Tuesday, February 28, 2006

A Desert on a Hot Day

I go through phases where I like a certain type of food and I hanker for it all the time. Sometimes the hankering is quite detrimental because I want sinful food. My most detrimental hankering was for Gummi Bears a few years ago. I had just broken up with a guy who I had been going out with for 6 years. Needless to say, I wasn't in very good shape and was far too nauseated to stomach anything. My poor brother, in an attempt to get me to eat something, bought me gummi bears for diabetics- quick energy I suppose. And I polished off the entire bag and asked for more. My system soon associated it to be comfort food and constantly demanded it. My favourite ones were the greeen, apple flavoured ones and I began to have grades for the gummi bears. Some tasted better than others and soon enough, I had sniffed out all the right places to buy gummi bears. It was still okay at the point when I was still upset over the break up because I still wasn't eating as much as I should. And by the time I got my appetite back, I was off to Oz. Yet another shock to my system that was made easier by gummi bears- a whole kilo of it that a friend had kindly bought for me as a going away present.

That went on for about six months in Oz, thereby facilitating my freshmen ten.

Gummi Bears

Thank goodness, I got over that phase and found another. There was the Starburst phase, the raspberry soda phase (thank goodness I got over that one), garlic bread phase and the Bubble Tea phase (this was in my final year and all the weight I lost after first year was rapidly put back with this phase. Afterall, at the height of it, I was drinking two cups a day with all that sugar and all that tapioca starch).

One thing I learnt about my hankering for food is that it doesn't mean it won't make a repeated appearance, although I am thankful that the gummi bear one hasn't come round again. The bubble tea one did. Thankfully, sans bubbles. I found a less sinful replacement in the form of jelly in the drink and have not looked back since.

This is aided by the fact that my aunt runs one of these stalls and makes the most awesome of drinks. Regardless of weather or time of day, there is always a queue. Even though I am her niece and she has extended to me the privillege of waiting in the airconditioned comfort of the inner sanctum of her stall, I often choose to be one of common folk. So, I stand in the sweltering sun and await the cool cool relief of her fruity ice blended jelly drinks. While in the queue today, I spotted a sign that I had known was there for the longest time, but never quite noticed.

Storm in a cup

At first, I thought it was a mirage. Afterall, it was a hot day, in my conceptual memory was rapidly firing away words associated with heat. So perhaps, desert was an apparition. But upon closer inspection, it was a typo. A funny and commonly made typo. Irony in a cup. It hasn't made the experience any less. In fact, it is more endearing.

After all, it is my very own desert in a cup.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 21:49

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Monday, February 27, 2006

Brown Paper Bags

Dear 18 year olds who are currently shitting in your pants,

It's a day away from the day of reckoning and from what I gather, there is much flurry. No words of encouragement here, your fates were sealed more than 2 months ago. Just some suggestions that some of your teachers and people who have gone through this ordeal have to help you through to Wednesday.

1. Copious amounts of ice-cream, cookies, cakes, pizza, fried chicken and long phone/MSN freakouts...
2. Watch movies at Orchard Cineleisure from sundown tomorrow till mid-morning Wednesday, giving you enough time to go home, shower and look presentable at the gallows.
3. Get yourself inebriated although hangovers and results might not work well together.
4. Gather at a friend's house and freak out together through the night. Make sure the parents are cool with it though.
5. Go shopping, shopping and more shopping and spend the rest of the time mourning about how broke you are, thereby temporarily alleviating the fear and anxiety brought about by the impending results.
6. Go to the beach, stand on the breakwater and scream on top of your lungs, loud enough for Indonesia or the ships to hear you- guaranteeing the police coming round and your question of where to spend the rest of the evening will be more or less solved.
7. For the boys serving the nation (no, we did not forget you), kiwi and camo your bunkmates' faces and put toothpaste in their shoes while they're asleep. Beware the Sergeant, extras are worse than the fate that awaits you on the mainland.
8. Go our for prata and a Milo Dinosaur/Godzilla in the middle of the night. For those who have no idea what those are, it's time you tried it out.
9. For those who cannot afford 2., watch all the bad Tuesday night local television and cable offerings.
10. For the more religiously inclined, pray for divine intervention. (That's what I did, it came, but not in the way I expected it to. I did not get straight As, or Bs for that matter).

To balance this off, some suggestions of what not to do.
1. Go ape shit and start hurling things out the window- the police do not take kindly to killer litter regardless of what is to happen the next day.
2. Cut yourself, pain never solves anything plus you get ugly scars to remind you of the stupidity ten years from now.
3. Shoplift to alleviate stress- that's why we are told to keep all your records until you actually pick up your results.
4. Redo the exam paper only to discover you answered whole sections wrong.
5. Cut/Rebond/Colour your hair. Stress does strange things to your hair as is.
6. Chalk up millions of minutes on your mobile phone. You'll regret it when the bill comes a month later.
7. Borrow someone's car and take it out for a spin, especially if you don't have a license yet.
8. Take many many muscle relaxants/sleeping pills/prozac just to sleep the night before. Face it, sleep's going to be tough to come by.
9a. Break up with your significant other. It's just the stress talking.
9b. Have sex for the very first time. Once again, the stress talking. Plus you really don't want to have to deal with that fallout and the results.
10. Kill yourself- no results are ever worth that.

So, with that, all the best. Life is a box of chocolates, eat 'em.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 21:41

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The Birds and the Bees

There's been so much talk about Tammy in the last week and it didn't take very long for the video to get sent to one of our friends. We talked about it over dinner and a friend of ours labelled it "Reality Porn" and it selling in Penang for 5 ringgit. On the way home, Packrat and I agreed that the most disturbing thing about it was that this 17 year old girl was having unprotected sex. Agreed, there are many other disturbing issues behind but that was the one that stood out (pardon the pun).

So, he talked to his class today and I shall talk to mine. I hesitated momentarily since soon enough, we're going to be doing the whole Love Matters spiel again. But unlike those who sit in the ivory tower and convince themselves that the only way to teach sex ed is to preach abstinence, we know better. And Love Matters is about abstinence. Now, abstinence could work if those Rapuzels that lived in the tower could guarantee that the students we were going to teach it to haven't even thought about having sex yet. They can't. They can pretend that they haven't, when in actual fact, it has become a highly rated skill among those in the teaching profession to be able to spot girls who are in fact pregnant. I myself, do not possess a gift, but I know of some teachers who are and are more often than not, spot on.

Anyway, I will talk to them about it tomorrow. Officially, the College has on many occasions talked to the girls and boys separately, about what can be expected of them in a relationship and this is outside the official Love Matters stuff, but it's still, in my opinion, not enough. When you tell a girl that being alone with a boy could lead to many things and possibly sex and pregnancy, there's a whole lot in between that's missed out and they need to know all that as well. We're still a long way from dressing a banana up with a condom.

Our kids have been so imbued with pregnancy being the dangerous outcome of having sex that it is all they protect themselves against, if they protect themselves at all. Problem is, that's not enough. Not the way things are going. So, abstinence can take a back seat tomorrow. They're going to hear more than just that from me. It's easy to say "don't do it", but as Tammy has shown, kids nowsadays face more than just that and they need a cliff notes version of it.

Five things to do to keep yourself safe.
1. Don't have sex.
2. If you do have sex, ALWAYS use a condom.
3. If you do have sex, don't ever video yourself regardless of the kink factor.
4. If you do have sex, and accidentally video yourself, erase the video and empty your trashcan. The phone goes out with you, it's akin to carrying porn of yourself in your bag if you don't.
5. If you can't trust yourself to do any of this, refer back to 1.

Alternatively, I could teach abstinence-plus.
We commissioned a report about a year ago on Sex Education in public schools,
and, well, this is it. [drops the report on C.J.'s desk]
What's it say?
It's not good.
How's it not good?
It says basically that teaching abstinence only doesn't work-
that people are going to be prone to have sex whether they're cautioned
against it or not.
Well, what are they recommending?
Something called "abstinence plus".
Abstinence plus?
What's that mean?
Well, Sam's renamed it 'everything but'.
Everything but?
They want teachers to teach...

The West Wing- "Take Out The Trash Day"

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 20:31

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Thursday, February 23, 2006


You know when it's a strange day when you walk into the washroom and it's all bright and sunny and when you walk out, it's pouring. Either the weather's turned bizarre or I lost time and was in the washroom for a VERY long time.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 09:51

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I wanted to start real work at 8.45 this morning. But Blogger was being so pesky and claimed that the blog I was looking for did not exist. A few re starts and eventually using IE to post has made me an extremely cranky person who is an hour late on her own work schedule.


Ondine tossed this thought in at 09:38

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Food for Champions

I have a new niece. This time, I've been around from the start. With my brother's kids, I saw them for the first time, in real baby flesh at 4 months and 2 months respectively. We saw Baby Janine for the first time when she was two hours old. So that's a first for me. My in-laws are out of the country, they figured that if they were back a week before my sister-in-law's due date, it would give them ample time to be the excited grandparents that they are. Unfortunately, Janine had different ideas.

As the elder brother and sister-in-law, we felt that we had to step up to the plate and stand in for the parents till they get back later this week. So we have. We were there to give the obligatory oohs and aahhs and shushes when the baby fussed as well as the barely concealed evil eyes at the marauding relatives that must have forgotten that the mother had to be exhausted and overwhelmed from the delivery and the entire experience and needed some quiet.

We also discovered that the new mother wanted tasty food. Hospital food is bland. And perhaps, it was the hormones talking. Nourishment! They cried out. And I guess that's why a mother's first month is filled with nutritious food and baby hamper packages include Yomeishu and Brands Essence of Chicken. But, Packrat and I, having never gone through the ordeal and having an inordinate dislike for ginger decided on our own version of nutritious, confinement food- spaghetti with meatballs. Yes, we will have broad looks of blatant disapproval, but the only approval we need is from the Mommy and we made Mommy happy so in our opinion, it was a job well done. .

Anyway, the new family goes home today and it'll be the beginning of a brand new rollercoaster ride for them. Hopefully Baby Janine sleeps through most of it, like this....


...sans the bright pink blanket anyway. Aunty Ondine will make sure she gets a prettier one.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 08:19

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Monday, February 20, 2006

Exercise Your Music Muscle

If you're really bored, try and figure how many music groups there are in the picture. There are 74.

music muscle

I'll load up the answers in a day or two. =)
Meanwhile, enjoy.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 21:36

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All Closed

There are days when I absolutely abhor the food sold at the hawker centre. I cannot bear the thought of eating it. Those are days when I bring food from home. I make sandwiches or pasta or rice or something baked, just to break the monotony. There are also days when I don't have time to go out for lunch.

Today was one of those days. Not much time for lunch. But at the same time also, not satisfied with the cheese sandwiches that I brought. Of course, the sandwiches were meant to keep me till lunch, where I would indulge in something hot and cooked. Unfortunately, I had a meeting. Which meant, I couldn't go out and eat. I did the next best thing. Ask those who were going out to buy me something. And buy me what I eat when I have absolutely no idea what I want to eat- fish ball soup.

fish ball noodles.

I spent all my time in class, cold and looking forward to the hot, steaming tasty MSG laden soup and the yummy fishballs that I thought awaited my return from class. So, it didn't matter if I was struggling not to fall asleep in class. It didn't matter that my stomach could probably be heard from the back of the class. I knew I had fish ball soup to go back to. I guess, that's what they mean when they say it's a comfort food. It offers comfort and sometimes hope.

Problem was, when I got back to my desk, there was nothing in sight. At that point, there was already a niggling feeling there. But perhaps, they weren't back yet since the colleagues themselves had to have lunch. So, I went off for my meeting, still hopeful. This was a meeting that required my laptop, so half way through the meeting, my IM bleeped the fateful message.
Colleague: Alllllll the fish ball stalls were closed!!!!!!
Horrors! I couldn't concentrate on the meeting thereafter. And it wasn't like I could go in search of my own fishball soup. I had to be back in class in 15 minutes. So, I sulked a little, complained a lot, sought solace in the massage chair in the lounge and swearing that I will by hook, or by crook, find fishballs for dinner. If I fail to locate them for dinner, then I will be forced to conclude that there is a conspiracy out there! To keep me from my fishballs.

It's a cruel cruel world.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 15:38

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Sunday, February 19, 2006

Ten ways of screwing up your child

Because we are teachers and come across over 200 new names a year and because we are at an age where people around us are having children and trying to name said children, we've been having a lot of fun with names. But we've also realised it's the perfect way of screwing up one's kids and guaranteeing that the child will spend many unhappy and expensive hours in therapy.

Here are some of the suggestions or names we have actually come across.

1. Valentino, Valentini, Valencino, Valencini and Valentina for an alliteratively big familiy
2. Gucci, Prada and Louis Vuitton for the fashion inclined.
3. Holland, Sembawang and Leonie for those locationally inclined.
4. Precious Faith for the LOtR inclined
5. Stamford and Raffles for the colonially inclined
6. Casafina, Savannah, Tropicana for the condo inclined
7. Othello, Macbeth and Ophelia for the tragedy inclined
8. Nebuchanezzar and Napoleon for the power inclined
Bolda, Bilda, Blida for those alliteratively inclined
10. Vita, Vitalis, Vito for those who liked number 9.

Our favourite that will totally screw our kid up will be Tawny Totie Tan. Such wonderful alliteration and such potential for disaster.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 21:33

3 thoughts...

Frankly Speaking

With great annoyance, I remembered this morning that once again, there would be no Gilmore Girls this evening. And I thought to myself, I've had it. So, I did this.


Dear Editor,

I was a fan of the West Wing and a fan of Gilmore Girls. It was with great annoyance that I discovered the television station's penchant of knocking off these shows for weeks on end for lesser shows or worse yet, repeat telecasts of reality or local programmes. The West Wing was a highly intellectual and stimulating show that touched on political and social issues in a way that no other show did. By screening it at close to midnight where most people who watch it and have jobs are asleep, or on late Saturday afternoon was just asking for ratings to be less than desired, which of course gave you more ammunition to put it a yet an even less desirable time slot.

Gilmore Girls, on the other hand, seems to be the victim to the repeat telecasts of lengthy and repeated screenings of antiquated and highly censored Hollywood movies being passed off as Sunday Night Blockbuster.. Gilmore Girls Season 5 took a break from Sunday evening for so many weeks that almost everyone had forgotten that it was still running. Many viewers leapt for joy when it finally reared its head the Sunday after CNY only to be told, through ticker tape at the bottom of the screen that it would once again be taking a break till the 5th of March. And this was just after one episode of its reappearance on 5. The problem with this is the sense of continuity. Viewers lose interest because they forget the plot lines. And because it is just too darn difficult to keep track of what time and when the next episode is, they come to one of two conclusions. Either they give up totally, in which case the station loses viewers again- often to cable television. Of course, this once again allows the television station to perpetuate the myth that only local television programmes are popular and allowing the station to justify airing a weaker and less entertaining selection. The other solution viewers have, is to wait and buy the DVD series. Gilmore Girls Season 5 and the West Wing Season 6 are already available on DVD so instead of being at the mercy of the programming eccentricities of the television station, for ardent fans, it is much more painless and a great deal more enjoyable to just buy the DVD and ditch Channel 5 altogether.

Just because Channel 5 is the only English television channel, it does not give one the license to screw around with the programming this badly. Viewers always have a choice and in this case, the choice puts the station at a severe disadvantage. I would hesitate to become like many of my peers who do not watch anything on free to air television and end up watching just cable or DVDs because after all, I do pay a television and radio license and this means, I am a legitimate consumer that should not let the television station get away with such shoddy programming.

Thanks very much for your time. And it's fine by us if this doesn'tt win the letter of the month and the cool station memorabilia.

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Ondine tossed this thought in at 10:45

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Saturday, February 18, 2006

One Race Wonder

So the road run was today and so I ran it, despite the UTI. And I won it, despite all the pressure that has been heaped on me and was heaped on me this morning. The only thing, I didn't know was what my time was so I didn't know how fast I should have been running, so I didn't know how close I was to breaking the record, so I didn't break the record.

Everyone's consolation is that I should just aim to cut the time next year. But I don't think I will. I think I'd like be known as "the one who ran very fast that one year and got called sexy on the podium". I think this will be my first and my last time. Not even if they gave me a corner office with a view and more money. But this, they don't know yet. Come next year, I'll just quietly tell them that I have blazed to glory and there's really nothing left for me to do unless I sell myself out and have more war wounds and battle scars that I care for. So, because it's not that worth it and because it's an exhausting run that leaves you all sore, exhausted and reeling, once is enough.

At least it was a good one.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 18:02

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Thursday, February 16, 2006

A taste of good medicine

I woke up twice last night to pee and thought that puzzling because I didn't have that much water to drink last night. And when I finally woke to go to school, my tummy hurt in a very strange way- as if I had held my pee in for so long that my body was punishing me for it. Usually when that happens, it goes away after a bit. But through the morning, it got more uncomfortable. By late morning, it was decided, I should see a doctor because perhaps I have UTI.

So I do. But because I've been drinking so much water, it's inconclusive if I have UTI , but I present the symptoms, so the need for antibiotics but I have an aversion to antibiotics- my body hates it more than it hates fat- so let's try to find an alternative.

The alternative- cranberry juice. Copious amounts of it.

Finally, a solution that I like. I like cranberries. I like cranberry juice. I approve of cranberry juice. Now if this weren't so uncomfortable, it'd be my favourite ailment.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 19:02

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Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Valentine's Day Part Deux

Now that I've given the rose-tinted version of Valentine's Day, it's now time to break the rose tinted lenses about yesterday. The annoyance and irritation that sane people who refused to get taken for the dinner for $800 (including roses, champagne, chocolates and an instant photograph), $80 bouquet (2 roses and a whole bunch of filler flowers) ride had to put up with...

It was downright impossible to run a class with interuptions every five minutes by groups delivering flowers, balloons and singing telegrams. It got to a point where I growled in exasperation that the next group that came in would incur the wrath of an already irritated teacher and would most possibly get throttled for it. The response that was muttered sotto voce around the class was "Sour Grapes...". Of course, that immediately warranted the patented look of death. Not only do I have to put up with interuptions, I have deal with impudent students.

I have nothing against Valentine's Day. I used to get huge bouquets of flowers and we used to go out for dinner and all that jazz. But we've since wisened up to it. Problem is the majority of the population hasn't and we are inundated by allergy inducing pollen from lilies and having to stare at the limp, stored for the last month in cold storage roses and giant stuffed toys. And there is also the case of not being able to find a simple place to eat at. Even places that don't generally serve good food and have sucky service and fast food joints had long snaking lines.

Where do normal people eat on Valentine's Day? Our conclusion was at home so we mossied over to the nearest supermarket and picked up a roast chicken and headed home. Even that was difficult. On weekends, Packrat is annoyed at the state of drivers on the road. He is convinced that all the morons get released from the cages for the weekend. Yesterday, he revised that to, weekend and public holidays. I don't know if it's because people are making out or feeling one another up while driving but there sure were a whole lot of morons out there.

So, I'm glad it's over. I can't understand why people need a day to celebrate love when as corny as it sounds, it should be celebrated all the time. Not just on a single arbitrary day in a year and be mean to your significant other the rest of the time.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 09:43

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Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Happy Fiendship Day

That was on a card I got this morning. Fortunately, it was not meant to be an attack on me and I wasn't being called a fiend for my behaviour in class. Unfortunately, it was a typo by an 18 year old who has, for the last 12 years of his life, learnt English.

Anyway, it's Friendship day in school. That means the kids are carrying enough candy around to give an entire country rotteh teeth and a toothache. There are also a million wilting roses paraded like little trophies. A day like that is akin to a day of reckoning. How popular you are is demonstrated by how many flowers, ballons, gifts, stuffed toys you receive. Girls carry around HUGE paper bags filled to the brim with gifts, proudly.

It's also a day where different clubs in the college are excused from classes. Nothing they like better. An official excuse to be anywhere but class. There're singing telegrams, flower and balloon delivery service, all in the name of friendship.

I received two singing telegrams and they were hilarious. It's sweet when the students serenade teachers. It's awkward for the teacher because you're standing there with a goofy smile on your face. And bordering on the bizarre when they dedicate songs like Love, Me by Collin Raye. A song primarily about eloping and the sadness and loss of a very loved one. So, did they want me to elope with them? Or were they promising to mourn the loss of me?

It's always amazed me that people dedicate it over the radio, declaring undying love for one another. Do they not listen to lyrics? I'm quite a spazz when I listen to songs, I hear, but I don't really listen. So I never know what songs mean, unless I make a concerted effort to sit down and listen to it. But even then, it didn't take me very long to figure out that Love, Me was not a happy song.

Well, the kids are lapping it all up and I won't deny them of it. It's one of those things they'll remember of college. I remember being given a wilted rose and a CD clock. And the CD title was "How Many Ways do I Love Thee?". Yup. I never went out with the boy. He made the unfortunate mistake of trying to impress me by giving himself a French name- Jean Pierre. How do you take that seriously? He was a nice boy and we became friends, but I think the day of his christening, I laughed all the way to class.

Ah, the foibles of youth.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 10:16

2 thoughts...

Sunday, February 12, 2006

All sorts of jams

This weekend is an important weekend for different races in Singapore. The Hindu community was celebrating Thaipusam which culminates into a procession through the city. A great number of devotees take part, others are content lining the route taken by the devotees to support them, to pray or just to watch. The police was on hand for crowd control and en route, everywhere you turned, there were people. And because the route cuts through the city, roads had to closed. And when roads are closed, in our very tightly packed system of highly connected roads, this only means one thing. Massive congestion. Add to that, many forget that it is road first, procession route second and walk in the middle of roads that are already chock-filled with frustrated drivers.

We were in one such jam yesterday. It wasn't too bad because it allowed us to watch some of the procession. It's been a long time since I've seen a Thaipusam procession so it was interesting.

What we did not count on, were two other jams that we got ourselves caught in. One of them was also due to Thaipusam, like I said, it is quite a long route. The other that we found ourselves inadvertently stuck in was in part due to Thaipusam as well because we heeded traffic warnings to avoid the stretches of road involved in the procession. Problem is this caused yet another build up else way.

To exacerbate the situation, today is the 15th day of the Lunar New Year, making last night the night for the traditional fireworks and lantern displays by the river. The diverted route we were advised to take brought us right into the heart of the River Hong Bao at half nine when the fireworks that are meant to scare off mythical predatory beasts were set off. This meant people had once again lined the streets to watch the booming festivities and it also meant people in cars, stopping in the middle of the road to crane their necks out of the car to catch a glimpse of the fireworks. What made it even more frustrating was the ability to feel and hear the pyrotechnic explosions but not see it because we were blocked by buildings. And by the time all those cars that had stopped to watch the display, started their engines and inched down the lane and we managed to get into the clear, the fireworks had ended, for the rest of the lunar year.

Bugger that.

3 jams, all interconnected. Times like these drive home the fact that our island is far too small. Time to move to a larger one.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 07:28

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Friday, February 10, 2006

Money Well Spent

When I graduated with top honours at uni, all my dad could say to that was "well, at least it wasn't money wasted".

Well, Dad, according to this online test, it really wasn't. :)

But then again, I should also be a dancer (too little too late) or an anthropologist (er, no thank you!)

You scored as Psychology. You should be a Psychology major!





























What is your Perfect Major?
created with QuizFarm.com

Ondine tossed this thought in at 09:18

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Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Why I don't want to run.

I'm done for the day but I'm still in school. Not because of work (of course there's work. There's always work. Work is always there) but because I promised a colleague I'd go run with him later. He's not fat. It's just that the college road run rears its ugly head around this time of year. Making all the usually sedentary teachers buy new running shoes and try to get themselves into some state of fitness.

It's my first year doing this. I've managed to stay out of the country the past few years. I don't really want to do it. It's really too much pressure. People have been coming up to me and asking if I was going to win the thing. They know I run. And they think that because I run on a regular basis, I should have no problems with this.

Theoretically, I shouldn't. I cover twice the distance on a regular run. Problem is I don't like the pressure. It reminds me of days gone by where everytime I put on a pair of running shoes, the time and position mattered. And the position expected was the one that glittered gold.

So now, I run recreationally. I run because it allows me to clear my head and because it allows the feeling of sluggishness to dissipate. A student pointed out to me a while back that running a lot didn't necessarily translate into it being a passion. And no, I don't think I'm passionate about running. I don't think of better ways to run or to improve the way I run. I'm quite happy running the same route, or a different route. I'm easy about what I run in. Packrat and Tym need their music to run. Plus the dri-fit tops and what not. Me? I'll run in anything sleeveless and music is optional. But even then, it's not a passion.

I stopped running for many many years because I didn't want to anymore. Call it running fatigue. A true passion I feel, doesn't experience fatigue. So that's where I am, on this topic of running. I don't want it to have to be about winning, to be about being the best.

The problem is, there is a part of me that wants to win, and wants to be the best and ironically, it was shaped by all this running. The rest of me, shuns this part of me because it's the part of me that used to make me throw up before competitions, that made me cry when I didn't win, or when I hit the hurdle, tripped and fell, when I didn't clock a respectable time. It's that part of me that made me run with torn muscles, twisted ankles, chicken pox and in all sorts of weather. So, most of me, doesn't like me.

And now, there is a battle of wills going on. The competitive side is struggling to show its stuff, to show off, to break away from the pack and win the run by minutes. The other side of me just wishes that there was a reason I could come up with to not run and say, maybe walk the entire thing.

Oh well, I'm leaving it to divine intervention.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 15:07

3 thoughts...

Saturday, February 04, 2006


For some strange reason, even though this has been a short work week, Packrat and I are both totally wiped out. The plan this morning was, I'll wake up and get him to drop me off at the club to gym (I'm taking what people say about doing weight bearing exercise to prevent osteoporosis) before he goes off to tuition. And I'd stay there and work till he gets done.

Good plan. Problem is the flesh is weak.

I couldn't get myself to get dressed, much less imagine being on the stepper or the treadmill for half an hour. So, I begged out and told him I'd make my way into town and meet him after tuition. That was at 9 this morning.

9.45 am- After the reading the paper and pondering how to fashion the current race issue into a lesson and having a high sugar breakfast (Kellogs must learn to make less sweet cereal Raisin Bran cereal), I crawled back into bed. To try to motivate myself to grade papers, I text KW who I know has got papers to grade too to ask if she wanted to meet somewhere and mark. Problem is, KW is equally wiped ( What went on this week???). So I pass out.

10.40 am- I haul ass out of bed and determined to start the day. I manage a shower and get distracted by the huge pile of bills that need to be filed.

11.00am- I find a file to shove all the bills into (There really is NO energy to do any sort of filing today) and start packing my bag to go out.

11.15 am- I find an application form for some credit card thing that I've been meaning to do so I sit down and fill it in. I need to find a power and cable bill to complete this.

11.30 am- I resume packing my bag and looking at my diary, discover that neither of us have called the Hog's Breath Cafe to make reservations for dinner.

11.45 am- 15 minutes later, I have a reservation for early dinner after a very pleasant conversation with the hostess who talks me through the menu both a-la-carte and set and dining options (al fresco or indoors). I resume packing my bag after.

12.00pm- I shut all the windows in the house (it threatens to rain) and decide what shoes I should wear out.

12.05 pm- I lock the door behind me, put on my Ipod and walk to the lift.

12.06 pm- Packrat texts to say he's coming home because tuition got cancelled.

Right. I took so long to leave the house that my husband beat me to it and is coming home. I need to get moving just a little bit faster.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 12:19

2 thoughts...

Friday, February 03, 2006

Brokeback, Tight Slap

Conversation with my brother this morning.

Bro: No class, ah?Anyway in today's life, got one 18yr old whining about Brokeback Mountain rated R21, so she cannot see. Want to complain. Please scold her.
Me: You want me to go around and scold every 18 year old girl?
Bro: But this one really quite selfish, she want the movie cut so that it will pass as M18 then she can watch. And all the rest of the population will have to watch the cut version. I want to smack, but will kena throw in jail.
Me: And I won't?

So, apparently, today in Life!, an 18 year old girl is lamenting the fact that she cannot watch Brokeback Mountains. While she makes some valid arguments that it shouldn't need to be an R21 movie, her alternative goes against conventional wisdom. In essence, she says Singaporeans are mature enough to watch it. But if the Powers That Be (PTB) don't think so, then they should just censor the "offensive" love scene and release it to a broader audience base.

How is that logical? Isn't that just more ammunition for them to continue slicing and dicing? The PTB obviously aren't going to open up and see that if you show a gay film to under 21's, you're really not going to make them gay. So, they'll just take the alternative presented so nicely to them on a silver platter.

To reach a broader audience or to retain the integrity of the movie and show it in its entirety? Obviously this girl wants both. When I was about her age, we were told to see Schindler's List since we were doing European History. But we couldn't. Because it was R21 for far less a reason than Brokeback is. Of course we were miffed. And righteously indignant. What? They didn't think us old enough to see concentration camp internees, stripped and walk naked into the shower rooms of death? But I don't think it crossed our minds at that point to ask for it to be cut just so that we could watch it. I think we were more preoccupied with burning effigies of the PTB and resenting the fact that we lived in a small, myopic fishbowl society.

Little Girl, you obviously learnt how to argue some in school. But did you learn broader logic? You claim to be mature enough to watch the movie, yet you do not see the broader repercussions of what you are suggesting. We live in a society that needs little encouragement to be uber-conservative. Give them a reason, any reason (it doens't need to be logical) and they'll head right back into the stone ages. And here, you've put it in a pseudo-intelligent way for them. No spinning needed on their part. Goodness.

Another similarly articulate 18 year old suggests that you might as well use your time more productively and figure out how to get fake ID and sneak in if you really want to see it. Then, you can tell the whole world that you've seen Brokeback Mountain.

But, personally, I think maybe you should just watch I Not Stupid Too! It's PG. No need to cut. Also about contemporary issues that affect society and will open society up more.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 13:28

1 thoughts...

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Not very clever

I know it's not Monday morning, but it still feels like it. And I discovered that even though I do this (from Tym) on Thursday, I'm still not very clever. It's not just Monday.

Ondine tossed this thought in at 09:08

0 thoughts...

A Breath of Fresh Air

Traditionally, we don't celebrate Valentine's Day. And since we've gotten married, I haven't been around for Valentine's Day. I've always been in some far wintery country, trying to keep five very articulate kids from going all sorts of insane. Hmmm, just looking at the posts makes me want snow! ANYway, my point was we haven't celebrated Valentine's Day.

And I thought this year, we would, just for the fun of it and because we have Corrinne May tickets for the weekend before. And Packrat was furious that he missed the last one so I was on Sistic every day of January because there was an announcement that tickets would be released in January 2006. No date whatsoever. Just the month. Thank goodness, I got tickets, one Friday night, while Packrat was off gaming. -thrilled-

Now, we've got a nice concert to go and to make it more perfect, a nice meal somewhere. We've been on an austerity drive since the year started because of the great drainage of our savings account towards the end of last year. Initially, we were thinking of Essential Brew near us but this morning, I found the perfect place. The Hog's Breath Cafe!

One April, when we were still in uni in Melly, I freaked out because I'd stayed up 2 nights in a row to write a paper and lost the entire paper because the computer decided it was time to reboot and this was before Microsoft Word had a retrieved document function. Packrat then decided, it was time for me to leave everything behind and take a break away from my computer and my books. So, we packed up for the weekend and went off to Ballarat, 2 hours from the city and where there was really not much to do. What I do remember doing was walking over 2 hours to a Wildlife reserve only to discover it was ten minutes from the town centre. After that long walk and ten minute bus ride back into town, there was a cafe with what looked like a big plank of wood nailed up. On it was a pig and in bright coloured words "Hog's Breath Cafe". How could we resist?

So we didn't. And on top of that, I had gotten into my head that I wanted apple pie for dessert. There was a Pancake Parlour next to it and we ended up stuffing with a tall stack of pancakes and a Bavarian Apple pie thing that came with pancakes! It was indeed a happy day.

And I shall make reservations at the Hog's Breath here in Singapore and hopefully, it'll be an equally happy and contented day! =)


Of course, at this point, I'm still trying to get rid of all the CNY eating and have been staying away from meat and just eating fruit and veg. I'm not trying to lose weight. I swear!

Ondine tossed this thought in at 08:07

0 thoughts...

" Far in the stillness, a cat languishes loudly"