I hate having to ingterneck in the library and pop into the living room to watch the TV. This is a situation caused by not having wireless access or ingterneck access in the living room. Speaking of which, I am reminded of a hilarious anecdote which I am now going to relate to you, whether you like it or not: I was in Shanghai, asking the cable guy if our internet access was unlimited (wu xian) which it was supposed to be. His negative reply almost threw me into paroxysms of frustration when my flatmate realised he had misunderstood me and meant that it was not wireless, which in chinese, sounds the same as unlimited (wu xian). I just can't win.
I have developed a morbid fascination with daytime TV since I got back, TV itself being such a novelty since I haven't actually been able to afford one for years. There are reruns of whole series of local teen dramas that I have completely no recollection of, like Lightning Years and Spin. I watched the tail end of Chicken Rice Wars the other day. I can't figure out how I feel about missing out on so much pop culture. Despite my initial scornful reaction to these shows, I can't help but be wary of such snobbishness. Don't I watch Amazing Race, after all? Who am I to judge? But even then, some of what I hear honestly drives me up the wall.
"Are you crazy?"
Yes, I'm crazy. (significant pause) I'm crazy about you!"
[cue dramatic music]
Warning: Rant follows
Has anyone seen/heard the new mediacorp trailer for their new programme, The Dance Floor? I take no issue with the show itself; the concept seems interesting, and I would definitely watch it if I am here when it airs. But I am slowly being driven to the brink of insanity by their excessive overuse of the phrase, 'young and young at heart.' Do english speaking people in this country not realise that peppering their speech/writing with cliches is not conventionally regarded as good english? I believe this will come as a revelation to most SGeans-- through no fault of their own-- as I remember being taught to use english 'idioms' in school essays. But cliches ARE NOT THE SAME THING AS CHENG YUS, ok?
'It was a dark and stormy night' is not equivalent to 'yi ge feng he ri li de zao cheng', alright? I wholeheartedly agree with Janadas Devan's article in the Straits Times on monday about the overuse of cliches by the local media. (which I unfortunately cannot post a link to-- see below for tirade against having to pay in order to access it online.) Of course, I am in no way saying that chinese is an inferior language in this respect. In fact, chinese is an incredibly expressive language. With just four characters, one can convey many subtle shades of meaning (which, regretfully, are often lost on me.) This richness makes for a language more poetry than prose.
English, however, is a whole different language. Yet here it is taught in the same way chinese is. We memorise whole books of cheng yus, or idioms, and try to use as many as we can in compositions. For chinese, yeah, I get it; we have to learn many cheng yus since it's impossible to understand chinese texts otherwise. And memorising them is the first step to using them appropriately and elegantly. In english, the overuse of cliches is usually a symptom of laziness (according to Devan). Why think up of a more original phrase when there's already one that does the job? Because english is not chinese, can? Cliches don't actually make your writing sound poetic. The word is hackneyed, or uninspired or maybe, boring.
So, a suggestion. In line with this whole Speak Good English campaign thingie, can we all try to MAKE MEDIACORP STOP BROADCASTING THIS DRIVEL. The media has a responsibility to the people of singapore not to propagate the myth that 'young and young at heart' is an acceptable phrase for marketing its programmes to the general population.
AND
Does it irritate the hell out of anyone else that the programme is described as a 'reality dance competition'? When was the last time you saw a dance competition open to the public that was entirely scripted and enacted by professional actors? It might be a reality TV show, or a dance competition, but I think the fact that it is a dance competition with real people, set in real life, does not actually need to be emphasised. Dance competitions, unless in the context of Dirty Dancing or Shall We Dance (which do not take place in reality. sorry. it might be in your head, but they aren't) are by nature reality TV. They are one of the very first manifestations of the popular phenomenon.
Ok?
I might be forced to write a letter to Mediacorp if this situation continues.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Glor: How do you know that Bolbol isn't somewhere on the bottom of the sea?
Tor: I just know. I would know if it were lost forever at sea. I would feel it in my heart the instant the ship sinks.
Should Bolbol be truly lost to us one day, the following will be its perpetual companions (at least until they biodegrade):
1. Glor's Marks and Sparks push-up bra
2. T-Shirt I bought Glor from Egypt
3. Cat's (my ex-flatmate) uni notes and textbooks
Tor: I just know. I would know if it were lost forever at sea. I would feel it in my heart the instant the ship sinks.
Should Bolbol be truly lost to us one day, the following will be its perpetual companions (at least until they biodegrade):
1. Glor's Marks and Sparks push-up bra
2. T-Shirt I bought Glor from Egypt
3. Cat's (my ex-flatmate) uni notes and textbooks
THINGS WE CAN'T TELL MUMMY
I realised the other day how often I say, 'don't tell mummy I did...' and how trivial those things were. Many many small small things that we do annoy her, so her default mood is slightly-pissed-off all the time. These are some things (with rationales) Glor and I can't let her know or she will nag me all through CSI:
1. that I wore shoes in the house while I was stretching before my run (dirty)
2. that I walked in with my shoes on afterwards (dirty)
3. that I stretched on the clean floor and dripped sweat on it (dirty)
4. that Glor didn't close the door when she came home until after she took her socks off (someone might barge in in the 1 minute it takes and do unspeakable things, like walk in with their shoes on)
5. that I switched on 2 fans at the same time and stood in front of them (waste electricity + blow sweat everywhere, so also dirty)
6. that Glor chewed ice cubes (bad for you)
7. that Glor slept in the middle of the day instead of studying (self-explanatory)
8. that I ate leftover food (bad for you)
9. that I used the wrong laundry bag for underwear (?)
10. that Glor didn't soak her underwear before giving it to wash (dirty)
11. that I ate 3 curry puffs in 1 day (fat)
12. that I ate 2 flosss buns at 3 am (fat)
13. that I left my dirty plate with traces of flosss upstairs for 2 days (dirty)
14. that Glor drank milk straight from the carton (dirty)
15. that we left the TV on really loud so that we could hear it from the library (waste electricity)
16. that I used the wrong ga la to hang laundry (dirty)
17. that I used the wrong washing detergent to wash the clothes (must mix white one with blue one first or else the clothes will apparently stink, hence: dirty)
18. that Glor sniffed her snort all day instead of blowing her nose (dirty)
19. that I ate 2 brownies AND ice-cream for dessert (fat)
20. that Gloria sneezed in the house all over the place, spewing germs everywhere (dirty)
21. that I didn't clean the floor without being told because I couldn't tell that it was very slightly less spotless than before-- the magiclean cloth yielded a light gray dusting after she swabbed the whole downstairs down with the same cloth (dirty)
So it's quite difficult leading a normal life at home, as you can see. Still, it is a home filled with light and laughter when we don't actually do anything that pisses mummy off. Today for example, was quite pleasant as I actually washed the clothes without being told. I made it on the ga las and used the right delicates bag, but fell down on the mixing of washing detergent.
The monsoon really made itself felt today and it's such a nice day to sit indoors with the door open, writing or enjoying a bolster. Alas, Bolbol is still en route somewhere in the Indian Ocean (I bloody hope). For fun, I came up with a list of fun facts I bet you didn't know about me and Glor.
FUNFACTS I BET YOU DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT ME AND GLOR
1. We have names for all our bolsters
The spare bolster is called 'yukky bol' as it is hard and not squishy. It does not have the necessary ergonomics to be a good bolster. Our limbs bend at an obtuse angle instead of an acute angle when we try to hug it. It also doesn't smell like anything and doesn't have a bolster string that is 'mian mian'. 'Mian mian' is the soft, springy quality that bolster strings have when you squeeze the small knot tied in the string. It should be a bit furry and must be firm, yielding to the touch and not too hard. We also have a small, colourful bolster that is called 'small, colourful bolster.' It doubles up as a pillow or soft thing to put over our eyes to block out the light. And obviously, there's Bolbol and Sterster. Mine is Bolbol.
2. Glor likes using a straw to drink yakult whereas I prefer to tear off the aluminium completely
Glor likes the green colour apple flavoured one and I like original.
3. Glor's favourite thing nibbly thing from Old Chang Kee is deep-fried squid heads. Mine is curry puffs
4. Gloria likes the dark-haired guy from The OC (Seth) but I like the blonde one (Ryan).
5. Gloria likes the original CSI whereas I like the Miami version.
6. I think 'harhm' is integral to laksa. Gloria doesn't like 'harhm' in laksa or in anything else.
Which reminds me of something of only tangential relevance. PM Lee in his National Day Rally speech alluded to the mr brown 'ter kwa' controversy by using a food metaphor which involved 'harhm' in mee siam. Please tell me that I am not alone in thinking that 'harhm' is not used in mee siam. Where got 'harhm' in mee siam? I can only conclude from this that the PM does not eat/like mee siam. I know he was talking in hypothetical terms, but this is singapore, goddamn it! Does the PM not eat mee siam?
And because I am trying to be like Nick Hornby, here is a list of things I ate for supper one night with Bunn, Janet and Terrence at Chomp. Chomp.
1. S$10 worth of la las (clam).
2. sambal stingray with nice chincalok (pinkish-grayish shrimp in salty/sour sauce)
3. white chai dao kueh
4. prata with an egg fried sunny side up on it: plaster prata
5. chicken and mutton satay
6. or luah (oyster omlette with starch)
7. almond flavoured dao huay (bean curd)
8. mango flavoured dao huay
9. egg flavoured dao huay with peanut
10. hot cheng tng
11. mug of teh (tea with condensed milk)
On the other hand, the most interesting supper Gloria has had so far is prata and teh, at the 24 hour prata place outside our house. Glor decides that she needs to get a life after the A's.
I realised the other day how often I say, 'don't tell mummy I did...' and how trivial those things were. Many many small small things that we do annoy her, so her default mood is slightly-pissed-off all the time. These are some things (with rationales) Glor and I can't let her know or she will nag me all through CSI:
1. that I wore shoes in the house while I was stretching before my run (dirty)
2. that I walked in with my shoes on afterwards (dirty)
3. that I stretched on the clean floor and dripped sweat on it (dirty)
4. that Glor didn't close the door when she came home until after she took her socks off (someone might barge in in the 1 minute it takes and do unspeakable things, like walk in with their shoes on)
5. that I switched on 2 fans at the same time and stood in front of them (waste electricity + blow sweat everywhere, so also dirty)
6. that Glor chewed ice cubes (bad for you)
7. that Glor slept in the middle of the day instead of studying (self-explanatory)
8. that I ate leftover food (bad for you)
9. that I used the wrong laundry bag for underwear (?)
10. that Glor didn't soak her underwear before giving it to wash (dirty)
11. that I ate 3 curry puffs in 1 day (fat)
12. that I ate 2 flosss buns at 3 am (fat)
13. that I left my dirty plate with traces of flosss upstairs for 2 days (dirty)
14. that Glor drank milk straight from the carton (dirty)
15. that we left the TV on really loud so that we could hear it from the library (waste electricity)
16. that I used the wrong ga la to hang laundry (dirty)
17. that I used the wrong washing detergent to wash the clothes (must mix white one with blue one first or else the clothes will apparently stink, hence: dirty)
18. that Glor sniffed her snort all day instead of blowing her nose (dirty)
19. that I ate 2 brownies AND ice-cream for dessert (fat)
20. that Gloria sneezed in the house all over the place, spewing germs everywhere (dirty)
21. that I didn't clean the floor without being told because I couldn't tell that it was very slightly less spotless than before-- the magiclean cloth yielded a light gray dusting after she swabbed the whole downstairs down with the same cloth (dirty)
So it's quite difficult leading a normal life at home, as you can see. Still, it is a home filled with light and laughter when we don't actually do anything that pisses mummy off. Today for example, was quite pleasant as I actually washed the clothes without being told. I made it on the ga las and used the right delicates bag, but fell down on the mixing of washing detergent.
The monsoon really made itself felt today and it's such a nice day to sit indoors with the door open, writing or enjoying a bolster. Alas, Bolbol is still en route somewhere in the Indian Ocean (I bloody hope). For fun, I came up with a list of fun facts I bet you didn't know about me and Glor.
FUNFACTS I BET YOU DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT ME AND GLOR
1. We have names for all our bolsters
The spare bolster is called 'yukky bol' as it is hard and not squishy. It does not have the necessary ergonomics to be a good bolster. Our limbs bend at an obtuse angle instead of an acute angle when we try to hug it. It also doesn't smell like anything and doesn't have a bolster string that is 'mian mian'. 'Mian mian' is the soft, springy quality that bolster strings have when you squeeze the small knot tied in the string. It should be a bit furry and must be firm, yielding to the touch and not too hard. We also have a small, colourful bolster that is called 'small, colourful bolster.' It doubles up as a pillow or soft thing to put over our eyes to block out the light. And obviously, there's Bolbol and Sterster. Mine is Bolbol.
2. Glor likes using a straw to drink yakult whereas I prefer to tear off the aluminium completely
Glor likes the green colour apple flavoured one and I like original.
3. Glor's favourite thing nibbly thing from Old Chang Kee is deep-fried squid heads. Mine is curry puffs
4. Gloria likes the dark-haired guy from The OC (Seth) but I like the blonde one (Ryan).
5. Gloria likes the original CSI whereas I like the Miami version.
6. I think 'harhm' is integral to laksa. Gloria doesn't like 'harhm' in laksa or in anything else.
Which reminds me of something of only tangential relevance. PM Lee in his National Day Rally speech alluded to the mr brown 'ter kwa' controversy by using a food metaphor which involved 'harhm' in mee siam. Please tell me that I am not alone in thinking that 'harhm' is not used in mee siam. Where got 'harhm' in mee siam? I can only conclude from this that the PM does not eat/like mee siam. I know he was talking in hypothetical terms, but this is singapore, goddamn it! Does the PM not eat mee siam?
And because I am trying to be like Nick Hornby, here is a list of things I ate for supper one night with Bunn, Janet and Terrence at Chomp. Chomp.
1. S$10 worth of la las (clam).
2. sambal stingray with nice chincalok (pinkish-grayish shrimp in salty/sour sauce)
3. white chai dao kueh
4. prata with an egg fried sunny side up on it: plaster prata
5. chicken and mutton satay
6. or luah (oyster omlette with starch)
7. almond flavoured dao huay (bean curd)
8. mango flavoured dao huay
9. egg flavoured dao huay with peanut
10. hot cheng tng
11. mug of teh (tea with condensed milk)
On the other hand, the most interesting supper Gloria has had so far is prata and teh, at the 24 hour prata place outside our house. Glor decides that she needs to get a life after the A's.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Who Is Your Favourite Singapore Idol?
I like watching Singapore Idol.
I watch it for the judges' comments, even if it means having to sit through another of Joakim's set-pieces. I usually go and get a drink from the kitchen at that time anyway.
I wait eagerly for a glimpse at Dick Lee's supposedly 50 year old face to try to guess what work he's had done to it-- a great hobby of mine. Ever since I discovered this page, I consider myself quite expert at discerning signs of botox usage. Jacintha's cryptic remarks are always a treat: 'We are still in the land of the living. You have to take us somewhere else.' is my favourite so far, although 'you are still in vocal purgatory' is also quite inspired. I do get what she is saying, but I'm not so sure about the idols.
My favourite Ken Lim comment so far is, 'Shh... Hear that silence? To me that silence sounds better than the sound coming out of your mouth.' No prizes for guessing who that was directed to.
Watching Singapore Idol is like watching Big Brother. You know it will turn your brain to mush, you know it is patently NOT a talent competition, you boo and hiss at your least favourite contestant, yet you still watch it to see just how bad he can get. I watch it for the same reason I watch Amazing Race and Temptation Island. I give in to my secret passions-- voyeurism, schadenfreude, appetite for gossip. Indulge your basest emotions with Singapore Idol: fun-filled family entertainment on Channel 5!
[Actually, come to think of it, they're not really secret right? Everybody knows I love scandal and gossip] Especially when my whole family pitches in. My father's favourite is Jonathon, who he says will get the cheena-piang vote as well as the holy-holy vote. (In the 'what would you take on a desert island' clip, he answered, 'a bible'.) My mother just thinks they all have no standard but Hady got chance since the malays will all vote him. I think I will only chu ma if Joakim looks in danger of actually winning the goddamn thing. I am actually willing to spend good money ensuring he doesn't represent the best of Singapore's talent solely due to the (rather surprising) spending power of hormonally-driven teenage girls. As I have mentioned, when I was a teenager I only got S$10 a week lah! Money was too precious to spend on frivolous things like voting Idols in. Food was a lot more important, hence my present size.
Dysfunctional as it sounds, 8pm to 9pm wednesday nights is quality family time for me and my parents. During the show, I relax, sit back and prepare to be entertained by my parents. And of course they do what they always do: bitch. Sometimes at me, about me. But I much prefer it when they just bitch about the Idols.
I like watching Singapore Idol.
I watch it for the judges' comments, even if it means having to sit through another of Joakim's set-pieces. I usually go and get a drink from the kitchen at that time anyway.
I wait eagerly for a glimpse at Dick Lee's supposedly 50 year old face to try to guess what work he's had done to it-- a great hobby of mine. Ever since I discovered this page, I consider myself quite expert at discerning signs of botox usage. Jacintha's cryptic remarks are always a treat: 'We are still in the land of the living. You have to take us somewhere else.' is my favourite so far, although 'you are still in vocal purgatory' is also quite inspired. I do get what she is saying, but I'm not so sure about the idols.
My favourite Ken Lim comment so far is, 'Shh... Hear that silence? To me that silence sounds better than the sound coming out of your mouth.' No prizes for guessing who that was directed to.
Watching Singapore Idol is like watching Big Brother. You know it will turn your brain to mush, you know it is patently NOT a talent competition, you boo and hiss at your least favourite contestant, yet you still watch it to see just how bad he can get. I watch it for the same reason I watch Amazing Race and Temptation Island. I give in to my secret passions-- voyeurism, schadenfreude, appetite for gossip. Indulge your basest emotions with Singapore Idol: fun-filled family entertainment on Channel 5!
[Actually, come to think of it, they're not really secret right? Everybody knows I love scandal and gossip] Especially when my whole family pitches in. My father's favourite is Jonathon, who he says will get the cheena-piang vote as well as the holy-holy vote. (In the 'what would you take on a desert island' clip, he answered, 'a bible'.) My mother just thinks they all have no standard but Hady got chance since the malays will all vote him. I think I will only chu ma if Joakim looks in danger of actually winning the goddamn thing. I am actually willing to spend good money ensuring he doesn't represent the best of Singapore's talent solely due to the (rather surprising) spending power of hormonally-driven teenage girls. As I have mentioned, when I was a teenager I only got S$10 a week lah! Money was too precious to spend on frivolous things like voting Idols in. Food was a lot more important, hence my present size.
Dysfunctional as it sounds, 8pm to 9pm wednesday nights is quality family time for me and my parents. During the show, I relax, sit back and prepare to be entertained by my parents. And of course they do what they always do: bitch. Sometimes at me, about me. But I much prefer it when they just bitch about the Idols.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Headings of Letters From the Public Printed in Yesterday's Today
'Why is there noisy construction on Sundays?'
'Loud audio ads on transport'
'Why not install seatbelts on buses?'
And my personal favourite:
'Consider banning smoking outright'
The reader suggested 'having laws against possession' and 'permitting smoking only at special centres where rehabilitators help to cure smokers' addictions.' I can only guess that the reader is a middle-aged, unmarried female who professes to be religious and suffers from intense guilt every time she feels sensual pleasure of any kind. (alamak! cannot eat curry puff) In a country where a problem as major as Subutex abuse was virtually unknown among the general public until a few weeks ago, this reader suggests pushing something as widespread as smoking underground into the black market. But let's set this matter aside; it's not what I'm really concerned with.
Looking at the letters as a whole, the first thing that strikes me is their utter triviality.
On one level, that is a good thing. Not having more serious matters to complain about signals a safe and comfortable environment. No disputes over here whether children should be allowed to wear hoodies lest they perpetrate crime while hiding their faces! No terrorists wandering around with water bottles and iPods! The only social problem (haha I mean: what would be seen as a social problem in SG) I can think of involving waterbottles is the phenomenon of nervous white men loitering near Raffles City clutching a waterbottle and newspaper. According to Ian, the newspaper is to 'tiak' over car windows... so that people won't see oral sex not leading up to ordinary heterosexual sex being performed.
But back to the letters. The suggestions put forth adopt such a sweeping belt and braces approach that one suspects the government has taught its people all too well. Construction on sundays-- ask them don't build house on sunday. Two accidents involving buses in a few months-- quick! Put seatbelt! Then make illegal to not wear seatbelt. Loud ads-- ask SMRT to disallow. Smoking? Ban lor.
Is it just me or will other right-thinking, normal people agree that they are completely unreasonable and disproportionate solutions to the problems at hand? A little too heavy-handed, maybe? hm?!
Ok, rant over, back to Desperate Housewives.
'Why is there noisy construction on Sundays?'
'Loud audio ads on transport'
'Why not install seatbelts on buses?'
And my personal favourite:
'Consider banning smoking outright'
The reader suggested 'having laws against possession' and 'permitting smoking only at special centres where rehabilitators help to cure smokers' addictions.' I can only guess that the reader is a middle-aged, unmarried female who professes to be religious and suffers from intense guilt every time she feels sensual pleasure of any kind. (alamak! cannot eat curry puff) In a country where a problem as major as Subutex abuse was virtually unknown among the general public until a few weeks ago, this reader suggests pushing something as widespread as smoking underground into the black market. But let's set this matter aside; it's not what I'm really concerned with.
Looking at the letters as a whole, the first thing that strikes me is their utter triviality.
On one level, that is a good thing. Not having more serious matters to complain about signals a safe and comfortable environment. No disputes over here whether children should be allowed to wear hoodies lest they perpetrate crime while hiding their faces! No terrorists wandering around with water bottles and iPods! The only social problem (haha I mean: what would be seen as a social problem in SG) I can think of involving waterbottles is the phenomenon of nervous white men loitering near Raffles City clutching a waterbottle and newspaper. According to Ian, the newspaper is to 'tiak' over car windows... so that people won't see oral sex not leading up to ordinary heterosexual sex being performed.
But back to the letters. The suggestions put forth adopt such a sweeping belt and braces approach that one suspects the government has taught its people all too well. Construction on sundays-- ask them don't build house on sunday. Two accidents involving buses in a few months-- quick! Put seatbelt! Then make illegal to not wear seatbelt. Loud ads-- ask SMRT to disallow. Smoking? Ban lor.
Is it just me or will other right-thinking, normal people agree that they are completely unreasonable and disproportionate solutions to the problems at hand? A little too heavy-handed, maybe? hm?!
Ok, rant over, back to Desperate Housewives.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Being on holiday in SG means lots of daytime TV, doing housework, going to the gym, and writing blog entries.
I just got home from the gym where I had a very bad experience with the gym lady. She really f-ed me off. Our Bishan sports stadium gym has the most bizarre rules of any gym I have ever been to or heard of.
1. No water bottles in the gym
2. No MP3 players in the gym
3. Must put your bag on the reception floor, together with a pile of other bags, with absolutely no security (laughed when I saw the sign: management is not responsible for any losses)
4. No books in the gym
5. Can't use any machine for more than 20minutes, even if nobody else is waiting to use it
6. Towels must be 30cm x 30cm
7. Can only drink water in the reception from the water cooler.
There was a sign above the water cooler saying 'No spitting or washing hands in water cooler'. Bishanites must be a really disgusting lot.
The hawkish gym woman came over and took all my stuff away when I was on the exercise bike. 'No books!' she said. 'No MP3 players!' I was understandably confused. What is the rationale behind this rule? I asked. She just hissed at me. Hissed! I tell you.
So I used the bike in the corner so I could keep my eye on my bag on the floor in the reception. And I had to change machines every 20 mins because she was watching me suspiciously. I was a rule-breaker! The Raffles boys (why don't they use their own fancy gym? they must have one or what's the point of private-school facilities then? I know they have their own bloody pool!) stared as I opened my cunningly hidden water bottle and took a swig from it.
After 5 minutes of utter boredom and biding my time til the gym woman was distracted with her kid, I walked quickly to my bag and grabbed it, took out my book, retreated to the farthest corner, and started to pedal, holding the book beside me such that it was blocked by my body. She didn't even notice! I could have stolen someone's bag and walked out!
The next time I go, I am going to wrap up all my stuff in my towel and sneak it in. Bloody hell
I just got home from the gym where I had a very bad experience with the gym lady. She really f-ed me off. Our Bishan sports stadium gym has the most bizarre rules of any gym I have ever been to or heard of.
1. No water bottles in the gym
2. No MP3 players in the gym
3. Must put your bag on the reception floor, together with a pile of other bags, with absolutely no security (laughed when I saw the sign: management is not responsible for any losses)
4. No books in the gym
5. Can't use any machine for more than 20minutes, even if nobody else is waiting to use it
6. Towels must be 30cm x 30cm
7. Can only drink water in the reception from the water cooler.
There was a sign above the water cooler saying 'No spitting or washing hands in water cooler'. Bishanites must be a really disgusting lot.
The hawkish gym woman came over and took all my stuff away when I was on the exercise bike. 'No books!' she said. 'No MP3 players!' I was understandably confused. What is the rationale behind this rule? I asked. She just hissed at me. Hissed! I tell you.
So I used the bike in the corner so I could keep my eye on my bag on the floor in the reception. And I had to change machines every 20 mins because she was watching me suspiciously. I was a rule-breaker! The Raffles boys (why don't they use their own fancy gym? they must have one or what's the point of private-school facilities then? I know they have their own bloody pool!) stared as I opened my cunningly hidden water bottle and took a swig from it.
After 5 minutes of utter boredom and biding my time til the gym woman was distracted with her kid, I walked quickly to my bag and grabbed it, took out my book, retreated to the farthest corner, and started to pedal, holding the book beside me such that it was blocked by my body. She didn't even notice! I could have stolen someone's bag and walked out!
The next time I go, I am going to wrap up all my stuff in my towel and sneak it in. Bloody hell
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Famous People That Know People We Know,
or Our Two Degrees of Separation From Various Household Names
One night Glor and I were watching Singapore Idol when Gloria mentioned that her friend Jenny knew long-haired braces guy, and various other not-so-obviously-noticeable contestants. Seems it's true that there are only 2 degrees of separation between Singaporeans. For fun, Glor and me decided to make a list of all the famous people that know people that we know. It's actually quite a respectable list.
We've only included famous people who would actually recognise the name of the person that we know; as in, if you said, 'Do you know Jonathon Lim?' to Hossan Leong, he would say, 'Of course! How is he, anyway?', hopefully with a smile. I've taken 'two degrees' to mean 'friend of a friend/relative' such that there is only one person who is the intermediary between the famous person, and us ('Glor, Tor and Family').
The threshold of famousity we've used for this list is name-recognition by the average person on the street. Therefore, worthy candidates such as 'guy from Electrico' (our friend KC's friend) have been rejected in favour of Cheryl Fox, and people who I believe to be flashes in the pan like Joanne Peh (my friend Sheena's ex-coursemate) have been left out to make space for old stalwarts like Patricia Mok. However, people who have been in the news recently for some reason or other have also been included, based on the assumption that the man on the street reads The Straits Times headlines on most days. In other words, if I've never heard of them, they're not famous.
These days, every young singaporean who has appeared however briefly on some TV programme or commercial considers themselves famous! Why has fame become desirable in itself? Surely it can and should only be the result of being particularly oustanding in your chosen field? I know that's an old-fashioned view. I'm sure that it was possible, even before the advent of reality TV, to get (in)famous without being talented. Many generations of young starlets have proved this. But due to the phenomenon of programmes like Big Brother, people have been able to 'get famous' by doing absolutely nothing, on TV. We all know that is the sensationalism that sells. Everytime someone has sex in front of the camera they get famous. What is this celebration of the lowest common denominator, and why is it suddenly ok to be a voyeur? But enough of this rant, let's look at the list.
In no particular order, Famous People etc.:
1. Paul Twohill
Is Gloria's friend, Jenny's friend. Paul is a contestant on Singapore Idol and although he has not proved his staying power yet, he is included on the list since he's the one who started this whole thing.
2. Eunice Olsen
Is our aunt's friend's niece. She is a Nominated Member of Parliament, and the former co-host of the Singapore version of Wheel of Fortune. She was also Miss Singapore Universe 2000.
3. Patricia Mok
Is Gloria's friend's aunt. She is a Mediacorp actress who often appears in comedies. She used to be on Channel 8 (Chinese language channel) quite a lot but has now crossed over to Channel 5 (English language channel) and can be seen in the sitcom My Sassy Neighbour.
4. David Rasif
Sorry I can't find a picture.
Who? The local lawyer who absconded with S$10mil of his clients' money! The man whose actions, in my own opinion, was behind the comment MM LKY made in an interview for a Law Society publication, reported in the papers around National Day. He stressed that lawyers must safeguard their clients' money. Seems obvious, but does this spell a more thorough professional conduct syllabus for PLCers? Haha!
Q1. You have a million dollars of clients' money. What do you do with it?
A. Hold it on behalf of your client
B. Run away with it to a country which does not have an extradition treaty with SG.
C. Nothing because one million Sing dollars is too little and not worth the potential punishment if you are caught.
He used to live in the same kampung as our grandparents. This ostensibly passes our 'two degrees' test because I asked my grandmother if he would know who she is and she said yes. Anyway she knows his parents.
5. Chee Soon Juan
Is Gloria's friend's cousin. Dr Chee Soon Juan of the Singapore Democratic Party gained notoriety in the 2001 general election when he made defamatory remarks about then Prime Minister Goh and Senior Minister Lee. Not smart. He has been declared bankrupt (couldn't pay the damages) and we (Singaporeans as a whole) haven't really heard from him since then.
6. Hossan Leong
Knows a director I've worked for before, Jonathon Lim. I know they definitely know each other because they shared a stage for 'Hark the Jingle Red-Nosed Chestnuts', an annual christmas musical-parody. I worked for Chestnuts when I was in VJ and then when I was bumming around, waiting to go to Uni. But Sean, one half of the stage duo of Sean and Jon, left the show and was replaced by Hossan Leong in one of he productions that I didn't get to watch. But Chestnuts still holds a special place in my heart. One year the centrepiece was a nativity play according to a soundtrack of Madonna's 80s hits, like Like A Prayer, Like A Virgin, Papa Don't Preach and Lucky Star. You can imagine.
Who can forget the deliciously irreverant one-liners! Though now admittedly dated, at the time they were genius.
From the makers of Titanic: (sung to the central tune of Les Miserables, "Do you hear the people sing?") Do You Hear The People Sink?
And,
[Jon knew the actual actor who played the Architect in the Matrix and got him to do a video cameo, so this really was the Architect]
Architect: Neo, you are the One. (pause) Ring To Rule Them All.
Architect: You are the One, Nemo (picture of disney clownfish).
7. Neil Humphreys
Taught me (TOR) speech and drama when I was in IJ. Maybe he won't recognise me anymore, but I'm sure he'll pretend to. He was a columnist for Today and has written a series of books about his experiences in Singapore including, Notes from an Even Smaller Island, and Scribbles from the Same Island. The Bill Bryson allusion is apt since Humphreys is an Englishman who lived in Toa Payoh, deep in the heartlands of Singapore, much like Bryson in middle America.
Here is a sample of his writing:http://www.wildsingapore.org/news/20050506/050618-1.htm
8. Cheryl Fox
Is Gloria's friend Vanessa's cousin. She was a TV news presenter on Channel News Asia and also does other stuff for Mediacorp.
9. Sylvia Toh Paik Choo
knows my grandmother. They used to live in the same housing estate. She's a writer for The New Paper and has written several funny books.
10. Adrian Lim
was a neighbour of our grandmother's cousin. He was a psychotic murderer who lived in Toa Payoh and killed a lot of vulnerable sweet young things in the 80s. Hence my mother's unwillingness to let me walk around Toa Payoh by myself even after he was safely caught.
I was going to put pictures on this post but can't make it work so you just have to imagine. It worked when I did a draft of this but suddenly all the pictures went away. I think it's the Blogger Ju On causing havoc the only way it knows how.
or Our Two Degrees of Separation From Various Household Names
One night Glor and I were watching Singapore Idol when Gloria mentioned that her friend Jenny knew long-haired braces guy, and various other not-so-obviously-noticeable contestants. Seems it's true that there are only 2 degrees of separation between Singaporeans. For fun, Glor and me decided to make a list of all the famous people that know people that we know. It's actually quite a respectable list.
We've only included famous people who would actually recognise the name of the person that we know; as in, if you said, 'Do you know Jonathon Lim?' to Hossan Leong, he would say, 'Of course! How is he, anyway?', hopefully with a smile. I've taken 'two degrees' to mean 'friend of a friend/relative' such that there is only one person who is the intermediary between the famous person, and us ('Glor, Tor and Family').
The threshold of famousity we've used for this list is name-recognition by the average person on the street. Therefore, worthy candidates such as 'guy from Electrico' (our friend KC's friend) have been rejected in favour of Cheryl Fox, and people who I believe to be flashes in the pan like Joanne Peh (my friend Sheena's ex-coursemate) have been left out to make space for old stalwarts like Patricia Mok. However, people who have been in the news recently for some reason or other have also been included, based on the assumption that the man on the street reads The Straits Times headlines on most days. In other words, if I've never heard of them, they're not famous.
These days, every young singaporean who has appeared however briefly on some TV programme or commercial considers themselves famous! Why has fame become desirable in itself? Surely it can and should only be the result of being particularly oustanding in your chosen field? I know that's an old-fashioned view. I'm sure that it was possible, even before the advent of reality TV, to get (in)famous without being talented. Many generations of young starlets have proved this. But due to the phenomenon of programmes like Big Brother, people have been able to 'get famous' by doing absolutely nothing, on TV. We all know that is the sensationalism that sells. Everytime someone has sex in front of the camera they get famous. What is this celebration of the lowest common denominator, and why is it suddenly ok to be a voyeur? But enough of this rant, let's look at the list.
In no particular order, Famous People etc.:
1. Paul Twohill
Is Gloria's friend, Jenny's friend. Paul is a contestant on Singapore Idol and although he has not proved his staying power yet, he is included on the list since he's the one who started this whole thing.
2. Eunice Olsen
Is our aunt's friend's niece. She is a Nominated Member of Parliament, and the former co-host of the Singapore version of Wheel of Fortune. She was also Miss Singapore Universe 2000.
3. Patricia Mok
Is Gloria's friend's aunt. She is a Mediacorp actress who often appears in comedies. She used to be on Channel 8 (Chinese language channel) quite a lot but has now crossed over to Channel 5 (English language channel) and can be seen in the sitcom My Sassy Neighbour.
4. David Rasif
Sorry I can't find a picture.
Who? The local lawyer who absconded with S$10mil of his clients' money! The man whose actions, in my own opinion, was behind the comment MM LKY made in an interview for a Law Society publication, reported in the papers around National Day. He stressed that lawyers must safeguard their clients' money. Seems obvious, but does this spell a more thorough professional conduct syllabus for PLCers? Haha!
Q1. You have a million dollars of clients' money. What do you do with it?
A. Hold it on behalf of your client
B. Run away with it to a country which does not have an extradition treaty with SG.
C. Nothing because one million Sing dollars is too little and not worth the potential punishment if you are caught.
He used to live in the same kampung as our grandparents. This ostensibly passes our 'two degrees' test because I asked my grandmother if he would know who she is and she said yes. Anyway she knows his parents.
5. Chee Soon Juan
Is Gloria's friend's cousin. Dr Chee Soon Juan of the Singapore Democratic Party gained notoriety in the 2001 general election when he made defamatory remarks about then Prime Minister Goh and Senior Minister Lee. Not smart. He has been declared bankrupt (couldn't pay the damages) and we (Singaporeans as a whole) haven't really heard from him since then.
6. Hossan Leong
Knows a director I've worked for before, Jonathon Lim. I know they definitely know each other because they shared a stage for 'Hark the Jingle Red-Nosed Chestnuts', an annual christmas musical-parody. I worked for Chestnuts when I was in VJ and then when I was bumming around, waiting to go to Uni. But Sean, one half of the stage duo of Sean and Jon, left the show and was replaced by Hossan Leong in one of he productions that I didn't get to watch. But Chestnuts still holds a special place in my heart. One year the centrepiece was a nativity play according to a soundtrack of Madonna's 80s hits, like Like A Prayer, Like A Virgin, Papa Don't Preach and Lucky Star. You can imagine.
Who can forget the deliciously irreverant one-liners! Though now admittedly dated, at the time they were genius.
From the makers of Titanic: (sung to the central tune of Les Miserables, "Do you hear the people sing?") Do You Hear The People Sink?
And,
[Jon knew the actual actor who played the Architect in the Matrix and got him to do a video cameo, so this really was the Architect]
Architect: Neo, you are the One. (pause) Ring To Rule Them All.
Architect: You are the One, Nemo (picture of disney clownfish).
7. Neil Humphreys
Taught me (TOR) speech and drama when I was in IJ. Maybe he won't recognise me anymore, but I'm sure he'll pretend to. He was a columnist for Today and has written a series of books about his experiences in Singapore including, Notes from an Even Smaller Island, and Scribbles from the Same Island. The Bill Bryson allusion is apt since Humphreys is an Englishman who lived in Toa Payoh, deep in the heartlands of Singapore, much like Bryson in middle America.
Here is a sample of his writing:http://www.wildsingapore.org/news/20050506/050618-1.htm
8. Cheryl Fox
Is Gloria's friend Vanessa's cousin. She was a TV news presenter on Channel News Asia and also does other stuff for Mediacorp.
9. Sylvia Toh Paik Choo
knows my grandmother. They used to live in the same housing estate. She's a writer for The New Paper and has written several funny books.
10. Adrian Lim
was a neighbour of our grandmother's cousin. He was a psychotic murderer who lived in Toa Payoh and killed a lot of vulnerable sweet young things in the 80s. Hence my mother's unwillingness to let me walk around Toa Payoh by myself even after he was safely caught.
I was going to put pictures on this post but can't make it work so you just have to imagine. It worked when I did a draft of this but suddenly all the pictures went away. I think it's the Blogger Ju On causing havoc the only way it knows how.
Friday, August 11, 2006
THIS IS TOR! TOR! NOT GLOR
We aren't very sophisticated, are we? But everytime I am back in Singapore, I feel my mind regressing and sinking into mush. My usually razor-sharp wit degenerates from watching too much CSI. I'm planning a trip to the east coast of australia with my boyfriend, Jamie, where we will can guan beautiful sandy beaches, majestic waterfalls, and giant earthworms. It will be like something out of Slaughterhouse Five (or substitute with any other post-apocalyptic movie set in the deserted future with large mutated animals). We're still in the research stage and he just asked his friend, amusingly named 'Chris, the Nazi', what to expect from hostels.
So he sent me this email:
"Regarding hostels in general, he (Chris) said on a note of caution, "they are full of 18 year old kids trying to get laid and it gets pretty tiring". He recommended staying in a few hotels along the way to avoid the desire to murder horny teenagers. Basically we will be the oldest people there
- Apparently there is a reason why dorm rooms are so much cheaper. This is because they are full of 18 year old kids trying to get laid. They are pretty noisy and tend to stay up all night.
- Don't bother with the OZ experience. An East Coast Greyhound pass will take you to the same places for about 2/3 of the price. Again, the OZ experience is full of 18 year old kids trying to get laid.
So, basically, 18 year old kids trying to get laid may haunt us. Personally I'm happy to pay a bit more at times to have somewhere slightly nicer. Having roughed it throughout Europe I can tell you its not nearly as earthy and romantic as you might imagine. It can get extremely depressing. And as we'll have more money than God next year we may as well try to be as comfortable as possible."
I feel old. One big attraction of the east coast for me is the possibility of seeing giant earthworms, like this:
We aren't very sophisticated, are we? But everytime I am back in Singapore, I feel my mind regressing and sinking into mush. My usually razor-sharp wit degenerates from watching too much CSI. I'm planning a trip to the east coast of australia with my boyfriend, Jamie, where we will can guan beautiful sandy beaches, majestic waterfalls, and giant earthworms. It will be like something out of Slaughterhouse Five (or substitute with any other post-apocalyptic movie set in the deserted future with large mutated animals). We're still in the research stage and he just asked his friend, amusingly named 'Chris, the Nazi', what to expect from hostels.
So he sent me this email:
"Regarding hostels in general, he (Chris) said on a note of caution, "they are full of 18 year old kids trying to get laid and it gets pretty tiring". He recommended staying in a few hotels along the way to avoid the desire to murder horny teenagers. Basically we will be the oldest people there
- Apparently there is a reason why dorm rooms are so much cheaper. This is because they are full of 18 year old kids trying to get laid. They are pretty noisy and tend to stay up all night.
- Don't bother with the OZ experience. An East Coast Greyhound pass will take you to the same places for about 2/3 of the price. Again, the OZ experience is full of 18 year old kids trying to get laid.
So, basically, 18 year old kids trying to get laid may haunt us. Personally I'm happy to pay a bit more at times to have somewhere slightly nicer. Having roughed it throughout Europe I can tell you its not nearly as earthy and romantic as you might imagine. It can get extremely depressing. And as we'll have more money than God next year we may as well try to be as comfortable as possible."
I feel old. One big attraction of the east coast for me is the possibility of seeing giant earthworms, like this:
Notice that the caption says 'juvenile' giant earthworm. Imagine what the adult version would look like!
So it got me thinking about what I was doing when I was 18. What was I doing when I was 18? Writing a play with my groupmates for our A level exams about how we were all cheena-piang even though none of us wanted to be, aka 'finding our roots through drama' and other wanky pretensious bullshit. My 18 year old sister is presently trying to get to level 60 for world of warcraft. It makes me wonder if we should have been trying to get laid and if we have missed out on a world of fun (and syphilis).
I suppose I would rather Gloria define her existence by trying to get to level 60 than trying to get laid.
I know I have definitely missed out on my most fruitful backpacker years. Now that I am old, I prefer my bit of comfort, ie. air-conditioned rooms, or even, rooms, instead of tents. In Greece, I know I preferred my own double bed in our rented villa on Mykonos to our 7euro a night Athens bunkbed. Yet part of travelling rough is the possibility of meeting new people (usually with a view to having another place to crash should you decide to visit their home city in future), and you meet the most people by sharing a dorm room in hostels.
Sometimes, young people being young people, they fall into each others' beds. Gloria and I witnessed first-hand such a phenomenon in Paris. But I can't be bothered to tell you about it because it is a boring story anyway.
I had a very innocent and boring childhood/teenagehood. I never took any drugs or had alcohol or casual sex, as my frustrated ex-boyfriends will testify. I didn't get to travel until I was safely out of the country, when I was 20. Jamie is right to say that we will be the oldest there. Even when I was in Shanghai I was the 2nd oldest in my little group of acceptable people to hang out with. When did I go from always being the youngest in every group to being the oldest?
My childhood was really quite idyllic. I had 50cents to spend every day. When I wanted to splurge, I would save up and spend a whole fifty cents on a giant bag of ikan bilis, with chilli of course.
That was in Primary 1. My standard lunch would be a 30cent plate of curry chicken which would include 1 potato cut into half and 1 piece of chicken. And a 10cent cup of fako ribena that was actually made from cheap grape cordial of some sort. Or a very small plate of mee siam for 40cents which came with half a boiled egg. And perhaps a packet of seaweed (4 paper-thin slices) for 10cents as a snack for later. Or chee cheong fun with thick black sweet sauce and sesame seed oil for 30cents and mixed fruit punch for 10cents. That way I could have 10cents left over to buy stickers from the school stationery shop to add to my collection of shiny stickers, scratch 'n' sniff stickers, furry stickers, 'branded' stickers like carebears and my little pony collection, and glow in the dark stickers.
For amusement, we would play, 'What is the time, Mr Wolf'? and other enlightened games like catching which allowed us to run around and not be fat. Nowadays, schoolchildren eat at MacDonalds and just watch movies on their iPods. While waiting for the bus, our favourite activity was to pluck little red Ixora flowers growing by the roadside, take out the stamen of the flower, and suck out the nectar. Now, kids have sex in void decks.
I remember the time blue M&Ms did not exist. Remember when kitkat was packaged in foil then wrapped in paper? Now you have chunky kitkat, peanut kitkat, sakura kitkat. I think their sales would increase if they brought back the paper-wrapped kitkat. Do you remember the days before blue M&Ms? If you do, you must be at least 20. Ah, those were simpler times.
I remember when there was no MacDonalds in Bishan. Now, there are 2 in Junction 8 alone! Do you remember the time you thought MacDonalds was not evil, but a place of happiness and fun and nice ice-cream in cones? Yes, when we were like those deluded little children in Supersize Me who ultimately could not recognise a picture of Jesus Christ or George Bush but pointed out Ronald MacDonald easily. Now my 18 year old sister is aware and mature enough to realise that they are taking over the world. So perhaps there is hope yet.
My teenage years were marked by trying to do well, not to get in the popular girls' way and arrogantly trying to assert my superiority over all (what's new, haha). I'm sure we have all been there. Then the later JC years were all about biding my time until I could flee the overwhelming inanity of everyday life here. Now all I want to do is set up a kopitiam in London so I can re-capture this mundane sense of sian-ness. But it will be an artistic, fashionable, ironic sian-ness, which some people call ennui. And I will let people smoke and read whatever wanky postmodern continental writers they want to. I will serve teh, teh-peng, skinny teh-peng(reduced fat condensed milk), kopi, skinny kopi, kopi with dao huay chui, green tea, green tea peng and various bubble teas.
Then I would have loads of nibbly things on the menu, like curry puff, ikan bilis, prata, durian puff, spring roll, nasi lemak and laksa (with ham! not ham, ham! i.e cockles) Would you patronise my cafe?
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Alright, wrote this in class, like I used to before work piled up.
Eldred is back! With longer hair and a goatee sort of thing, which makes him look older. It doesn't help that he needs the aid of a cane to get around, even if it is a very pretty plastic one, being clear and very non-grandfather looking. It's very amusing to stroll down Orchard arm in arm with him, especially in my school uniform. It's good to have him back.
Speaking of assistance, econs tuition is a wonder. The tutor is in such high damand that there is little space left; they might open another slot, for the popular prelim prep class, making 7 slots in all. Thank god for my early sign up. So if anyone needs econs tuition, drop me a msg quick, and I'll point you in the right direction.
(This was when I migrated to the colder climate of Geog lecture). No one's paying attention as we're all too burnt out from doing nothing but geog essay outlines since we got back to school this term. This is the place where the most nonsense takes place; random scribbles on the attendance sheet going around, and pictures taken, under the table. Today one of my male classmates is trying to draw blue chest hair on himself. This is alright, because if he were trying to draw chest hair on the boy next to him, that would be really odd.
My mum's on leave til tomorrow and is having a ball of a time cleaning the house. She was cleaning the windows today when she discovered fingerprints on the outer side of the window, of the study room. No one from the house has had cause to press a face against that window for ages, so... ah well. Anyway, if anyone really were trying to break in, sawing through the grills would wake up the whole neighbourhood.
Oh woe is me, for Bol bol has not arrived, and my sister gets back tomorrow. I think she's just going to take the liberty of ninja-ing my bolster while I'm asleep, so why don't I just save her the trouble and give it up, ne? After all, she's done it since she was 7, what's to stop her from doing it now that she's 23? She will also make up something to actually justify it, mark my words.
grumblegrumble
Eldred is back! With longer hair and a goatee sort of thing, which makes him look older. It doesn't help that he needs the aid of a cane to get around, even if it is a very pretty plastic one, being clear and very non-grandfather looking. It's very amusing to stroll down Orchard arm in arm with him, especially in my school uniform. It's good to have him back.
Speaking of assistance, econs tuition is a wonder. The tutor is in such high damand that there is little space left; they might open another slot, for the popular prelim prep class, making 7 slots in all. Thank god for my early sign up. So if anyone needs econs tuition, drop me a msg quick, and I'll point you in the right direction.
(This was when I migrated to the colder climate of Geog lecture). No one's paying attention as we're all too burnt out from doing nothing but geog essay outlines since we got back to school this term. This is the place where the most nonsense takes place; random scribbles on the attendance sheet going around, and pictures taken, under the table. Today one of my male classmates is trying to draw blue chest hair on himself. This is alright, because if he were trying to draw chest hair on the boy next to him, that would be really odd.
My mum's on leave til tomorrow and is having a ball of a time cleaning the house. She was cleaning the windows today when she discovered fingerprints on the outer side of the window, of the study room. No one from the house has had cause to press a face against that window for ages, so... ah well. Anyway, if anyone really were trying to break in, sawing through the grills would wake up the whole neighbourhood.
Oh woe is me, for Bol bol has not arrived, and my sister gets back tomorrow. I think she's just going to take the liberty of ninja-ing my bolster while I'm asleep, so why don't I just save her the trouble and give it up, ne? After all, she's done it since she was 7, what's to stop her from doing it now that she's 23? She will also make up something to actually justify it, mark my words.
grumblegrumble