House warming :)

This ol' house has never seen so many people before. So good to see the brekkie people past, present and some with spouses or partners making our usual lively commotion within these walls. It's the last opportunity for us to meet this informally before they make good on their vacation plans this year and I'm thrilled we made the best of it. Even Mel Skyped in via Amy's Mac and got a real tour of the place including a virtual staring contest with Maui whom we happened to catch 'live' on webcam.

June was very efficient in getting the salad and punch operational as soon as she got back from work. M-i-L pulled out all the stops helping us with the fried noodles, a vicious red curry chicken and a bonus banana bread. Everybody brought a little something: KL made a green chix curry, Jo-jo with a sushi platter, Amy and B-lo combining with a pair of Sarpino's, Wayne brought two bottles of red, and lots of dessert items including Sha's fabulous trifle, NBS's cheesecake and Fen brought the birthday cake for the December baby among us.

Even with the help of Derek, HP, Sheikh, Vince, Linc, and KL's family, there was too much food! We really missed To*ny's appetite last night! Eventually many of our guests had to take home almost as much food as they brought, and we still have a stockpile that would last us a nuclear winter, if only it wasn't perishable within a day. As hosts, we'd better start estimating our rations better.

Hangin' with the guys really helped lighten my mood considerably. See? No pix! Too busy flitting from guest to guest to bother with the cam for once. Sometimes, the best images are the ones we store in our brains.

Downhill slide

Entries have been rather erratic lately. It's a case of too much happenning that isn't exactly worth writing home about. Even when there are days I can spot blogging potential, I'm like, whatever, I'm on vacation.

So yes, there's been a downhill slide into the doldrums, though I can't put a finger on a direct cause.

One big factor, I suppose, is the big move up north. Yes, I have a lovely new house and all, but the transition to get here has been month after month of additional stress dealing with financial, legal and housing authorities, agents and the people they represent, our renovation works and making sure every little detail is tweaked to absolute perfection. The sad thing is, all these details actually went smoothly, everyone was nice, and everyone did their best to either accommodate or help us, and I still got my nerves frayed over it.

Through it all, some routines that I use to keep myself sane like blogging and breakfast have been disrupted, there have been some unexpected changes in staff deployment that have been rather distressing, and now that I've moved into the new place I have to get used to some new routines that are going to make it difficult for me to recover my old ones.

Without going into detail, it's like this: Living this far north, it feels like I've been cut off from everyone, everywhere and everything. There's no reason to drive anywhere because everything's here: food, entertainment and public transport if I want to go anywhere further (though why would I want to?). It's a self-contained enclave, up here.

The other thing is, I'm kinda' used to living in a rat hole, basically, and the supplier of our flooring summed it up best by remarking that the type of laminate we chose "is meant for high class people, you know?" When others are talking about the collapse of the economy being due to people living beyond their means, I can't help but think they're talking about me.

Currently undergoing "Fallout 3" therapy, taking it all out on those poor Super Mutants and their ilk, though I'm pretty sure this form of treatment is not a very healthy way to deal with my baggage.

Hopefully, I'll get used to life up here soon. Then hopefully I'll recover my good humour. Till then, somebody sing me a Bob Marley tune, please?

Heck in a handbasket

The world is going to heck in a handbasket real fast. What with the global economic depression and all the nonsense in Thailand, India and in the Gulf of frakkin' Aden it looks like we've finally lost our minds and we're bent on self-destruction.

Nothing makes sense. An unhappy political minority is destroying their own country because they got outvoted at the last election which they themselves forced -- and lost anyway. A bunch of teenage hoodlums plan and execute a most effective and heroic military operation against several non-military targets resulting in a most impressive kill ratio but only because their targets can't shoot back. I'm sure there's a medal there for you boys, though it'll probably be your parents who'll have to receive it on your behalf, posthumously. And over in the Gulf of frakkin' Aden grand-scale armed robbery has become a profitable multi-million dollar business. I suppose that's one outside-the-box means of protecting oneself from the financial crisis.

What do these people want? They want to be shot at. They're militants, they're prepared for war. They have the logistics, they have the ordnance, they have the strategy. Their only problem is that no one is shooting at them to justify their raison d'etre. So if the mountain won't come to them, they must go to the mountain. And unfortunately for us, to get to the mountain they have to get through us first.

It's stupid.

Belt-tightening

While I've been occupied with adjusting my life to accommodate new schedules and new living arrangements, my virtual life has been languishing. No updates here, my online pets are neglected and are probably starving to death right now, but I still can't muster enough will to care.

Too much is happening in real life, and perhaps I'm not as capable of adapting to all these changes as I might once have been. The current financial crisis necessitating all these belt-tightening fiscal measures makes me wonder if I've spent too much too quickly in recent months. I was counting on a year-end bonus to boost my bank balance to a more reassuring level, but that's not going to happen in this current atmosphere of pay cuts and other more drastic cost saving methods.

Still, as long as I have a job, money can be earned back. And I don't owe anyone any money that urgently needs repaying. That is to say, my installment plans are still manageable, so perhaps what I'm worried about is the lack of excess, resources set aside for a rainy day, mad money to throw away on frivolous expenses.

Still, it's a new lifestyle to adapt to, having to think twice about needs and wants. Learning to forego when we're so used to buying on impulse; making do with what works rather than trashing it for the sake of an upgrade; squeezing every last bit of value from every cent we spend; and making sure we do our jobs well so that what we demand of others we deliver to them as well in return; that's how we're going to ride out this long winter of discontent. Financially speaking, anyway.

Die, monkey, die!

I've been holding this back, waiting for just the right time. And that time is now! To celebrate one big monkey off my back, let's all sing the "Hut Sut" Song!

Getting upset with the casino

Meant to put up this link since NBS and I were discussing something like it this morning. It's called, "A Visual Guide to the Financial Crisis".

And no, in our discussion we weren't particularly sympathetic with the so-called "investors" who lost money on their "investments" in High Notes and their ilk. To us, those guys being so upset and demanding compensation from the bank is like losing money at the craps table and getting upset with the casino.

Sigh. Our people are so sheltered and mollycoddled that they have lost sight of reality. Everyone expects the profits to keep rolling in, but when it's time to shoulder the risk, it's always someone else's fault.

Survivor

Look at that! Yummy, tempting pack of Oreo cookies just waiting to be dunked into an icy cold glass of milk; luscious cream begging to be oh, so gently teased out with a tongue tip tracing the gap between the twin halves of the delicate, crumbly, brown cookie sandwich. What a treat!

Then, consider that this package has been sitting on my dining table overnight already, fully exposed and accessible to the hungry cats marauding through my house. Consider the pristine condition of the package, with nary a puncture mark anywhere on it's surface. No edible material has survived five minutes of unsupervised time with the cats around, yet this brave little blue pack has already survived 24 hours and still counting.

Could it be that Oreos aren't actually food?

Where to find the cats

While the unpacking proceeds, the house may be liveable but still in an unsightly condition. The process is slow and painful, and it may yet be several more days before we throw up our hands in exasperation and decide to trash everything that we haven't yet found a place to store, stow, or conceal.

Then there are the cats who are beginning to adjust to their new environment. One coping mechanism is having a hidey-hole to bolt to when another stranger walks in to make some funny loud noises with smelly machines. Happened to catch the three cats together this one time. Must be playing 'sardines'.

Volunteer job: library courier

A morning with lots of books. First, the second phase of Project Deliver-Me, in which volunteers such as myself take library books over to the residences of disabled people and collect the books they are done with.

I got a different recipient from the two I selected books for from last week. Just so happens, she lives around the corner from campus. Probably a polio victim, roughly my age (hence you are to infer "not too old"), warm and interesting... someone I might not have minded spending an afternoon with, if she didn't seem like she was busy.

Instead, I just did my job -- deliver, collect, sign here, sign there, "thanks ma'am, my pleasure, ma'am!" The expediency at which I picked up my bag of to-be-returned books and walked down the 6 stories -- as she had directed me to -- back to M2 sorta' felt like I was running away from her, though that was not my intention. I also get the feeling she had played some kind of joke on me, making me walk down stairs while she had to get by on crutches... ironic and subtle, very subtle.

While at the library, I borrowed a couple of other books -- play scripts just to see what possibilities there might be for next year's Drama Night. Also bought another couple of books, one on ethics and the other on systems. Oddly, I don't seem to care too much about fiction any more. Maybe I prefer watching it to reading it these days. Oh, well.

Training continues

When was the last time I went bowling? Seems like forever since the Boyz fell flat on our collective faces and imploded. And no, I'm not interested in a revival tour. Let dead dogs lie, as they say.

Doesn't mean I can't keep up the training, though. Happy to say that rusty as I am, I hit the lanes today and still did pretty ok. Six game average 165 including a high 213, low of 130. Funny that the only time I break 199 is after a long break, then I settle back to my usual game.

Sigh, no consistency. Still gonna have to keep my day job for a while yet. Heh.

She'll chew your ear off

I have sound from both speakers when I use the DVD and FM receiver, but I only get a mono channel when I use the cable TV set-top box. I've checked all the connections and everything's fine. I re-checked the settings on all equipment, and everything is as per manual recommendations. Still, I only get sound from the Left side when I watch cable. Odd.

Asked our electrician, Ben, to have a look at the system and see what he could make of it. It wasn't immediate, but he spotted the one thing I overlooked: the stereo cables themselves... almost chewed through by itchy feline teeth!

Should have known. Same thing happened when the washing machine sprang a leak due to a drainage hosepipe that someone had turned into emmenthal cheese, and I know who it is.

There is a gremlin loose in the house, and its name is MOMO!

Peevish

Not been feeling particularly sociable lately. My grouchy, irritable state has rendered me all the more monosyllabic in my responses to others. Somehow, I just feel that everybody is talking to me only to tell me to do this and do that; nothing but instructions and imperatives, reminders, memos and decrees. I've had quite about enough of it.

Fortunately, this week I get to dictate my own time. For the next few days, unless anyone has anything interesting to talk to me about, get lost!

Perhaps a few days of silence will improve my mood :(

Books to go

What a week! Between official assessment duties in the morning and cleaning/unpacking/installing duties at night, I feel like I've been running without stop. And looking at the mountain range of -- things -- that's currently occupying my guest room, it doesn't look any better for next week either.

But I did get a little break today, as a volunteer selecting and then delivering books to the disabled. Today was the selecting of books phase, so armed with my recipients' list of book preferences, I gaily happily parked myself at the arts and crafts section picking out books on crocheting and knitting, and attempting very hard to imagine which titles would fascinate them the most.

Based on their topical choices, I guessed that they would have been little old ladies who probably wanted to express themselves creatively. But I didn't want the books to be so simple as to be insulting, yet I didn't want anything too difficult either so that they would get bored and perhaps try to find other ways of expressing themselves creatively with knitting needles.

There were also other considerations like, I wanted to get something uplifting, but I didn't want them to think I thought they needed uplifting. I wanted to get something humorous, but I didn't want them to think I was making light of their situation...

It's kinda' like the decisions the media corporations have to make selecting the media content that would appeal to the widest audience. Like them, I chose the blandest sounding titles which were the least likely to offend anyone, although I did take a chance on on of the old girls by selecting for her Jeph Loeb's "Blue", one of the best Spider-Man stories I've read focusing on a tragic tale of a romance cut short in between trading punches with an assortment of costumed bad guys. Well, she did include 'Romance' and 'Short stories' on her list...!

We'll get the books delivered to them next week, so I will only know if I'm going to get the books chucked back at my head, of if I'm going to be offered a cuppa and a nice chat then.

In the meantime, through all the gripes, grumbles, whines and tantrums, I finally have a house to live in. We brought the cats back from Dom's, so the whole family is back together again! The unpacking will still go on for some time, but our place is an operational domicile at last!

Down to the minor details

Things seem to have come to a standstill with the renos. All the heavy, noisy work is complete but now comes the perod where we have to deal with all kinds of minor issues -- the fine tuning. Small faults like overlooked unpainted bits, the tracing down of the source of the electrical trip, small fixtures that still need to be installed, that sort of thing. And until we're absolutely sure another bunch of tradesmen won't come knocking on our door, we can't really say we've moved in yet.

And the unpacking! Everything we hastily threw into our packing crates now have to be organized back into their permanent places in the new house, and that's still going to take a while yet. Meantime, there're boxes everywhere with their contents spilling out while we figure what's what and what goes where.

Hope to get my home back by the weekend...

Still homeless and roughin' it

Perhaps too optimistic about being able to move in to the new place by last Friday. There're still various workmen buzzing around getting this and that done, and the nightmare of being temporarily homeless seems to be extending interminably. It's even worse for the cats since we're projecting that they can't come home till about Thursday, when we've finally been able to cat-proof ourselves sufficiently to accept them back with us.

Meantime, we're still squatting at M-i-L's, and Q-tip is starting to become accustomed to the new routine of life here. That's not a bad proposition, really, because there's a chance we can put here here in future while we go out to work and collect her when we come home in the evening. She'll be cared for and given regular walkies, like a doggie day-care. The cats can look after themselves.

Took the kids to watch "Avenue Q" today. I'm planning to watch it again with June closer to the end of the run, so I'll review it another time.


Also, congrats to Sha who tied the knot this evening. A relaxed and easy affair at the Fort Canning Centre. A loosely Bollywood theme complete with a troupe of energetic Bhangra dancers who wowed us with some tandem spinning manouvres that were quite risky for the tight space they performed in.

All-you-can-eat briyani and naan to go with a spicy variety of curried meats. I focused on the mutton -- lovely flavour and have eaten myself silly. Burp!

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.