-07T18:04:00.000+08:00

I just got my bills from the hospitals for my recent stays and surgery. And my suggestion to any Singaporean expecting such bills is to go online and read all you can about the state of the American healthcare system, and you will actually be happy to see your bills when you think about the alternative. No kidding, I really was!

Days before I received the billing, I had gone online and stumbled upon some forum discussion of the US healthcare system versus the European socialist nationalised system. From what I managed to read and researched online about both systems, Singapore is in a pretty good place as far as I am concerned, even if we do have junior doctors in the A&E who do not seem to know their injections.

During my visit to one of the hospitals recently, I happen to read one of those "kudos" letters that was posted on one of the hospital notice boards. It was from a French patient, who made the comment that the quality of Singapore healthcare as he experienced in that hospital exceeded that of his native country, which had the reputation of having the best healthcare system in Europe. Sure, it was only one person, and he was probably a loaded expat and could pay for all the best here, but still, receiving an accolade like this still means something.

So, for all my whines about lousy doctors and hospital experiences earlier, I still want to say, "Well done".

WAS IT WORTH IT?

2010-01-03T00:20:00.000+08:00

Why are some of the most beautiful pieces of music in the world also the saddest?

Will the world remember you
When you fall?
Could it be your death
Means nothing at all?
Is your life just one more lie?
(Les Miserables - Drink with Me)

Was it worth it then? Is it today? Will it be tomorrow?

MY PARENT'S LEGACIES AND OUR ONE DREAM

2010-01-02T01:18:00.000+08:00

My parents will never, ever be able to leave us legacies of millions of dollars. But SB and I will always thank them most gratefully for the legacies they did pass on to us, which have benefitted us so much, and enriched our lives like nothing else has done, before they even pass on. By this, I refer to our love of books and music.

Love of literature and music seemed to be bred in our genes. And my parents did all they could to nurture and encourage this love. My parents were voracious readers themselves, only financial constraints prevented them from being able to read more than they could. I never really remembered a time when I had gone without extra-curricular reading material since I learnt my letters. Even at our poorest, there was a trip to the library every so often. And if we kids could not make the trip for any reason, my mother went and picked out books for us. I think of some of the nonchalent, and worse, discouraging parents I encounter in bookstores these days, and I thank whoever is in charge that my parents are who they are. I have met parents who have refused their children story books because these interfere with their school work proper, and I know I will meet these children again in their future reincarnation as adults who will be unable phrase a simple email at work properly.

And my parents loved music. Dad played the percussion and the flute in the Chinese Orchestra when he was younger. I could hardly even talk when my mother taught me to sing. My father started me on the piano at age six, and all through my student years until I graduated from University, I played the trumpet in the band. When I was twenty one, I asked for my own trumpet for my coming of age birthday. Today, it gathers dust in the depths of my wardrobe, but I never forgot the thrill of making music, the beauty of a perfectly tuned chord, of playing the solos for Vaughn Williams' English Folk Song Suite, of knowing that those beautiful sounds originated from me. SB sang her way through life, through vocal chords damaged from acid reflux, and is still singing. Under very different circumstances, she might have made Broadway professionally, who knows?

SB and I have always had a common dream of running our own business that is somehow related to our first loves in life - books and/or music. We have talked about it forever, but seldom been able to really get a grasp on a realistic slant. So it has been more day dreams and idle talk than anything else. But recently, perhaps due to our respective discontent with our chosen pathways in life, we have started discussing more seriously.

Our germ of an idea involves a bookstore, dealing mainly in children's classics, which are being forgotten among all the new publications of today. I would also like to deal in hard-to-find, out-of-print publications, like my favourite Chalet School series. We both love our children's classics; they are classics because there is something about them that will not allow them to be forgotten in the minds of those who read them before. Classics are links between generations, a common topic, so to speak. These are the same stories our mothers read, and in some cases, our mothers' mothers and even further down the chain. Their loss would mean a discontinuity in the social fabric, however insignificant (This is a somewhat incoherent repeat of a quote from SB, who hopes to one day call herself a social scientist).

I did say I would love to own my own "Shop Around The Corner", didn't I?

It may just remain only a germ of an idea in our day dreams and never take off. But at our respective lowest points in our professional lives, having a dream like this is a life saver. We will, both of us, continue to read, and dream, read some more, dream some more, and maybe, just maybe, we will also one day have a legacy to pass on.

A NOT SO HAPPY NEW YEAR (AND SOME DIGRESSION)

2010-01-01T23:44:00.000+08:00

It is the first day of 2010.

I read about everybody's farewell to the old year, everybody's resolutions, hopes and wishes for the coming year. And wonder at my own apathy.

I seem to feel a little less at the advent of each new year. For this one, I seem to have shut down totally. Perhaps in the years past, there is at least the relief one feels at having the day off for much needed rest and relaxation, if nothing else. Since I have been at home for a whole month already, with another two weeks to look forward to, I don't even get that much this year. Happy New Year, but really, wherein lies the difference?

It is a really loathsome stage to get into at only thirty two. That's so young, yet I feel like I am ready for retirement. I think of the few good years before me yet, and there is this sense that I am wasting precious time sitting here, whining and not doing anything about it. But this lethargic, lazy thing inside me says "Chill". Enjoy the sheer aimlessness, laziness, etc etc while it lasts for circumstances will not allow it for much longer anyway. I am in the Doldrums and enjoying it so much that I do not want to get out of it. I need a watch-dog to come and get me out of this place. Wherefore art thou?

Speaking of the Doldrums and the watch-dog, "The Phantom Tollbooth" is my New Year re-read. I wish that someone would send me the toll-booth and allow me to take a trip to The Lands Beyond to look for the Princesses of Rhyme and Reason. Maybe then, like Milo, I will be able to return with a fresh interest in the world around me, and find again my enthusiasm and zest for life. I used to have them, I know.

Or at the very least, I would like to meet the Terrible Trivium, my favorite amongst all the monsters in the Mountains of Ignorance. I don't think he is so very terrible really, for there is something also soothing and comforting in petty tasks and habits. To quote the Trivium: If you only do the easy and useless jobs, you'll never have to worry about the important ones which are so difficult. You just won't have the time. Really, he just described my dream job and existence.

Frankly, if I had to give a Nobel Literature Prize to anyone, it would be Norton Juster for this very book. It is supposed to be only a children's book, but simple things are always the best. And in the current situation where even the so-called native English speakers have a hard time with their own language, I think adults will have a hard time with this book anyway. Which seems to be a key ingredient for a prize winning book these days.

I am digressing and getting incoherent. Best to stop here. And look for the road to the Castle in the Air. Because I think only Rhyme and Reason can save me now.

HEY MR PRODUCER

2009-12-26T12:52:00.001+08:00

There are always things that I seem to take an urge to do every so often, re-read certain books, re-watch certain movies (Lord of the Rings, oh yes) etc etc. Yesterday night, I was suddenly suffused with the longing to go through the three hour production of "Hey, Mr Producer" again, and so I did. Individual musicals themselves are very well, but there is nothing like a mega production like this to excite the senses. Such productions are possibly the only times when we actually see most, if not all, the big names in the industry on stage together. My only regret is that such productions are probably too expensive to bring to Singapore, and I will never have the chance to see them live. But, I can live with what I have.

Thanks to Youtube, I can share a few favourite parts with everyone else, without going into the agonies of description with my inept writing.

One of my favourite pieces of singing. I love the song and the sentiments that it presents. And Bernadette Peters is one of my favourite Broadway star. There is just something very special about her voice and this song is tailor made for her.

This is where I fell in lust with Hugh Jackman, Wolverine notwithstanding. This man can sing. To be multi-talented and good-looking into the bargain; the gods must have been incredibly unfair. Oh, what a beautiful morning? I would have thought "Oh, what a beautiful man" more apt.

Not quite a fan of Ellen Green and the Little Shop of Horrors, but the song "Somewhere That's Green" touched me, and especially since Ellen Green was already crying when she started to sing. One thing though, I spent the entire stretch in anticipation of certain parts of her popping out of her dress.

Some funny nonsense from "Tom Foolery". Gives me stitches everytime I listen to it.

And lastly, this funny tribute from Andrew Lloyd Webber and Stephen Sondheim to Cameron Mackintosh.

Oh, I do love musical theatre.

THE CHALET SCHOOL AND US

2009-12-25T16:10:00.000+08:00

Whenever school stories are mentioned, Enid Blyton's St Clare's and Mallory Towers series seem to come foremost to everyone's minds. Everyone of my generation that is. I am not sure what passes for this generation's youngsters' reading material, or if they even read at all.

We have read our share of Enid's Blyton's school stories and enjoyed them for most part. But after SB unearthed Elinor Brent-Dyer and her Chalet School series in a used-book store, we never looked back.

For the uninitiated, the fictitious Chalet School is a boarding school run along general English lines (we think) set in the Tirolean region (though at one point it got shifted to England, then Switzerland). The stories are set in the time period from the early to mid 1900's, and even went through one of the world wars. The school boasts of quite a varied student intake, considering the time period where it was written, so we were able to read about American, English and many, many other European student influences. There was even a book about a girl from Kenya (which we are missing).

If one has only ever read Enid Blyton's school stories, where the cast is all too standard and predictable (popular girl, pretty but brainless fluff, mischevious trick-playing girl, standard French mam'zelle who always falls for the tricks etc etc), the formidable characterisation that is present in the Chalet School series can only be an improvement. With sixty to seventy books in the series, a few decades of development, returning alumni and new-comers to play with, Elinor Brent Dyer was able to make Chalet school three-dimensional and alive. The books are interconnected by a general time line and certain common characters, but the books can be read alone without missing much flavour. It amazes us how much has been written about the school without us ever feeling if any part of the stories have been recycled.

The "international" aspect of the book, such as it was, helped with the characterisation. The unconventional Americans were fun to read, and made a grand contrast with the gentle, housewifely European girls, and the English girls making a nice in-between buffer. Yet, the differences were never exaggerated or over-the-top, there was never anything derogatory or offensively written (at least in all the books that we have read). Brent-Dyer did not seem to have touched on much which she was unfamiliar with. It all read in a most believeable manner.

We read that Brent-Dyer herself was a teacher and perhaps her own experiences came in handy. Her familiarity with the Austrian region was came through in all her books. I would not hesitate to say that the Chalet School stories which prompted the Tirolean region to be number one on my list of places to visit. I feel as if I could almost visualise the Tiern See and everyone of the places the students visited at half term. When I visited the Rhine Falls years back, my first thought was that the Chaletians had been there before me. That was how real the stories had been to me. Enid Blyton tried to create memorable school stories, but the Chalet School just was.

One thing which amused us much was the insistence on forbidding "slang" in the school. The idea was that the school wanted to teach English in its purest form to the foreigners, to whom English was learnt as a second language. And guess who were the ones who were always fined for speaking slang? You got it, the Americans. In that Elinor Brent-Dyer exhibited pure English pride. It also hit on us how much the language has evolved in the decades past, for what apparently constituted slang in those times, are perfectly acceptable these days. I never knew calling a person "beastly" was slang. I wonder what Brent-Dyer would think of Singlish.

Sadly, the series is already out of print. We got our few books all used. The local libraries do not appear to own any copies. In fact, the local libraries do not appear to have many of our most beloved children's classics, more's the pity. A search on the internet shows that a paperback copy of a Chalet School book costs around USD 20 bucks. Books do appreciate in value after all. SB is on a crusade to collect the entire series, cost be damned. To us, the books are priceless, but in this case, Mastercard works too.

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

2009-12-25T15:16:00.000+08:00

It is Christmas today. Merry Christmas to all, if it means anything to you. Except for being a public holiday, it really does not hold much meaning for me. I cannot really feel the peace and goodwill and what have you that appears to permeate everyone during this day, no matter their religious beliefs and races. I think it has something to do with being in a tropical country. I think it would be easy to feel Christmasy and all those things if I could snuggle by a fire with a hot drink and goodies, with whirling dervishes of snow outside.

The papers are full of anecdoctal articles about what people doing with their families on this day of day, and this brings back the fact that the SB will not be home for the coming Lunar New Year. Japan must be the one Asian country to follow the Gregorian calendar where New Year is concerned. This means something to me. That period is my period for family togetheredness and stuff like that. This is also the first time in my whole life that I will not have SB for the Lunar New Year (except for the two years before she was born).

The parents are considering flying to Tokyo to spend the Lunar New Year with SB, and take a tour of Tokyo and maybe make a short trip to Korea. I am still thinking. Flying to Tokyo for the weekend is not exactly how I would like to spend Chinese New Year, not to mention that I would probably start work tired out after the spree. I can't stay longer than that, not after months of medical absences. Sisterly love calls, but I think I would reserve that for another time.

At least I would not need to spend this coming Lunar New Year with my maternal extended family in Malaysia, like we do every year. Dad is also greatly relieved - a four hour drive in the heat is not exactly fun. Extended families are no fun for an unmarried thirty plus year old woman. And there will be no need to bear with people who still like to take potshots at Singapore, all the while muttering asides of what I think of their country that civility would not allow me to say to their faces.

So, it seems that I will be home for the holidays this coming year. Not a bad thing, really, not a bad thing at all.

BY YON BONNIE BANKS

2009-12-20T15:16:00.002+08:00

One of the most beautiful songs in the world, and one of the saddest.

Source: Youtube video "Loch Lomond" by Chanticleer

Loch Lomond

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae,
On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

Oh! Ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road,
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye,
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

'Twas then that we parted, In yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side of Ben Lomond,
Where, in purple hue, The highland hills we view,
And the moon coming out in the gloaming.

The wee birdies sing, And the wild flowers spring,
And in sunshine the waters sleeping.
But the broken heart it kens, Nae second spring again,
Though the waeful may cease frae their greeting.

Source: Traditional

Background (quote from Wikipedia):

"While the original author is unknown, it is widely believed that he may have been a Scottish soldier who awaited death in enemy captivity. In his final letter home he wrote this song, portraying his home and how much he would miss it. Another tale is that during the 1745 Rebellion a soldier on his way back to Scotland during the 1745-6 retreat from England wrote this song. The "low road" is a reference to the Celtic belief that if someone died away from his homeland then the fairies would provide a route of this name for his soul to return home."

To me, this song is a culmination of all that the Scottish Highlands represents. Sometimes I like to think that I was a highlander in my previous life, and when I listen to this song, I can almost see it.

I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP

2009-12-17T10:55:00.000+08:00

This morning, I dreamt that I was back in my primary school canteen, queuing for food. I remember exactly what I wanted, fried rice, pork chops in sweet and sour sauce and stir fried cabbage. When I reached the head of the queue, everything was sold out. Nary a bit or a drop left.

I suppose this is my subconscious trying to internalise and accept the fact of my food drought for the next week or so. So much for being grateful just to be able to eat anything. I got over the fast quick enough, and now my psyche is crying out for richer stuff, no more porridge please. This morning I had to watch my sister down a juicy meat bun, followed by some pandan chiffon, a few peanut crackers and chocolates, while I sat there swallowing porridge, and I felt like I had descended into some kind of hellish existence. Oh, maybe some exaggeration, but close enough, and only something another foodie would understand.

Christmas and New Year is coming on fast. Too fast. Not that I have anything invested in these festive occasions, but it still means that a new year is dawning, I am closer to thirty two than thirty one, and I have to face life again. There is this bewilderness in me as I try to be adult and accepting, all the while scrambling in my head for ways to avoid this dawning for just another day.

Can I quote the Toys 'R Us jingle, "I don't want to grow up..."?

HAVING MY PORRIDGE AND EATING IT

2009-12-15T18:26:00.000+08:00

I had my first bite of solid food at around 1030 hrs this morning after four days of fasting. It was just a simple butter bun, but oh, it tasted like ambroisia to me. Two hours later, I had some pork porridge. It tasted like those instant porridge mix and was cold, but did I care? It still tasted like heaven to me. And anyone who knows me well knows I HATE porridge. I used to say that I would rather starve than take porridge. I guess I had to eat my words as well as my porridge this morning.

There is nothing but porridge and clear soups on the horizon for the next week. I am not allowed to take vegetables or fruits (or any high fibre foods) for the next week fear of further blockage. A few years ago, this would have been welcomed news. I was one of your typical vegetables hating kids. But I am finding that I will be missing my greens in the next one week. What a turn around.

At any rate, I'm finally off the IV drip, a great blessng. Living with the IV has made for certain logistical problems, especially when using certain hygiene amenities. If I never see another IV needle, or any kind of needle for that matter, it wouldn't be any time too soon. Having small veins and lower blood pressure makes it difficult to get blood from me. Add doctors with bad aim, and I get bruises and pain galore. Nothing would ever persuade me to give blood after this, altrusim or not.

My one month medical leave is almost half over. I am not sure if I am closer to being reconciled to going back to work once the month is up. I am heartily sick of hospitals, pain and the feeling of having lost precious time in the last two weeks, and am definitely not envisioning prolonging my convalescence. Yet some part of me still wants to find some way to increase the length of my medical leave so that I don't have to go back to work for another month or so.

I refuse to spoil what remains of my "holiday" by dwelling on the negatives, so I herewith cancel all images of work from my brain and replace them with SimCity 4 and Carl's Junior Western Bacon burgers, which is how I intend to spend the rest of my convalescence. After I get over the next few days of porridge fest that is.

"A PRECIOUS JEWEL", AND MY READING PREFERENCES

2009-12-15T12:36:00.000+08:00

I didn't manage to do as much reading as I thought to during my "lying in". For one thing, it is a bit awkward trying to hold a new paperback open without creasing the spine when one has an IV inserted in one hand. I hate pain, and I try to avoid contortions that might torture me. Having the book snap shut on me several times in a roll tends to curtail my reading pleasure somewhat.

I still managed to finish "A Precious Jewel" by Mary Balogh though. In fact, I could hardly put it down, pain in the hand or not. Which is a major surprise, since I bought this book against everything my brain was telling me. But my heart wanted the book, and in the end I didn't regret the impulse.

It is not your standard formula for Regency romance and far from meeting my usual requirements in plotlines. As far as I understand, the book almost didn't get written, because the initial feedback to the author's ideas were pretty negative. When you have a working prostitute, and a beta hero featured in a Regency setting, it sounds like an impossible deal - how do you get them to their Happily Ever After (HEA)? And how do you even make the characters likeable in a setting which typically revers eighteen year old virgins and alpha peers?

Anyway, she did it, and beautifully. I didn't want to put down the book at all. I wanted there to be any number of epilogues for my heart to continue pounding over how beautiful that love was.

Reading "A Precious Jewel" also made me conscious of the changes in my choice of reading material and plotlines over the years, from the day I first found out about adult romance novels at the tender age of thirteen. "A Precious Jewel" would never have made my list a few years ago, whatever my heart says. My reading preferences were extremely strict all the way up to my early twenties. The heroine had to be young, toothsome and most importantly, a virgin (I could just barely tolerate some little experience in modern settings). The hero, alpha naturally, older, good in bed (haha, as if any popular romance writer ever had a hero who had that kind of dysfunctionality) etc etc. No baggage of any kind - ex-spouses, lost loves, children etc etc. You get the picture. And don't forget the HEA. It was a foregone conclusion. It was extremely hard for me to get suitable books. I used to spend hours and hours in bookstores with dismal findings. And when I find an author who writes the way I like, I go after her backlist like a dog after a juicy bone.

Needless to say, I could never send anyone on bookshopping trips for me. It would have taken half the day just to enumerate the various criteria. And no friends ever gave me books as presents, even though everyone knew I loved to read. Ten out of ten, it would have contained something that will not pass my criteria.

I attribute that "era" to youth and idealism. Those things that I wanted in my romance novels then were things that I wanted for myself in life, and more importantly, they were still within my grasp. It wasn't just a fairy tale, it could still happen in real life the way I wanted it to. I had probably projected what I wanted out of real life into my requirements for my reading material, or vice versa, I don't know.

As I age, the reality changes. My reality has changed, hence, my reading preferences with it. My own dewy eyed, fresh faced era is gone, I am a slightly jaded, somewhat cynical woman now, and that is now reflected in the books that I read. Naive eighteen year old virgins needing masculine protection gave way to twenty seven year old shrews, who were smart and independent. A little sexual experience now seems sexy rather than crass. Overly alpha heros now border on outright chauvanism. A little
'beta-ness" can go a long way yet. "Cougar" heroines, hmm....why not? Today, a little baggage is acceptable.

That is not to say that my reading preferences has become a free-for-all suddenly. There is still one barrier that I have not been able to cross - the concept of only "One Great Love in Life" as opposed to "Second Chance At Love". I still believe, even at the venerable age of thirty one going on thirty two, that a person has only one great love in life, one that no other love will ever measure up to. And if that love is curtailed for whatever reason, there will be no other. I know reality says otherwise, but I have not had the occasion to experience that reality (and never hope to).

Which is why I avoid stories about finding a second love like the plague, because I can't imagine loving as much the second time if the first love is a true one. Such a storyline inevitably gives me the feeling that the protagonist has settled for second best the second time. It makes me question that should the protagonist be faced with his first and second love simultaneously, what would his choice be then? And whichever he makes, I would always feel that someone had been shortchanged.

It was interesting to note the changes in my own reading preferences, and to wonder what path it will take in the years to come. I had not really thought to chart my own emotional growth through changes in my reading material, but now that I have had some time to think about it, it seems only natural for a book-lover like me.

I still have piles of books to wade through in between HBO movies. I'll get on with it now. You will be hearing from me real soon.

THOUGHTS OF THE BIG APPLE

2009-12-14T20:36:00.000+08:00

The thing about lying in a hospital bed all day long, is that one gets bored. Extremely.

I realised there are only so many hours that a even a self admitted couch potato can read or watch TV a day for several days running before even that pales. I was so glad to get the netbook for a few hours for alternative entertainment. I never did realise how connected to the Internet I am living for such a technophobe.

Thanks to the presence of HBO in the hospital, I didn't totally go bonkers on Singapore foodie programs. Not that they are badly done; in fact they were too well done for my present state of mind, or rather, empty stomach. I spent yesterday afternoon gorging myself on old Meg Ryan movies like "You've Got Mail" and "City of Angels".

These movies were, and still are SB's favourites. Not exactly mine, but I find them generally enjoyable and there are parts to admire. I'm no Meg Ryan fan, but I always considered Tom Hanks a thinking woman's sexy man. Watching "You've Got Mail" put me in a totally nostalgic mood, just like "Sex and the City" always does, bringing back memories of last year's wonderful trip to New York City. I would love to go back again, only this time, we would skip all the tourist traps and concentrate on slow walks in Central Park, coffee and cake and people watching in little niches, leisurely shopping in little vintage shops in Soho, a jazz concert, a night at the opera and a few more broadway shows. And little dingy second hand bookstores.

A quaint little bookstore somewhere in NYC where we found unaffordable first editions.

I like "You've Got Mail" because it involves bookshops. A quaint little bookshop like "The Shop Around the Corner" is what SB and I always dreamed we would like to run if we ever have the money and the guts to do so. Maybe with a little coffee niche. And selling more than children's books. But you get the idea.

Not that I don't enjoy mega book stores like Borders and Kinokuniya and the like. They serve their purpose extremely well, and any place that allows more books to be read gets my nod of approval. But there is something almost magical about smaller bookstores, especially those quaint second hand stores that we came across in New York City. Everytime we see one, we would dive into it, and be immediately surrounded by dust, the smell of stale books and the air of something. The bookstores almost inveterantly comes with an oldish storekeeper, who looks as if he had plenty of is own stories to tell, if only he wanted to, only most of the time, we were left to browse in silence until the dust got the best of us. The second hand bookstores in Singapore are too commercialised, and they mostly only have recent publications. In those NYC old bookstores, we felt that if we only dug deep enough, we would be able to unearth precious first editions. I am a backlist stalker. When I find an author whom I like, I like to collect all their works, and sometimes the earlier publications are simply impossible to find, except in shops like this. I love, love, love these bookstores, and I find it extremely sad that we do not have a single one left in our modern city of Singapore.

So I find myself getting a little involved in the story of "You've Got Mail" and feeling quite a bit for Meg Ryan's character in the show. I have to agree that there is just something that we cannot get from big commericalised stores. I don't think the two necessarily needs to exist exclusively though, and it is possible to have the best of both worlds. As soon as SB and I have got the necessary capital and get over the fear of failure (for me at least), we would love to give it a try.

In the meantime, I comfort myself a little with our NYC photos on SB's facebook page, and remember our aimless walks around manhattan having twenty cups of coffee a day just to use the toilets on the premises, the admiring glances that we actually managed to get (those tasteful tasteful men, haha), of walking the brooklyn bridge in the rain at 6 am in the morning before our early flight back to Singapore (because SB insists it is the thing to do in NYC, a la Sex and the City, though she didn't figure in the rain and cold).

We are city gals at heart, and NYC is a city among cities. We love our modern city home of Singapore, and we will be the first to defend her against any slander, deserved or otherwise. However, even we have to admit there is just something about The Big Apple, that makes us continue to lose ourselves in movies like "You've Got Mail" and such, just to indulge in that feeling of something different.

We will be back one day.

BACK IN HOSPITAL - A FARCE

2009-12-14T16:17:00.001+08:00

I.AM.BACK.

In hospital.

Again.

The whole process was a major farce, exacerbated by poor doctors and worse diagnoses. It began when I started having terrible abdominal cramps and vomiting few days ago. It got so bad that I had to go to the A&E at the hospital nearest to home. On hindsight it was not the best plan, but I was too sick to make the longer trip to the hospital where I originally had my surgery.

My first A&E experience sucked. I am just going to quote two things the first A&E doctor said to me which underscored the whole experience:

"Let me think. Let me try and figure out whether there is a link with your surgery."
"I am not too sure if this two injections can mix. Maybe I will give it to you in different arms."

You can wonder at my confidence level at that point in time, and sure enough, I was back at the same A&E that evening. That night the doctor on duty came to see me, and after a long bout of questioning, I was told I only had a simple stomachache (in other words, making a big fuss out of nothing). I couldn't care less what I had, I only wanted the pain to stop so that I could sleep and eat. So I told him none of the meds they had given me worked, and if he could offer something to make me feel better. Hello, I didn't even think I needed to ask, I was white to the lips in pain. His reply?

"Medications are not magical potions, you know, but I can offer you a hot water bottle."

It was so cavalier that if I really had a hot water bottle on hand, I would have thrown it at him. Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night for the pain. It was a lot of tests and scans and a day of pain later, that this really cute, but maybe clueless doctor came to inform me that it seemed I might have an intestinal perforation, but they couldn't be sure, but they want to operate on me urgently to find out. Another operation a scant two weeks after my first - this was not news I wanted to hear. My family almost had hysterics.

And then, the cute doctor then hurried back to break the news that they had misread my scans and I had nothing more than some intestinal blockage, which a few days of fasting and intravenous drips would cure. Anyway, we had enough of the farce, so we asked for a transfer to my "surgery hospital".

Well, I got a blazing ride in an ambulance, another first, but no sirens blazing. It felt like the ambulance found every non-existent pothole in the roads; I had such a bumpy ride. I made a dramatic entrance into the A&E section of the second hospital, and had everyone staring at me. Not an experience I want repeated, at least, not when I am conscious.

The only good thing that came out of the whole thing is that I got upgraded to an A1 ward. A veritable hotel room all to my little self. However, the fact that I am on a water only diet takes the gilding out of everything. I.AM.HUNGRY. I have all the utmost respect to controlled fasting after this episode, but the hunger doesn't sit well with me. It gets worse when ever other program on TV is a foodie TV, thanks to a food obsessed nation.

Anyway, things are better already, and I only have one more day to endure, and then I can eat. I can't tell you how many times a Carl's Junior burger has paraded itself across my consciousness. I am determined that I am going to take a bite into one as soon as I am able, health/fitness conscious or not. When one has experienced a few continuous days of hunger, one learns to appreciate certain things better.

......AND BACK NOW....

2009-12-06T21:19:00.001+08:00

So, I am back. Missing a few parts, but still functional (if I have ever been, that is).

The biopsy results were out before I left the hospital, and it was really as good as it could get, considering what we were all fearing before. I had a Stage 1 borderline tumor, which is neither benign nor malignant, but lies somewhere between the two. The oncologist says it is not life threatening, but may recur again, though the recur rates are much lower compared to normal malignant tumors (can a malignant tumor be normal though?). She said some other stuff, but I doubt anyone was listening after they heard "not life threatening".

It was a touching scene at my hospital bedside for a few minutes, with everyone in tears, even my usually stoic Dad. Dad called SB and she said she cried when she received the news. My mum actually rushed up and kissed me on my forehead, which embarrassed the hell out of me. We are really not a demonstrative family and I have never been subjected to treatment like this before. I was in tears myself, but that was more from pain than anything else, because the darn morphine pump wasn't working. I felt like I had been cut into half.

I had a bad two days of it after the surgery, but once I began to take solid food again, I began recovering at a grand rate. At this point, I am able to move around the house on my own, albeit very, very slowly, and cradling my tummy most gingerly. The only problem occurs when I need to cough, sneeze or laugh. I never did realise how much of your lower body muscles are involved during these actions. Everytime I cough or sneeze, I had to check surreptitiously to ensure that I have not burst my stitches and am holding my guts in my hands. Now that SB is back, meal times are a laugh a minute, which makes me go "Ha, ha, ha, OW! Ha, ha, OW! ha, ha, OW!", and that gets everybody going again.

I still cannot sit up for long, so this post ends here for now. More right up when I feel like it.

I AM OFF.....

2009-11-29T12:40:00.000+08:00

I will be checking into the hospital in two hours time. Taking a last sweep of the internet before I get deprived for the next few days.

Little trickles of apprehension are starting to kick in. So many people have commented on my serene state of mind during this period of waiting, or at least the outward manifestation of one, that I appear to have come across as something not quite human. I guess it will be quite a relief to people to know that I suffer from human anxiety like anyone else.

At any rate, I am feeling quite, quite uncomfortable now. There is this worried feeling in the region of my heart, and I cannot seem to sit still and concentrate on anything. I think I will feel a lot better once I am actually checked into the hospital and ensconced on my hospital bed. It is just this dastardly waiting around that irritates me. I have never been good at anything that involves any kind of waiting, or unknowns of any kind.

Ah...time is up. I have to go prepare to shower, pack a little, and then I'm off.

But don't worry....I'll be back. And in a prettier state than the Terminator, one hopes.

STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER!

2009-11-29T01:34:00.002+08:00

I always admire creative ideas, because I am so lacking in this area. Look what some unknown bright spark came up with:

A United States themed mahjong set! EP got this novelty set on his recent trip to Kuala Lumpur. Stars and stripes - stars for the dots, stripes for the bamboos. The character tiles are replaced by million USD ($1 M, $2 M etc).

A closer look at the "honour" and "wind direction" tile set:

The three dragon tiles are replaced with colours of the US flag - Red (Red Dragon, or 中), White (White Dragon, or 白板) and Blue (Green Dragon, or 发). The four wind directions are represented by four geographical locations - Canada for North, Mexico for South, New York for East and San Fransisco for West. I am not sure why Canada and Mexico were selected. There seems to be sufficient representative states within US itself to choose from.

The remaining eight tiles, apparently the best and most representative bits of American culture, appear to take the place of the flower tiles.

Isn't it just hilarious?

MY HAIR CUT EXPERIENCE

2009-11-29T01:08:00.000+08:00

Some days ago, I went and got my hair cut short. It didn't seem wise to keep my hair long for the upcoming surgery, since I am not sure if I will be in any condition to shower and wash my hair for the first one or two days after surgery (Ewww...).

I had never given up on getting a Katie Holmes bob, even though common sense told me it'll never make me look any more like Katie Holmes, or garner a Tom Cruise lookalike squeeze. But you know what they say about hope - it springs eternal.

I kind of expected hairdressers of established saloons to be at least familiar with the more famous Hollywood personalities. And Katie Holmes' bob had been mentioned so many times in the fashion magazines that it was practically an iconic style all on its own. So I confidently stepped in the saloon and requested for my hairdresser to give it to me a la Katie Holmes.

.....

You know, Katie Holmes? Like, Tom Cruise's current wife?

.....

The hairdresser apparently felt that he needed to bolster his fashionista image somewhat, so he quickly informed me that although he did not know who Katie Holmes was (he made it sound like she was some unimportant two bit actress - which she probably is, but - Tom Cruise's wife!), he could give me Victoria Beckham's bob.

Uh sorry no. I'll take her hubby anyday, but not her hairstyle. They call it a Pob. Trust me, I'll really look like a Pob, and I'm not being complimentary.

Anyway, after scouring about a dozen magazines for a picture of Katie Holmes (and not finding it - I never realised she was so un-newsworthy), we finally settled how my bob should look like by dint of vague descriptions, albeit a lot of them.

Four hours and much intake of chemical fumes later, I took a look at the results. I looked iconic enough alright.

Call me the Egyptian queen. I didn't get Katie Holmes, but I figured Cleopatra was probably a close second. No Tom Cruise, but Marc Antony will do in a pinch.

It was hard to respond to the hairdresser when he asked me if this was what I had wanted. I am not sure if I handed over the 250 bucks quite so enthusiastically either. I did hope that he had been at least spurred to find out what a Katie Holmes bob look like.

It also crossed my mind that if I should end up having chemo (yeah, yeah, touch wood), I might just end up with nothing to show for my 250 bucks. If that happens, I allow you to quote me the hair haiku.

HAIKU DEDICATION

2009-11-27T15:47:00.002+08:00

I would like to hijack a haiku composition of the new EU President Mr Herman van Rompuy, and dedicate it to my father. I think it is most appropriate and I think I can never look at my Dad again without thinking about this haiku.

Hair blows in the wind
After years there is still wind
Sadly no more hair

DELIVERIES THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

2009-11-27T14:52:00.041+08:00

I received a surprise delivery about ten minutes ago from a good friend. Nothing brightens a day so much as knowing someone is thinking of you.

Thanks AW!

Smiley cupcakes!

Cheery sunflowers!

I am also preparing my entertainment material for my long convalescence. This is but a quarter of my prepared reading material.

And more are on the way! Speaking of deliveries, I discovered OpenTrolley.com while I was searching for other online book sources other than Amazon. The great thing about OpenTrolley is that they are based in Singapore, so delivery in Singapore is dirt cheap. I paid about SGD 5.00 for SingPost delivery to doorstep for about ten paperbacks. The prices of recent releases are also cheaper than places like Borders and Kinokuniya. A typical paperback romance novel which costs me SGD 16 to 18 in bookstores is retailed at SGD 12 to 14. For those without credit cards, they accept local bank transfers too. Delivery time takes about seven to ten days, and my books are delivered in perfect condition. The selection is decent enough, and should be able to satisfy most people, unless you are a voracious back-list stalker like I am.

There is room for improvement, of course. The search engine could use some refinement. And the system is not set up for browsing, since many of the books had no product description and/or reviews. I had to get the feedback from other sources like Amazon, and then place the order with OpenTrolley. I also wish they had sources for used books too. But they are pretty new, so I guess it only remains to give them time and room for further improvement. I am very happy with them at this point, and plan to make the most of their cheap delivery service when I am laid up at home.

In between preparations for the operation, I found time to do quite a bit of reading. I have ditched my romance novels for the time being and delved into classics. Or more accurately, classic romance, for there is something in me that can never get away from romance no matter where I am and what I am doing. So I have been busy with the likes of Jane Austen, E.M Hull, Elinor Glyn, E.M. Dell, Anthony Trollope, Louisa May Alcott, L.M Montgomery, the Bronte sisters etc on the internet. There are many, many sites which provides free reads of these authors. I struggled quite a bit with my conscience regarding intellectual property rights etc, but then I figured that for these authors at least, the public copyrights have already expired (I think).

In particular I have been also re-reading my own Alcott collection. This is one author that always make me cry, no matter how many times I read her books. I was reading "Rose in Bloom" in the hospital waiting room the other day, and was at the exact place where Charlie died. I had a little weep and I received many symphathetic looks; people probably thought I had received extremely dire news. I only wished she had been more prolific with her children/teenage classics. Her adult novels are too gothic and dark, and morbid for me.

This space will be somewhat boring (if it isn't already) in the coming days, as I will probably end up discussing my reading material, since all I will be doing is going through my pile of books. I cannot ask for better pleasure than that, but I guess not everyone will agree.

THE GREAT CHINESE EDUCATION DEBATE - AGAIN

2009-11-27T13:11:00.066+08:00

The debate on Chinese language education is on, yet again.

I am not sure how many times the Ministry of Education (MOE) has revised the Chinese language syllabus and teaching methods in the last ten years. But one thing I am sure - I am damn glad I am not a Chinese language teacher.

The traditional teaching methods that have garnered so many criticisms from students and parents are precisely what is used in the teaching of many, many languages other than Chinese. In my opinion, rote memory is required to lay any kind of language foundation. I doubt I learnt my ABCs via osmosis, and SB didn't pick up Japanese just from reading manga comics. I remember those hours spent memorising my tenses - past participles, future tense and what have you.

Parents and students have criticised Chinese lessons in schools as being dry and uninteresting. Then again, I doubt other subjects such as mathematics could be conducted in a more interesting way than the languages. But there do not seem to be any complaints thus far. It seems unfair that parents encourage their children to do additonal supplementary English readings in the form of story books and such, but do not make the same effort for Chinese, even at the most basic levels. They then turn around and complain that the language is dry and uninteresting. If all I had to read were textbooks when I was studying English, I would have thrown a tantrum too.

The conclusion I have drawn so far, is that the entire debate has nothing to do with the teaching of the language. It is all about the mindsets that surround the learning of the language. The effort put into the picking up of any subject needs to be two-way; the teacher must make the effort to teach, and the student must make the effort to learn. All I seem to be seeing from the entire debate, is that parents and students want maximum returns for minimum effort (or no effort at all).

A case in point. The top PSLE student this year is a Chinese girl who could hardly speak English upon her admission to the school. In a few years, she has changed all that. Situational circumstances aside, I understand she has put in incredible effort into the learning of the language. While she has of course been rewarded for her hard work, I think many feel that it should be the case of course. The situation is now reversed in the case of the typical Singaporean English speaking student, who is poor in Chinese. I wonder how much effort has been put into the learning of the language, before the students and parents turn around and point fingers at the teaching institutes? Is the effort even a fraction of what the Chinese girl has done for her English? Are we being fair?

I don't see the point of continuing this debate and driving the poor Chinese teachers insane in the process. I have always been a pro-Choice person and here is my pro-Choice solution. Leave the syllabus and teaching to the people who are trained for them. What the MOE can do is to abolish the compulsory bilingual system for the Chinese in totality. Let the learning of Chinese be voluntary, just like, for example, a third language, or a humanity subject. In this way, those who are willing to put in the effort will reap the benefits, and might even better appreciate the opportunities and the edge it gives them. At the very least, there will be no petty threats of emigration just to avoid the bilingual policy. If the government is worried that there would be a dearth of effectively bilingual citizens eventually, I think the continual ascendency of China and the natural "kiasuism" of Singaporeans would probably even things out in the end.

At any rate, I am glad that whatever the decision, that I am done with my formal education, and I do not have to be the unwilling receipient of all the various syllabus changes being rolled out. I do not know if they make any difference to the quality of students turned out, but I get the feeling that the fresh graduates who show up at my office seems to be equipped with less and less foundation knowledge as the years pass. The only thing they appear to excel in is finding information from the internet. It makes for some entertainment as I think up various ways to ask the question "You mean you never learnt that in school?"

NAMING TRIVIA

2009-11-26T22:10:00.016+08:00

I was perusing the reviews of some romance novels that I am interested in purchasing when I came across a reader's short rant on the name of the hero. He/she felt that it was too feminine sounding a name for a romance hero, who, after all, is supposed to be tall, dark, and all that encompasses masculinity, even his name.

It was Jocelyn.

His/her rant reminded me of something I found on the internet recently. It is interesting to note the interesting trivia one comes across on the internet. I had recently read a blog post on a romance writers' blog. The author was lamenting the difficulty that she faced in finding names for her characters. Her fellow writer colleagues were all commiserating, and I was surprised that people actually write fan mails to authors to complain about protaganists' names. One would have thought there were better things to do.

One would be surprised at how much consideration the naming process involved, especially for prolific authors who have written a lot. Apparently, one of the important investments of fiction authors are baby naming books, the more the merrier, and spanning different races and cultures. Personal preferences aside, the name had to be easy to remember, easily spelled and pronouced (no Scandinavian names), suitable for the time period of the novel (no hippie names for regency romances), and of the correct gender.

One would think that the last requirement would be the easiest to fulfil. I mean, it is easy enough to remember not to name a hero Jane or Mary. But apparently, the author who wrote the blog post I was referring to above, named the hero "Artemis" in one of her novels. She changed it to "Artemas", the male equivalent, only after receiving complaining emails from her readers. I was plenty amused at the anecdote.

One of the points she made in post was also the crossing of genders for certain names. Names like Hilary, Evelyn, and the Jocelyn of the above-mentioned fame were solid English male names once upon a time. Then America happened. And after that, we have the very popular "Cameron" as in "Diaz", "Drew" as in "Barrymore" and sundry others. I can see where the bewilderment sets in then, when trying to give the protagonists nice names without resorting to the common and overused.

Back to the rant. I thought it was very nice of the other reviewers not to snub that particular ranter with regards to the issue on the name. Then again, many people probably had the same thoughts but were too polite to mention them. I certainly would have, if I didn't come across the other blog post first.

Note: The blog I was referring to above is "Running with Quills", and the blog post I was referring to is titled "Jayne and a boy named Sue" by Jayne Ann Krentz, who happens to be one of my favourite authors as well. Read the comments as well to get the whole of the discussion, if it pleases ye.

MAHJONG BUSINESS

2009-11-22T15:43:00.015+08:00

EP has been a busy little boy in the last one month, and will be a very busy little boy in the next few months. He has now been officially elevated to "trainer" status, and will start offering mahjong workshops at selected community centres (CCs) from December on. Way to go, EP!

The CCs are moving fast now that official directive has been given. We are lucky that mahjong playing is already rather deeply entrenched among the masses, and it is now only a matter of throwing light on its previous "underground" status. I think other sports such as Contract Bridge might have a slightly more difficult time of it to spread and popularise the game on a grassroots level. I think they will have more success if they concentrate on spreading the game in schools, for Contract Bridge has a somewhat more academic appeal to my way of thinking.

In the meantime, the challenge for EP will be to try and promote the play of the MCR variant, which still does not stir much interest. We would like to attend the 2010 Netherlands MCR tournament if we are able, and I am hopeful that if we are successful in attending and the event gets some mention in the Singapore media, we may be able to convert more people to MCR. For who wouldn't want to have a chance to play on an international level, and the Singapore variant, at this point, does not provide that opportunity.

We have been playing with more regularity recently, and I have settled into some kind of comfortable groove regarding my playing. We are down to just four regular players, and are quite quite familiar with each other's playing style. I have stopped trying new playing strategies, and am just going along with what I am most comfortable with. The good thing is that I am less nervous and excitable about my game, which enables me to think more clearly and control my body language. But the situation is bad for exposure, which is why I am eager for MCR to take off in Singapore, and I have a larger pool of opponents sharpen my skills on.

The alternative is to play online, which EP has been doing. There are some issues with this for me, but nothing insurmountable. Most online MCR players are Europeans, and a time difference issue exist. In addition, I am having internet connection issues, and until I upgrade my internet connection speed, online play is out of the question.

But I will prevail yet.

PS: I have EP's blog (Singapore Sparrows) linked under Mahjong Links at the sidebar, if anyone is interested.

FINALLY....

2009-11-22T14:52:00.005+08:00

All good things come to those who wait. As with everything else, there are always exceptions.

At any rate, despite the less than stellar diagnosis (ok, actually there is still no confirmed diagnosis), things are moving at long last. I get to sample the hospitality of Hotel KKH at the end of the month, the main course on the kitchen table being me. Haha, alright, alright, I'll stop with the morbid allusions for now.

With any luck, I'll be up and about in a month or so, maybe two. Although I wish it takes me a bit longer to recover that. I have no wish to abandon the days of lying in bed with a stack of books and being waited on hand and foot. The only inperfection I can see will be the dietary restrictions, but that is something I can bear with, I guess, if I can have the rest. If it takes me two weeks to get back into grove after a 10 day holiday, imagine how long it will take me to return to a grindstone mindset after a two month break! Just for a little while, I was almost tempted to wish chemo on myself just so I could extend the MC to six months, but it was just for a teeny weeny while. For one thing, my bank account could never stand that kind of drought......

I have been on the receiving end of many, many well wishes, some of which came from sources quite unexpected. And I am really grateful and touched. I am not one of those people who makes and keeps friends easily. There is a natural reserve on my part, and also sheer laziness that keeps me from making the effort to reach out. I used to wonder if I ever featured importantly enough in anyone's life, outside of my own immediate family, that they would say "I wish JT was here" or "Only JT will do." if I ever pass on? Ok, ok, no morbid thoughts.

I feel like a prospective mother waiting for their babies to be born. You know, must build up health, keep happy and optimistic, and calmly wait for the day to arrive. Except of course, this is like the situation in reverse, since it will involve babies who will now never see the light of day (oops, that's more morbidity for you). I don't know if it sounds weird, but I actually feel a sense of anticipation; it is a new experience after all, albeit one that most people could do without. And I'll be lying if I said I am not looking forward to all the pampering that would come after the main event. Haha.

By the way, in case anyone is interested, I like sunflowers and lilies, or yellow/orange gerberas, Love seedless grapes. Hate essence of chicken and other related chinese remedies. Love romance novels, drama, movies, anything with happy endings. This is really shameless, but when better to milk the situation for all it is worth, if not now? Mwahahaha.

WAITING

2009-10-27T20:59:00.004+08:00

If there is anything I hate more than waiting, I have not discovered it yet.

Nov 4th seems very far away as I make my way through the antibiotics, and foul tasting Chinese medicine. And especially so when I think I already have my diagnosis. I don't feel if these two weeks are going to make much of a difference to my status. The tumor is not going to miraculously disappear. And my second opinion doctor and the TCM specialist apparently thinks so too, though they did not couch it in such brutal terms. So I just wish we could move the dates up and get it over and done with, chop-chop.

We are in a bit of a quandary regarding doctors. I am definitely ditching the doctor they will assign to me under the hospital's subsidised care scheme. No offense to the doctor (whoever he/she is), but it seems that even in healthcare, you get what you pay for. So we decided to go private. However, the private doctor who gave us my second opinion has declined to take on my case, and has referred me to another doctor. I have not seen this third doctor yet, but I have been given to understand that he is very experienced and in high demand. In addition, he also holds an extremely senior position at two hospitals. Now we are starting to worry that he will be too busy to devote much time to my care, me being no biggie in particular.

So after Nov 4th, I have to wait another two weeks to see Doctor No. 3 and if he turns out unsatisfactory, we may have to look for Doctor No. 4 etc etc. And I will have to wait and wait to go under the knife. Oh, the waiting sucks.

****************************************************

I feel rather like shit these few days, probably because what I put in my mouth also taste like it. For all the advancement made in traditional chinese medicine, they never did find a way to make their herbal concoctions look and taste more appetizing. My life revolves around the two times a day I have to take the concoctions. It seems like I am already dreading my next bout before I have even swallowed this one. I don't know if this is a good thing, but the Chinese medicine has caused me to lose my appetite somewhat. For someone who loves to eat, it is certainly a new experience to need my mother to crack her brains to think of novel ways to tempt my appetite.

I also feel the occasional urge to brain my father, who has totally taken this organic produce thing too far. We have "JT's grapes" and "Daddy's grapes" in the fridge, "JT's veges" and "Daddy's veges" on the table. Mine are all organic, Dad's not - therein lies the difference. I have no idea why we can't all take organic produce together.

The only time I feel good is when I see a fast-food advertisement on TV. What won't I give for a nice juicy Mushroom Swiss burger now?

ONE SWORD OF DAMOCLES, HANGING ON THE WALL

2009-10-21T21:11:00.002+08:00

The news have not been very good for me so far, but as there is no firm diagnosis yet, I guess there is no point in making a it big deal for now. Meanwhile, I have been sort of given a two week reprieve before the Sword of Damocles fall (or not), and we are using these two weeks to hope for a miracle cure.

So we have gone into "fight mode" at home. Or at least the parents and sundry friends and relatives. I have been dragged very reluctantly into this whole thing. The only reason why I am succumbing to the fiasco is purely because it would be too much trouble not to, and besides it gives the parents something else to focus on.

I have been inundated with traditional remedies from various parties. I would have been kept busy swallowing the whole day if we did everything which was offered, so we picked the easiest and the one with a proven track record. So now I am taking this Chinese herbal brew alongside my other medication from the hospital. The parents have replaced all the fruits and vegetables at home with organic produce. A relative comes by frequently with other offers - organic soups, herbs, TCM books, articles etc etc. There is a stack of articles on my desk pending my "reading pleasure", in Chinese no less.

Various people are kept busy contacting doctors and other TCM specialists for second opinions. I am getting kind of overwhelmed and bewildered. In fact, I am starting to feel as if I have to remain sick so as to justify all the activities that are on-going on my behalf. There is a part of me, however, that is wallowing a little at all the attention I am getting.

The next two weeks will be difficult. And only because I hate to wait. It feels like those days before I got my "O" and "A" level results, and I can't seem to settle down to anything because my heart is all aflutter.

Oh, by the way, I really do only have one kidney. It happens to be a congenital condition. Imagine it took me 31 years to discover such an important fact about myself. Really, they should have some kind of organ stock check for new borns, then we won't be surprised by this later in life, and when it really matters too. It doesn't impact on my health at the moment, but I felt a certain physical emptiness in my body when I was informed of the fact. Funny thing, the human psyche.

PLEASE JUST RELAX....

2009-10-16T18:45:00.004+08:00

The mood at home is so somber. All because everyone is worried sick for my health. Except me.

How to let my mother stop crying? That is the most heartbreaking part of it. For myself, I couldn't care less, but I do wish there was some way to make my parents feel better.

Now I understand why patients of terminal illnesses have to keep their spirits up. It is really not so much for themselves, but for the other people around them.

I really don't think it will come down to the dreaded c-disease. I don't feel it in my body.

Oh man, I wish everyone could just relax. Because all this worry is starting to have effect on me. I'm starting to feel the beginnings of a sense of panic.

And I so don't need this now.

GOODBYE CHILDREN

2009-10-14T19:54:00.011+08:00

Okay, so I have to have surgery. The ovarian cyst needs removing. Goodbye, my unfated children.

They had to take a bit of blood to check for cancer markers. I hate giving blood or inserting IVs, because it almost always means they have to poke me a few times before they get a working vein. And those needles aren't exactly small. Anyway, if I don't hear from them in the next seven days, I get out of jail free. If I do - too bad. Feels a bit like playing Russian roulette.

Why then am I still feeling so....so....cheerful?

Perhaps it is the thought that I'll finally get some flowers delivered to me. I always wanted to have someone send me flowers, but I guess this is a bit over the top to achieve this. Haha.

Mum went with me to the gynae today, and I thought she was going to burst into tears any minute. She probably sighed about fifty times in the course of the whole day. I am so sorry that she has to go through all this, made worse by the fact that I personally don't feel anything. She says she is not sure could take any more bad news, so for her sake more than mine, I am praying that the blood test is clean, and I don't have cancer.

We are not by nature one of those huggy, kissy families. My parents show concern by nagging. What to eat, not to eat, when to eat, what to do, etc etc. I don't blame them, I really don't. But this is also the period when I need the most me-time. So I have been driven clean out of my mind this one month.

Anyway, I learnt today that I have got a bicornuate uterus, which is pretty uncommon, it seems. And not so good. Apparently, because of this, I am prone to miscarriages. Wow. So I guess it is a good thing that I don't want children. It would have been heartbreaking for me otherwise.

And also I am likely to be subject to earlier menopause after removal of the ovary. Oh man, that was so not what I wanted to hear. Other than that, one ovary short won't leave me any different from what I am now.

So yeah, I am up for anything they throw at me. Though I probably will change my tune soon, because if there is anything I dread more than needles, it is the thought of bedpans.

Ewww.....

DON'T ASK ME HOW I AM

2009-10-11T15:41:00.012+08:00

I am tired of having to keep answering questions on my health.

I probably sound like an ungrateful bitch. I probably am an ungrateful bitch. I am very grateful to all the people who have been so concerned about me. But it gets tiring repeating the same things over and over again. Add to that the fact that I absolutely have no diagnosis on my problem(s) yet and I don't know what is going to happen next. "How are you now?" now heads my list of most dreaded questions.

I am also not sure that I actually care whether there is anything physically wrong with me. I am not sure if if I actually care about anything at this very moment. There is this sense of ennui intersperse with occasional bouts of panic that I am headed in a very wrong direction but I don't know how to pull myself back. I feel like I am just existing day to day in some kind of vaccuum. And the more I feel like this, the more I don't feel like interacting, or reaching out to people. It feels rather comfortable in this emotionless, isolated state, although those occasional sense of panic disturbs me. But it is easy enough to smother them and continue with status quo.

The thought has occurred to me that I am perhaps suffering from some form of depression or....something. I don't know. It is not that I feel sad, or desperate or keep having morbid, suicidal thoughts, or anything. I just don't care. And I don't want to talk. I don't know if seeing a shrink will change anything, seeing that I don't much believe in the institution of psychiatry. And I don't think I care for more medication. As a matter of fact, I had wondered if the cocktail of medicines I am taking currently is accounting for my current emotional state.

So I just have to wait for it to pass, I guess. I don't suppose I would come to any great harm in the meantime. I was told by the "prophet" from the "holy mountain" that my ba zhi (eight characters) indicate that I would have a relatively smooth and easy life, kind of a charmed life, if you will. I guess I would have to put my faith that he is right, and I would weather whatever I am currently going through perfectly fine.

In the meantime, please don't ask me how I am. Thank you so very much. :)

MERRILY WE MOVE ALONG....

2009-10-11T14:01:00.056+08:00

Things are moving along on the mahjong front.

The People's Association has contacted EP regarding their interest in propagating mahjong as an intellectual game for enhancing mental well being, especially in senior citizens. As part of this push, EP has been asked to offer mahjong classes, mainly at community centres (CCs) and residents' committee centres (RCCs). EP has done some drafting and is in the midst of discussion with some interested parties. We were also at an official PA event held yesterday to promote the game and his workshop(s) to the various CCs and RCCs under the umbrella of the "Mental Well-being" theme.

The interest shown was rather overwhelming, but that is only to be expected. Mahjong is after all already commonly played among the Chinese community in Singapore, only that it has been relegated to somewhat of an "underground" status due to the association with gambling and vice. It is therefore only natural that we see many enthusiasts crawling out of the woodwork now that official approval has been given. Singaporeans are nothing if not obedient.

We hardly needed to do much promoting of the game itself. It was a case of preaching to the converted in most cases. Some of the CCs and RCCs already had their own interest groups and had already or were in the midst of planning their own mahjong tournaments. Some wanted to tailor the workshops towards a non-Chinese audience - that we really welcome.

Of course, there were the expected negativity - that we are really encouraging gambling while promoting the game. We made the same noises we always have, about how gambling and addiction is really a personal responsibility, and nothing to do with the game per se etc etc, but it was rather hard to convinced people who had such mind sets. No matter what, we were, in their eyes, introducing a tool whereby more harm could be done, and that was unacceptable. Ultimately, we do not intend to get into any sort of moral arguments on this matter, for there is really no end to it and will also get us nowhere. We support the game purely as an intellectual pursuit and that is how we will be making any offering(s).

I just wondered if the naysayers were also players of the game already.

My own interests lie in the spreading the MCR variant. EP intends to introduce both the Singapore and MCR variant in his workshops. My feel is that it will be difficult to convince the players who are already deeply rooted in the Singapore variant to pick up the alternative. It is human nature to continue to remain in our comfort zone. Perhaps, I myself should lead by example, and try my hand at Riichi, and hope for not too many chombos.

I had the opportunity to sit down to a quick game of Singapore mahjong during the PA event. It has been months and months since I last played the variant, and man, was I stressed out. When playing with expert players, Singapore mahjong is fast. It takes quite a bit of getting used to, after the slower and deeper play during MCR sessions. And the haphazard discard of tiles takes major getting used to, especially when one is rather short sighted. The pure excitement in the game comes from the speed of play.

Once we take away the speed of play though, I personally feel that Singapore mahjong has nothing on the MCR variant. It never hit me more clearly than during yesterday's game, when I had to "dumb-down" my play in order to make more frequent wins. The trick to the Singapore variant is to win, fast and frequently. The best defense is offense. This is especially the case as most recreational play involves a one-double minimum, and anything goes. An animal, the correctly numbered flower, pung of a dragon, boom, that's one double. Build pure straights? Set shifting? Concealed hands? Forget about it. Just hu.

I don't think it gets any more interesting if we just raise the minimum and maximum-double limits. It gets harder, sure, but not more interesting. With only a number of limited fans to make, there are only so many approaches. Give me MCR any day. 81 scoring fans gives one more room for creativity.

It is perhaps worth mentioning that the Singapore Contract Bridge Association was also at the event promoting contract bridge. EP and I used to play contract bridge in our university days, and I have to admit I kind of miss it. I personally feel it is not as easy to get really involved in contract bridge, because of the logistics involved in partnership formation and maintenance. Serious contract bridge play works better with a fixed partner, to develop bidding strategies and mutual communication synergy. With the typical hectic schedules of working adults, getting a fixed partner with the correct chemistry makes for a bit of a difficulty. I have also seen many friendships disintegrating after partnership strains. That is something I absolutely want to avoid. EP and I may try picking up the game recreationally again though, depending on our respective schedules, but I have a feeling that he may be too busy with all the developments on the mahjong front though.

Anyway, there is plenty going on, so we will wait and see what the next few months bring. I have not forgotten that there will be a tournament in Netherlands in 2010. Wishing....and hoping....and thinking....and praying....

MAHJONG UPDATE

2009-10-04T21:02:00.005+08:00

We have started playing again recently, not too frequently, but still better than nothing.

There are not many of us left actually. In fact, there are only four of us still playing at all. And it is MCR all the way. The general mood feels a lot less competitive, we have settled into a rather comfortable groove. I have been told I am relatively more zen than I used to be when it comes to the game, but I will still never be able to cultivate that poker face. We haven't been trying any new strategies. I have slotted myself into the comfort zone of plain 'ol chow hands, especially the pure straights and pure shifted.

EP has been playing online rather frequently, and also venturing into Riichi. I would like to try the online play, but the timing just plain sucks, since most of the other players are European. I need my beauty sleep, especially since I have not been feeling very well recently. And I still have this mental block about Riichi mahjong. Still seems like too much trouble for too little gratification. I like my games with a little less rules than it takes to assemble a rocket.

EP is apparently having some bigger mahjong project in the pipeline. Since it involves various official parties, I do not think I will give any details here until it has been finalised. But I think it has the potential to lead to bigger things, and I am waiting with bated breath to see the developments.

More later, perhaps.

HEALTH UPDATE

2009-10-04T20:26:00.008+08:00

So, after all the scans and scopes and consultations and hundreds of dollars spent, the conclusion is that I do not have any obvious gastro-abnormalities. Whatever gastric pains and stuff I have been suffering from is probably due to a sensitive stomach and maybe in my head. Stress supposedly does weird things to the nervous system. At least no one has accused me of hypochondria yet.

What I do have at the moment though, is one MIA kidney and an enlarged ovary.

The above findings were incidental to the abdominal ultrasound I did last week for my gastric problems.

Sometimes, it seems that we go looking for our own troubles.

Well, it started innocently enough. I was supposed to do an ultrasound scan on my upper abdomen area to see if there are any problems with my liver and gall bladder. No problems there. I am not sure whether the radiologist was supposed to also look at the kidneys at all, or if it was just due diligence on her part, but she realised she couldn't find the left kidney where it usually is. She scanned all around, until she reached my spine....still no kidney. She went downwards towards the pelvic area, still no kidney. Went up to my chest, still no kidney. Basically, unless my kidney has decided to live above my heart, or in my legs, it didn't show up on the screen.

What did show up though, when she did the pelvic scan, was an enlarged right ovary, with what appears to be some kind of cystic growth.

Wow, one problem solved, with two other potential problems arising.

So, I have to spend another hundred plus bucks to find out where the left kidney has misplaced itself. Or whether I am one of those mutants who are born with only kidney. Or whether my left kidney has actually shrunk and atrophied without my knowledge. I still have my right kidney and it is working fine, based on a recent blood test. But a missing kidney is not something I can dismiss so easily. And I get kind of insecure when I think of the possibility that I might only have one kidney left. Like the creator left me with no back-up plans. I am an engineer after all....I like safety factors.

Then I have to see a gynaecologist for the ovarian issue. I'm not so concerned there. In a worst case scenario, I will be required to remove it. And well, that will be a million potential children gone down the hospital disposal chute, but since I never did intend to contribute to the national birth average in the first place, I don't feel the pinch. I am more concerned about the hormonal impact - I don't want to end up menopausal at the age of 31. The thought of saggy skin and hot flashes plain scares me.

I probably sound rather cavalier about the whole thing, but the truth is, I am not feeling anything. At all. No fear, no worries. In fact, I rather welcome the downtime if surgery is really required. SB thinks I need to see a shrink for all this emotional numbness that I am displaying.

Though I feel rather sorry for my parents, who are showing signs of stress at my disclosure. I guess it is a million potential grandchildren after all. Although I am actually more concerned that there is no one at the moment to fertilise those eggs even if I get to keep them. Haha.

So, the investigation continues. I just hope my Medisave account can hold up under the strain.

CONDOR HEROES

2009-09-20T21:32:00.012+08:00

I occasionally like to browse in my local CD/DVD shop to see if they have good deals. This week, I was told by the sales person that TVB would no longer continue to issue new VCD/DVDs of the older serials made in the ‘80s. I had notice many of the older series were no longer on the shelves, so, despite not knowing if this was just a sales gimmick, I blew a hundred bucks and swept that last copy of “Return of the Condor Heroes” （神雕侠侣）off the shelf.

I cannot claim to be a true-blue fan Louis Cha (金庸) since I never did complete all of his martial arts novels. But those I had read, I absolutely loved. He is a true master of his art, as many better than me have testified. His imagination and creativity is astounding and the sheer attention to detail in his novels is nothing short of a miracle.

Many of his works have been made into television drama serials, the most faithful being Hong Kong’s TVB. Amongst them, the most popular works, which also happen to be my favourites, would have to be “Legend of the Condor Heroes” (射雕英雄传), its sequel “Return of the Condor Heroes” （神雕侠侣）and lastly “The Demi Gods and Semi Devils” （天龙八部）. Some consider the last a loose prequel of the first. I am not an expert enough to argue either way, so I’ll just leave it at that.

Many people have their own opinion of the definitive version of the various serials. I am no exception. Not raindrops on roses, or whiskers on kittens, but these are some of my favourite things:

Legend of the Condor Heroes (射雕英雄传) starring Felix Wong and Barbara Yung

Return of the Condor Heroes（神雕侠侣) starring Andy Lau and Idy Chan

The Demi Gods and Semi Devils （天龙八部）starring Felix Wong, Benny Chan and Fan Shao Huang

Anyway, I spent a good part of this weekend on my newly purchased series. The other two I already have in my collection, and have already watched them enough to memorise the dialogue. For some reason, I have resisted buying “Return” until now, so it was a great, great pleasure to reacquaint myself. Many people would assume that I love the series for eye candy Andy Lau, and while that was one factor among many, many others, I spent most of my time mooning not over Andy, but this guy:

Actor Bryan Leung Kah Yan (梁家仁) in the role of Guo Jing (郭靖), hero extraordinaire…and all MAN. I watched the DVDs twice through. The second time, I basically fast forwarded through all the various parts until I came to those scenes which included him. Frankly, I’ll marry him in a heartbeat if he were still available. Offer me Orlando Bloom, and I’ll still choose him. Chinese martial arts pwn elvish powers….hehe…..

PS: I really want to kill someone regarding the screwed up formatting.

MISCELLANY

2009-09-20T21:14:00.011+08:00

We have a long weekend courtesy of Hari Raya this week. In our household, this inevitably translates to cleaning time.

Nope, can’t get away from it. This comes of being born into a cleanliness/neatness obsessive family. My mother is somewhat anal about cleanliness and neatness, and she is one the few persons I know who employs a maid and does all the cleaning herself, because said maid does not meet her standards. My dad now is less severe, but he absolutely cannot stand clutter, so he is always packing things things away so surfaces can be cleared. And half the time, we can never re-locate the stuff again, because no one (including himself) remembers which hidden corner he has put the things away in.

Even SB has her OCD streak when it comes to this whole neatness thing, and I remember nothing but cleaning, and dusting and admonitions to clear up when I visited her in her dormy in Tokyo. I am the slob of the family…but thanks to genetics or simple osmosis, I also have certain tolerance levels when it comes to clutter and dust. So clean away I do.

I just noticed today while wiping down my bookshelves, that yet another shelve is on the verge of collapse. I managed to shore it up somewhat, but I am starting to panic a little. I have no idea how the shelves are going to hold up for the next fifteen years that I intended to. It was a good thing that we ruled out those mickey mouse IKEA furniture when we were renovating. There is no way those flimsy DIY stuff will ever hold up under my precious collection.

Nice collection eh? The visible books are only about half my entire assets. All the cupboards below also hold books, like this:

I haven’t updated my records for a long time, but a reasonable estimate would put the number of books in the room around two thousand. That’s a lot of words….

Speaking of assets, my father got me a new one….a new Asus EeePC….in the most gorgeous casing ever….

This comes of having a father who loves new technology. With this addition, we now have one desktop, two laptops and a netbook at home, not counting SB’s Mr Mac and Baby Acer. That’s a total of six computers for four people, one of whose only claim to computer literacy is knowing where the power button is on his Toshiba….seriously. This person is now making noises over the dinner table about the new Macintosh OS like it could invent the cure for AIDS, solve Obama’s headache over the US health system, and resolve the conflict in Afganistan all at the same time. I totally foresee a new Mac something coming our way in the near future…..

SCREWED UP FORMATTING

2009-09-20T21:13:00.001+08:00

OK....I know I shouldn't have updated to Internet Explorer 8.

Now the formatting is all screwed up and I'm tearing pieces off my scalp....

Arrrgh.....

SIGNS OF LIFE

2009-09-20T21:10:00.006+08:00

Finally….some signs of life….

I haven’t felt much like blogging recently. Oh, things do still pass through my head. I come across something interesting and I still think “Wow, I want to write about that.” My life is still moving on, but I get this incredible resistance when I think about sitting down in front of the computer, much less switch it on and blog about it.

In actual fact, I have rarely switched on my computer these few weeks. I got extremely grumpy the other day when I was forced to switch on my PC to check on some online application status for my mother. I have not updated some personal logs for weeks, and goodness only knows what is going on in Facebook and the various blogs I have been following, because I have not been updating.

I get these moods sometimes, where I simply feel like being out of touch with the world. During these periods, I am anti-communication technology. I hate to come into contact with computers, mobile phones etc, anything which has the ability to connect me to the world at large. Even the ringing of the house landline irritates the hell out of me. Basically, I check my emails and answer calls and reply SMSes about once in a blue moon during this time. It would have proven most inconvenient, if I hadn’t lost quite a few of my friends and acquaintances the last time the mood struck, so there are less people who I need to communicate with these days. Haha. In fact, most people around me are now aware of this quirk of mine and take it in their stride (with a few swear words) if they can’t get me.

I swear….it is almost exhilarating to go on a communication sabbatical once a while.

These moods normally coincide with my feeling extremely down. The typical “I don’t want to talk” moods that husbands sometimes subject wives to (haha), but this is between me and the whole world. So I mope around and brood, generally feeling unhappy. Been reading a lot to take my mind of things, but like all forms of escape, it works up to a point, and then we have got to sit up and face the world.

My unhappiness, of course, revolves mainly around the “work doldrums” that I have been in for close to year. A year! Have I really been down in the dumps for that long? When one gets to a certain age, the old adage no longer applies. Time passes quickly no matter if one is happy or not. And it doesn’t even feel like the unhappy times will be over all the quicker. It just feels like no matter how fast I run, it is still raining in front, and I will still get wet. So I will only get older faster…while feeling bad.

I have had so many discussions with myself, family, friends, colleagues on the whole “work doldrums” thing, trying to see what kind of changes I should and most importantly, can make to make myself feel better. The thought of feeling like this for the next forty years of my life, just horrifies me. I just cannot bear to think of it….hence all the escapism…but….I also cannot continue like this, so I must face the music and make a decision.

Nice thought.

But, I draw a blank.

Because I am a poor, greedy, lazy, cowardly and untalented peep, that’s why. I don’t like what I’m doing now, but at the same time, NO other options are acceptable because they all either require capital, special skills, risk taking, or all three, or will give me less money than I get now. I basically want to have my cake and to eat it too.

Heck, even a prostitute or rich man’s mistress has to have some face and figure and some schmooze ability. Oh yes, that option did come up.

I think I had the right of it in my profile description. I want all the time (and money) in the world to do nothing.

Oh, the truth hurts.

So after all the soul searching, there is still no conclusion.

And so I continue status quo. And hope and pray that any one or all of these happen in the near future:

Mum strikes lottery
Money drops from the sky
I meet a rich man who will take care of me and mine for the rest of my life
SB meets a rich man who will take care of her and hers (which means including me) for the rest of her (and my) life.

We all know the odds of the above happening.

But, darn it, a girl’s got to do something when she can’t do anything.

FOOD THINGS

2009-08-30T17:13:00.001+08:00

There was an article in this morning’s Straits Times LifeStyle about Tanjong Katong Road becoming the next foodie haunt, joining its sister streets of Katong, Geylang and Joo Chiat.

Tanjong Katong Road holds many memories for me. It is where I spent four of some of the happiest years in my career as a student. My school has since moved away from the area, but every time I pass by the place, the sense of nostalgia is so strong, that sometimes I linger by the roadside just to wallow in the past for a little while. Therefore, I am rather excited at the combination of my childhood memories and one of my other passion – good food.

Incidentally, my Saturday lunch haven was also mentioned in the same article. I am glad for their sake, and hopes the article brings them more custom. For my own though, I entertain mixed feelings about the additional traffic that may come by, because one of the nicest thing about the place is the lack of crowds. How nice to be able to walk in on the spur of the moment and spend a leisurely hour enjoying a meal, without feeling guilty about the massive queue forming outside the restaurant. EP and I used to joke about our favourite food places closing down eventually due to lack of traffic, when that was the very thing that attracted us about the places. It seems that we can’t have our cake and eat it after all.

By the way, last week, I was again asked by another wait staff at the same place (whom I don’t remember seeing before) if “I was the lady who takes Muay Thai classes down the road and blogged about the restaurant”. I am left to wonder if the entire staff had read the fateful post . I have quite gotten over the initial embarrassment and the lack of anonymity from the last time and am wallowing a little in the attention, small as it may be. I am after all, only one of the millions who are likely to be stuck in mediocrity for the rest of our lives. Occasions which confer some or any sort of individualism, which allows us to rise above that mediocrity for even just a second, are to be treasured. Everyone needs to indulge in some narcissism occasionally.

On the same occasion, the wait staff who took my order also remembered exactly what I ordered two weeks before, and took earnest pains to clarify my order exactly the way I wanted it. At a neighbouring table, I could hear another staff painstakingly and enthusiastically making detailed recommendations to the party. The wait staff at this joint may sometimes come across as being young and lacking certain polish found in wait staff in bigger, posher restaurants, but I have never come across a more earnest and sincere crew than the one here. In the current service-challenged atmosphere in the local service and retail sector, I have to congratulate the owners of Foo House Café for their great service crew.

Oh, just to update, I still haven’t managed to try anything else on Foo House’s menu other than the pork chops. Damn Chinese foible of mine, this great love of pork.

Back to the Straits Times article, I noticed that in the listing of restaurants on Tanjong Katong Road, there is a Korean restaurant named Full House, located right beside Foo House Café & Bar. Foo House, Full House – I wonder if there was a deliberate attempt at synchronizing by the owners? English, you have to love it sometimes.

On a side note, I gained 4 kg in the last two months, which I am now struggling to lose again. An entire wardrobe is at stake. Perhaps I shouldn’t be reading and obsessing about good food at all. But it is so hard when the typical Singaporean mantra keeps popping up – Eat first, talk later.

FAMILY TOGETHEREDNESS

2009-08-30T17:06:00.000+08:00

SB is back from Tokyo for a short three-week holiday.

Although I really do not want to inflate her ego any larger than it currently is, life feels colourful again with her around. Despite our extremely opposite natures and outlook in life, there is really no substitute for each other’s company. There is no subterfuge with each other.

Family times feel happier, as the parents wallow in the joy of having the family complete together again. And of course, SB has been playing filial daughter these three weeks, supposedly to make up for the times when she couldn’t be with them physically, a sharp contrast to my usual un-interactive self.

Three weeks is two thirds over. Another week or so and we have to say goodbye, till we next meet again. Another two weeks to get over the emptiness in the adjacent bedroom until next February. Rinse and repeat for another three years. And then we may be able to open the family home doors to welcome back Dr SB. T, future professor, Media Studies, XX University; the dearest wish of my ever-ambitious daddy.

For me, it is enough that SB, sister of JT, comes back to roost in the same nest. To share leisurely afternoon teas in chi-chi hotels, to pore over magazines, discuss haute couture and share strategies for catching rich expat husbands or young toy-boy lovers, to discuss whether we prefer Carrie Bradshaw’s or Samantha Jones’ lifestyles.

Goodbye, till we meet again then, Doc.

IT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED HERE TOO

2009-08-16T15:56:00.000+08:00

SB posted a link to this article on Facebook.

I think it would have struck a chord with many, many classical music enthusiasts. I would venture to say that most of us who profess to love and enjoy music would have reacted the same way too, when faced with the myriad demands of city life. I know I would have.

This also brings to mind Li Yundi’s recent performance in Singapore and the audience’s reaction, as reviewed here and here. In this case, it was exactly the opposite situation. Audiences were cheering what was apparently a lousy performance, just because it was performed by a big name.

Something to think about. And reflect on.

WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF THE CHINESE MONKEY GOD MEETS THE NORSE GOD OF MISCHIEF?

2009-08-16T01:10:00.002+08:00

I recently started reading Sherrilyn Kenyon, a paranormal romance author, who is well-known for her Dark-Hunter series of books. I don’t normally indulge in the paranormal subgenre, my favourite being historical romances set in the Middle Ages. However, recent authors such as Kenyon have “Tolkeinised” their novels so well that it is hard not to be caught up.

By that, I refer to the almost complete alternate worlds and characters that they have created, which have become so involved and detailed that it seems almost believable. One paranormal romance author, Christine Feehan, has gone so far as to start creating a language for her chosen race, the Carpathians. Not unlike Tolkein’s elvish.

Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Dark-Hunter series interests me mainly because it centers around the gods and goddesses of the Greek pantheon, a newly created Atlantis pantheon and various fantasy races – some based on existing mythology, others newly created. I enjoy her novel interpretations of the Greek mythology, especially with regards to the relevance of the Olympus gods in modern American society. I laughed my head off when one of the characters called Dionysus the “God of Drunken Frat Boys” - so appropriate!

The background story behind Kenyon’s series is the strife between the Greek pantheon and the Atlantis pantheon. In her writing, she has also made reference to interactions of the Greek pantheon and other pantheons. For example, one of the books made a reference to the goddess Ma’at, and some others mentioned Loki, the Norse god of Mischief. Her writing made me think of a celestial realm made up of various pantheons, which are capable of interacting with each other, warring and forming alliances etc. Kind of mirroring the human realm, really.

I was so fascinated that I stopped to do a little searching on the internet to see if such interactions actually happened in the real myths. There seems to be some reference to the Egyptian goddess Isis in the Greek myths apparently. This development was understood to happen during the Cleopatra’s sojourn in Greece. Interesting how political developments on earth gets mirrored in Olympus. But I couldn’t find anything else. Imagine how it would be in like in our current global village situation. How would Zeus deal with the Jade Emperor? Imagine the Chinese Monkey God meeting Loki. Who would prevail?

Anyway, in my search, I came across this online “encyclopedia” of the various pantheons – Godchecker.com. I can’t vouch for the accuracy of all the featured gods and goddesses, but the tongue in cheek writing makes for an extremely chuckle inducing read. I quote an excerpt from the introduction to the Greek pantheon:

Greek Mythology is a veritable blockbusting soap opera. What can ZEUS possibly get up to next - and with whom? How will HERA take her next revenge? Where will APHRODITE discard her nightie? Who has been barred from Olympus lately - and why? When is the next big punch-up? And will HERMES be sued for selling counterfeit sheep?

Indeed. Just what I have always thought. Hollywood should do a series on the Olympus gang. Which should be good for at least four or five seasons. An maybe an Emmy’s or two.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SINGAPORE!

2009-08-09T22:37:00.007+08:00

We are 44 years old today. And as cheesy as it may be, for this one day, for that two hours watching the National Day parade on television, I am proud that I am a Singaporean.

Singaporeans have often been criticized for being overly proud, or even arrogant about our achievements as a nation. But then, to be fair, do we not have some justification? After all, we celebrate the fighting spirits of those who push on in life despite obstacles of illness, poverty etc. As a nation which is just a little dot on the world map, with no natural resources, we are a metropolitan city with world famous brands in just over forty years. We have put our stamp on the world. We play on the same field as countries with hundreds and thousands of years behind them. Have we not shown the same spirit?

To quote one of the national songs:

There was a time when people said
That Singapore won’t make it, but we did
There was a time when troubles seemed too much
For us to take, but we did
We built a nation, strong and free, reaching out together
For peace and harmony

Excerpt from “We are Singapore”

So, Happy Birthday Singapore. I am proud and happy to be a Singaporean.

They didn’t perform my favorite song at the National Day Parade today, so I’ll just treat myself to a little music video.

Edit: I couldn't get the video embedded for some reason. Those interested can try this link.

Home (Music and Lyrics: Dick Lee)

Whenever I am feeling low
I look around me and I know
There’s a place that will stay within me
Wherever I may choose to go
I will always recall the city
Know every street and shore
Sail down the river which brings us life
Winding through my Singapore

Chorus:
This is home truly, where I know I must be
Where my dreams wait for me, where that river always flows
This is home surely, as my senses tell me
This is where I won’t be alone,
For this is where I know it’s home

When there are troubles to go through
We’ll find a way to start anew
There is comfort in the knowledge
That home’s about its people too
So we’ll build our dreams together
Just like we’ve done before
Just like the river which brings us life
There’ll always be Singapore

MY COVER IS BLOWN!

2009-08-09T15:03:00.004+08:00

I started Muay Thai training again this week after a hiatus of close to a month, and had the occasion to visit my regular Saturday lunch place again since I was in the area.

I was happily enjoying my Hainanese pork chops when one of the wait staff came up to say hello, and commented that he hadn’t seen me some time. Nothing surprising there. Then he proceeded to thank me for my support....ok….I was a bit surprised but I guess I could be considered a regular supporter. So I accepted with grace. And then came the next bit – “Thank you for your kind comments on your blog.”

Huh? Huh??? Huh???????

I HAD made a post about the place some time ago here. But I seriously didn’t expect someone I barely exchanged five sentences with to know about it. Especially since I don’t walk around with my blog address tattooed on my forehead.

So….huh? Huh??? Huh??????

It seems that his bosses, the owners of the place, regularly surf the internet for reviews and comments of their restaurants and stumbled on my post. So this wait staff read it as well, and from the various other references I made in the post, deduced that the blog belongs to me. Well, I guess there were probably not a lot of females taking Muay Thai classes nearby who always ask for pork chops and salads on Saturday afternoons.

It was really quite disconcerting to be found out like that. Not that I have anything to hide, really, but still….it meant that I was no longer just Customer X. It meant that this wait staff now knew more about me than most people, especially those whom I have only spoken five sentences to. I am not so sure I enjoy the quick “intimacy”. I am not that kind of girl….haha.

And part of my embarrassment stems from the fact that he, and others, might have read my other posts and we all know what I wrote in them, all the whining and whinging of a thirty plus year old….the thought just made me want to dig a hole and hide somewhere. Despite entering the thirties and trying to be as open and sophisticated about these things as I can, I just can’t manage the blasé attitude when they hit me right in the face.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that the internet is REALLY not as anonymous as we believe. Or rather, it may be, but fate has a way of outing technology. This feels like one of those “truth is stranger than fiction” moment. What are the odds, really?

Oh, by the way, my “support” garnered myself a ten percent discount on my final bill. Cool.

Just as a matter of interest, I tried to google for my blog post on the restaurant. I found many reviews – all good, but I just couldn’t find mine. Which begs the question how the owners found it.

Fate again?