Settling in

Refugee reporting in from the homeless shelter. New owners have taken over the old place, new place so close to completion, but not in any habitable condition yet. Cats are totally upset, but they're spending the next couple of nights at a pet hotel (a.k.a. pet shop) while we and Q-tip are bunking in at M-i-L's. Just another day more...

Been checking out the neighbourhood in the meantime. It's only a seven minute walk to the mall, so I went whole hog and did the urbanite thing by getting a new book for the bookshelf (Gaiman's latest, "The Graveyard Book"), and reading it at the Coffee Bean while sipping a regular Black Forest ice blended. I got my watch battery changed, browsed the latest PC game releases and made inquiries about a possible HD upgrade at Starhub. Checked out the cinema on the top floor, and decided there wasn't anything worth watching this week. 

Looks like everything I might need and want is here within easy reach, plus the walk there and back should help burn off some calories while I'm at it.

Look out, sleepy backwater town, your new neighbour has arrived!

Too easy credit

June's cheques are bouncing, and that's odd because there's sufficient funds in her account, but no money is being withdrawn at all. There are no mistakes in the cheques that have been returned either, so that deepens the mystery.

When she called the bank, this is what she discovered: The cheques she was using came from a new chequebook the bank had thoughtfully sent over. However, the cheques in this book were not being drawn from her bank account, they were for a credit facility called "Cashline" which June did NOT sign up for.

Cashline acts like a credit card, except in cheque form, and the cheques June has been signing for our contractors have mostly been above the facility's credit limit, hence the bouncing. However, some of the smaller cheques did clear and, holy #%$@, there's a daily rated interest that accompanies each cleared cheque. That's so unecessary for us since we're paying everything by cash (no wonder we're so broke) and hence there is no need for us to incur any interest charge whatsoever.

Fortunately for us, the bank waived all interest charges after June kicked up A Big Fuss over how the chequbook so conveniently appeared with no proper explanation -- or even differentiation from normal bank account chequebooks -- for its use.

Banks can be too proactive with their services to their customers. Automatic approval is not always a good thing, especially when they approve things they don't inform us of beforehand. So BEWARE when receiving chequebooks in the mail. Check the account number very carefully, and make sure it tallies with an account you are familiar with, before using.

Current status of June's Cashline chequebook: shredded and burned, existing only as a carbon emmission polluting the upper atmosphere.

Thank you for the music

There isn't much music that can truly be described as "evergreen", but if anyone deserves the appellation, ABBA does. ABBA may be a guilty pleasure to listen to now, but their brand of disco was mostly fun and baggage free, and their simple tunes and catchy beats give them extra, if unintended, longevity at the KTV lounge.

ABBA music is easy for anyone to identify with, because underneath all the fluff it captures a full range of emotions that are part and parcel of people's experiences through the many different levels of relationships they have with one another. And Mamma Mia proves that ABBA music really has something for everyone.

Mamma Mia (a.k.a. "My Big Fat Greek ABBA Wedding") essentially depicts a reunion of old friends who have not seen each other for the last 20 years. It is the wedding that brings them back together, and it becomes an opportunity to confront the secrets and issues that drove them apart all those long years ago.

Apart from exploring estranged relationships, the movie also celebrates the rock-solid friendships that have stood the test of time. It is a kind of tightness that the many years of separation cannot wear away. Old friends picking up where they had left off, each having grown in experience doing different things, yet when coming together it's like no time at all between them.

60 is indeed the new 20. The energy output of the main cast fronted by Streep and Brosnan in their dance, and all the running around they do show the great shape they're in. A generation or so ago, 60 was sagely and settled, yet these guys are still chasing dreams and are still looking for "the one". Yay for youth and life even as we grey!

As for the dance sequences, although mass dance plays a big part it isn't quite as Bollywood as some people might have described. If anything, it is both a tribute to and a parody of the Bollywood style in the simplicity of the movements and its occasional silliness (check out the "Lay all your love on me" sequence).

And through it all, ABBA music supports the action. There are a few liberties taken with the lyrics to fit the scene (even then the "Winner takes it all" sequence didn't quite make sense), but generally ABBA writes in a very conversational style such that the songs blend in easily with the spoken script. And yet, the lyrics convey a powerful emotive force, from being young and in love, to being heartbroken, to wisps of nostalgia in watching a child grow up and away.

I suppose for me, Mamma Mia gives me a little hope as I age too. I've never done anything wild and crazy, never done anything I might regret, never been a rebel and explored my own hopes and dreams (can't even remember what they were any more), but with an ABBA anthem in my 'pod and a reasonably healthy bod, I have been assured that it is never too late.

Right to die, not left to die

Would it be a good idea to legalize euthanasia* like today's ST suggests? The process sounds so easy:

"Say you are dying of an illness and your doctor pronounces that you have no more than three months to live. Worried that your last days will be racked with unbearable pain, you ask to die.

Two doctors certify that you are of sound mind and have made the request voluntarily. They administer you with a drug overdose. Several minutes later, you are dead."

That could be the problem. If it sounds too easy, it could be too easy. Do we really want life -- anyone's life -- to end so easily?

Perhaps I'm in no position to judge at this time, but I think that the right to die should be fought for and won, rather than being freely given by the sagely nods of two doctors' heads.

We fight for everything else in life, the right to be free, the right to live, the right to be independent, the right to acquire resources, and after having fought for all that to throw everything away to excercise the right to die seems rather like a waste of everybody's time and effort to win it all in the first place.

I'm not unsympathetic to the plight of the terminally ill. I'm ok with having a process in place that will ultimately get someone what they want. I'm just saying the process shouldn't be too easy (or as easy as what ST described).

Let's go case-by-case. Wanna die badly enough? Then prove how badly you want it: fight for your right to die, win it, then die with some real pride. Who knows? The process itself could be so arduous it might actually kill you, but that's what you wanted in the first place, isn't it? Sounds like win-win to me.

*full story requires subscription

Floored and comatose

Isn't it that the older we get the less sleep we need? So why is it that this week my sleep habits are completely in disarray? Uncharacteristically, my brain has been shutting down earlier in the night than usual, on average at around 2200, and I've more often than not just fallen asleep wherever I am -- usually the nice, comfortable floor. Can't beat that back support!

Hence, I realize, no posts this week. I've been making short, almost daily updates on my t-blog with pix of the renos at the new place. Making pithy small talk with fellow homemakers has been fun, but that's about the intellectual capacity I've been able to muster these last few days.

Hot dog

Took Q-tip for a follow up exam by Doc Casey. Because she's not been exhibiting any unusual behaviour over the last week since her... excitement, Casey reduced her meds by a couple of pills.

He surmised that her unusual symptoms were due to her overheated state, which caused her heart and lungs to stress out to the point of inflammation which caused some minor tissue damage somewhere inside. Guess it was our mistake to take her for walkies in such scorching weather.

For now, we'll be administering a quarter tablet of Fortecor 5 and a capsule of anti-oxidant daily to strengthen her heart.

Next follow up will be in a month's time, then we'll see what kind of long-term meds she'll be needing, if necessary.

Entrances and exits

While there's been quite a progression of development over at the new place, it's quite a major pain to have to clear the old things we've been so comfortable living with and make way for the new occupants of our current abode.

Already, we've cleared out the entire guest room and the new owners are using it to store their stuff which they began moving in today.

The good news, for me anyway, is that they're not doing any renovations to this place but are moving in as is. Plus, they're taking over some of the stuff that we can't take with us, like the 29" CRT TV, our fridge, air-conditioning system, bookshelves and workdesk, otherwise I'd have a problem trashing them all.

Now, if only we could find a taker for the bed frame and the leather Lorenzo sofa. Doubt anyone would want the latter as it's been clawed to bits by MAUI!!!

A spot of gardening

Today was dNYel's turn to perform a little Service Learning, representing our Level on campus.

The place: Labrador Adventure Centre.

Our task: to learn something about the abundant flora that grows all around us in this neck of the woods, then add to it by digging up a plot of earth and planting some shrubbery in it.

That kind of community service is fine with me. I'd sooner pick up a tool and try to make myself useful with it than attempt to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger with baggage in that other kind of community outreach. Heck, I'm awkward enough with my friends already, let alone chat up some troubled personality.

Have to say I'm very grateful to the Photog I handed my camera over to. She took a ton of excellent pix, some of which I've uploaded here. The rest, well, let's just say they're for dNYel records.

The House Bunny

"The House Bunny" is something like a mashup of Snow White and the Seven Cinderellas. Shelley, a Bunny suddenly evicted from the Playboy Mansion, takes refuge in a sorority house about to lose its Charter due to its serious lack of appeal on campus. Its female residents are social misfits, and definitely not the type the other students want to be associated with. But Shelley works her transformative magic on them, remodelling them in her own image and overnight, the formerly outcast Zetas become the belles of the ball.

Much of the humour comes from the skillful play on stereotypes as they interact with one another. These are the people we easily identify on any given college campus, the juvenile jocks, the popular girls, and the socially awkward Zetas. But they don't always conform to "type" as the Zeta girls discover once they learn to come out of their shells.

What's interesting is that from Shelley's perspective, dealing with rejection is a matter of excercising choice and knowledge as a means to overcome the temptation to succumb to circumstance.

With Shelley's help, her plain jane charges make a startling transformation with a change of clothes, hair, cosmetics and (as we observe in their "Armageddon" strut sequence) gait. It isn't that they become beautiful, but they become interesting. Everything about them in their makeover state is eye-catching: the bright colours, shapes and lines of their clothes and accessories, their hair artfully shaped with flashes of brilliant highlights, their poise which exudes confidence and control, and their smiles reflecting their positive energy and thus their welcome to others. The image makes the first impression, then they're ready for the second layer of social contact: connecting with others through conversation.

It's in this second layer that both Shelley and the Zetas are able to help each other. The Zetas learn that behaving shallow is not the same as being shallow, and Shelley learns that not all guys are attracted by sex appeal and bimbotic behaviour.

I havent caught a movie in a long while. This one was a nice, easy one to digest.

Caution: Detour

It's a bit nutz running something like two blogs simultaneously. Anyone interested in the progress of my reno, here's the link to my t-blog thread on Renotalk.com. It's kinda' fun sort-of chatting with fellow home-builders in a show me yours and I'll show you mine exchange.

Else, I'm up to my ears in Written Reports... and is it because I've lost all objectivity or is it that they are actually starting to look quite decent?

Great expectorations

It's PW season for the J1s on campus. The majority of their project deadlines coincide over the next couple of weeks and everyone's working feverishly (we hope) to impress their assessors with what they've been working on for the last 6-7 months.

The grading criteria go by the following premises: projects are either Approaching Expectations (AE), Meeting Expectations (ME), or Exceeding Expectations (EE). Of course, the EE grade is the most coveted, and every self-respecting staff supervisor will design such training as to prepare the students for that esteemed level of achievement.

Herein lies a conundrum I've discovered between balancing out the training with the grading criteria: no matter how much I teach and train, no matter how much I consult the project groups to help them raise their level of performance, my efforts will only help them attain a Meeting Expectations (ME) grade. That's because as long as the groups do what I tell them, as long as they doggedly follow my lead, they can only Meet the Expectations I have of them. I cannot teach them to Exceed Expectations because in order to do that, they have to do more than what I have taught them to do, and to do it better than I would have done myself. Think I'm asking too much? Go look up what 'exceed' means.

PW is one subject in which "teach more, score less" applies. That's because the more is taught, the fewer the opportunities for the students to exceed expectations because we keep raising the expectation bar higher and higher. If we didn't teach so much, everything the kids do right would look like a marvel. Instead, because we have taught them so much, every deviation from the way we think is 'right' becomes a disaster.

Yes, I agree that certain basics and standards have to be laid down as foundation. The kids need a launchpad that is solid and stable enough to support their explorations -- that's our job. But beyond that, the more reluctant we are to give up our remote control, the sooner we think our kids' projects are likely to crash and burn.

PW is designed as a subject to advantage students who can take charge of the given problem, and use their own ingenuity and resources to innovate and develop a reasonable solution. Not many students can do this, hence they stand out as Exceeding Expectations. For the rest of the pack, they have to be satisfied with Meeting Expectations because they can perform as reasonably well as they have been taught. And in the grand scheme of things, that should be quite enough.

One sick puppy

Q-tip gave us a scare when we were walking her to the pet shop in Gardens this morning. According to June's report, Q-tip suddenly stopped walking and somehow ended up on her back, legs waving in the air... and spitting up blood.

Rushed her to Mt Pleasant where Dr Denise attended to her. Denise diagnosed a near heatstroke condition (it really was a rather hot day) and gave her a cool shower to bring her temperature down. What was more troubling was that her x-ray showed an enlarged heart caused by fluid retention and also fluid in her lungs. Denise explained that the heart was not working efficiently enough to pump out fluid from the internal organs like it's supposed to. (This actually sounds uncannily similar to my current state of health. Maybe I should go check it out?)

Rx: Q-tip is now on four tablets to be taken daily. Something for the heart and kidneys; a diuretic to help clear out excess fluids from her system; an antibiotic and an anti-inflammatory for her lungs.

Poor thing. On the outside she doesn't look like she's got problems, but under the hood... well, let's not panic yet. Hope the medication will do her good.

What's drivin' my fantasies

It was unreal, the realization that I have been for the last couple of years actually living out an almost 20-year-old fantasy, and I've been simply taking it for granted.

As I was driving with M2 this morning, I noticed how bright blue the sky was; and how the sun was high, lighting every visible thing up with a brilliance that made every edge, every outline stand out as sharp and clear as full 1080HD. The radio was thumping with music from my 'pod, accompanying the total and complete sense of freedom that can only come from driving down the highway in a sporty red convertible on a balmy Canadian summer's day.

'k, I'm still working on the red convertible feature, but I'm not particular about make and model. Just driving makes me happy.

That's in the morning, though. Pretty and glam though the F1 made night driving out to be, driving in the dark guided mostly by interpreting the navigation lights of other vehicles freaks me out just a tiny bit.

Then of course, there're... incidents that don't help. Like this evening, this dumb taxi made a 3-lane U-turn, suddenly cutting across my path and making me e-brake, big truck lumbering behind me threatening to smoosh me into ham 'n strawberry jam in a sandwich upon impact. Fortunately, reflexes and good brakes saved my bacon and I live to drive another day. Stupid taxis.

NYeDC graduation and farewell

Bleh. Either suffering from blog fatigue or life fatigue. Can't think of anything interesting to record in my usual long, pedantic commentary style. A couple of terse pix then to bid the NYeDC 07s farewell. Today was their Graduation Ceremony.

Big bunch of 07s meet to collect their certs of appreciation and a little souvenir

And my wacky little bunch of Admirals!

Skyping Mel

We're getting quite tired of marking essays that trivialize the the Internet by pointing out how convenient it is for us to keep in touch with our friends overseas, like as if it was a glorified telephone system and nothing more. Yet when we were Skyping Mel (she's now in ol' Blighty) from the staffroom today, that's more or less what we were doing.

The beauty of Skype and webcams is that despite the distance between us, we can still chat face-to-face. Our conversation was mostly about personal trivialities punctuated by much hand waving as various other staff passed by and realized who we were talking to. But we we were many and there was only one webcam so we were all a bit camera shy. While we could see Mel very well, she mostly saw parts of our faces, elbows, torsos and whatever else got thrust towards the lens for her closer inspection.

Best of all, our conversation was free-of-charge so the only time limitations we had to live by were our own busy schedules and not based on how much money-for-time we could afford to spend on her.

So now because of the Internet, Mel and HP could still potentially join us for breakfast even though they're thousands of miles away. They would both have to give up some sleep as there's a time-zone discrepancy (morning for us is bedtime for them) but with today's technology, it's so easy for Amy to carry down her laptop containing both their virtual heads and have them share, oh I dunno, omelettes and prawn noodles with us. It'll be like they'd never left!

I sense rolling eyeballs...

Professional wrestling

It was a clash of professionals at our new place. Our laminate flooring guy boldly held his ground against the combined onslaught of my designer and my wife over a functionality vs design issue.

The issue: like all other forms of matter, Vohringer laminate flooring expands with heat, especially in sunny S'pore. As such, there has to be some allowance for heat expansion or there will be a risk of the snap-together units of flooring buckling and cracking in the months to come.

The problem: because of heat expansion, to lay laminate wall-to-wall is just inviting trouble, so there has to be gaps between the laminates to cater for that. These gaps are covered by a flattish plastic spacer roughly, but not exactly matching the laminate itself. Aesthetically, these strips of plastic ruin an otherwise clean surface and mar the overall finish of our designer's final product.

Big, tepid quarrel ensued between artisan and engineer, neither wanting to compromise on their professional integrity. June tended to support design over physics, while I went the oppopsite direction in support of the flooring guy, though my influence was more subtle. I'm more prepared to let the look of my floor be ruined than the floor iteslf. Guess I'm practical that way.

We eventually reached a compromise that involved both parties conceding a little. Where floor spacers were a direct affront to design, design won. We let the spacers be where they were not so obvious. Everybody happy.

My point is, I'm very proud of the two professionals' service. They both really look out for their customers' best interest and are willing to take a stand for what they know to be right. It would have been so easy for one or the other to just give in and assign the responsibility of risk to the customer ('the customer is always right' is nonsense), but they stuck to their guns and slugged it out to the end for our sakes.

So far in this move, I feel we've been well taken care of by the people and the services we've engaged. That's something to be thankful for.

Movers and shakers

I wonder if I'm crazy. With financial storms whipping around overhead as the shock waves from the financial meltdown in the US chase each other across the world, I'm converting every last cent I own into consumer goods.

Yes, we've sunk a huge proportion of our liquid resources on HDB real estate, but the renovations, and home furnishings? That'll wipe out our last-straw safety net, at least until we can slowly build it all back, as long as we can stay employed. Doubt either of us will be retiring any time soon, we have a lot to pay back after this move. Doubt we'll be able to afford to make another move, so I guess all this expense is supposed to create the most comfortable nest that we will never want to even think of moving house ever again.

While I'm busy rationalizing here, we still haven't finished shopping for our furnishings yet. Today we engaged 138 Professional Movers (the name of the company, not the number of professional movers) to help us "have a stress-free" move.

A survey of all that we possess was professionally estimated to fit a single truck load, costing a grand total of 300 simoleons nett. That price includes a fully refundable 100 for the return of 50 packing crates they supplied for us to compress our lives into, at least those bits we want to bring along with us on our Exodus. 138 even promised to deliver our clothes clean and wrinkle-free so that we can have a decent wardrobe of working togs for wearing the next day. 138 came highly recommended by June's colleague, so we're counting on their "stress-free" service to see us through a long and difficult day.

Going shopping for lighting tomorrow...

Btw, I'm keeping an almost daily photo-essay of the renovation process on a thread in the RenoTalk Forum. Feel free to drop in and get the inside story!

500W of pure power

As work commences on the living room false ceiling tomorrow, William advised me to get the cables for the rear speakers of the home theatre system ASAP so he can get them installed and concealed overhead. Since Mega needs about a week's notice before delivery, I thought I'd save some time by driving down to the main outlet at Katong Mall and collect the set myself.

How difficult could that be right? Five small speakers, a sub-woofer and a little DVD console pumping out 500W of raw audio power: should be no problem getting it into M2, especially if it's all nicely packaged together.

What emerged from the stockroom was a crate that measured nearly the length of my entire armspan, and no-joke heavy. I wrestled it up two flights of escalators, and manhandled it partway down the street, finally stuffing through M2's passenger side door with the seat folded flat.

When I got to the new place, I dragged it into the elevator to my floor and dropped it off in the living room that still looks like a war zone. I dug into the box to find the required cables which I left in the storeroom for the electrician to install tomorrow. Then because it wasn't secure to leave the whole sound system alone in a vacant flat, I lugged the whole thing back down again and back into M2. Drove a short distance to M-i-L's place where I heaved it up into another elevator, and down another corridor and finally into temporary storage next to M-i-L's TV.

There was a little label on the packaging that I hadn't noticed earlier. It read "22kg: 2 person carry". Pengsan, I tell you!

Renovation works in progress (II)

New House WIP
Today went pretty much devoted to the new place. Our breakfast plan was to hit IKEA first thing it opened this morning, but to our horror the cafe opened half an hour earlier than the main store, 0930 instead of 1000. So when we arrived on the dot at 10, the cafe was already crowded out with snaking lines for food extending well beyond the cashier stations. Just a half hour late and the mee rebus ran out. We had to settle for the french toast set, which also wasn't bad.

Our main purpose was to get sheving for our bomb-shelter/store room.  Between Tong's Hyundai and M2, we managed to ferry all the wooden planking back to the new place. Tong has also offered his assistance to assemble the shelves for us once the renovations are complete. Thanks, Tong!

Well, the pix above is what the new place looks like as of today. All the floor tiles in the kitchen and the two bathrooms are hacked and ready for a fresh layer of tiles. The existing wall tiles are being plastered over, hence the nasty blackish colour of the kitchen and bathroom walls.

I've always wondered what goes on in a coocoon as the worm undergoes metamorphosis. Now I know.

Feathering the nest

Continuing to exchange real simoleons for home furnishings. We bought a TV with a home theatre sound system thrown in for cheap and the refrigerator.

I usually let June nose around for good deals, and she found Mega Discount Store, United Square, where we met Clarence who took the trouble to explain the minute differences between modern TV features and demo'ed different TV models for us to compare. Because Mega isn't part of a larger chain, it offered us a customized discount package that was somewhat more competitive than those advertised by the big players in the Saturday papers.

Still in search of a sofa and a dining room set. We have yet to see any designs we like at a price we can stomach.