Pencil Shavings

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Sign here

Okay, I'm stressed. It is a dull nervousness that makes my fingers cold and my mind go blank. I'm not even sure why I feel stressed. Most of the urgent work is out of the way; my boss and colleagues will be leaving for a two-week holiday soon; and I'm in a very good place at work now. But I received something in the mail today that is making me all jittery.

All it says is.. "Here is the xxxx renewal contract for your confirmation" and my legs have all turned to jelly. Me, sign? All I've signed so far are misery little receipts for misery little amounts. No big deal, right, put your name on the dotted line and the sum will be deducted from the company's coffers. Have I told anyone that I hate spending money?

I think I'm going to go make a powerpoint or two to calm my nerves before looking at that email again. Meanwhile, I need to stop mumbling "stress.." under my breath in the pantry so my colleagues won't walk into me and think I'm a wuss, which I am, anyway.

P.S. 4 more days to the race and I am eating PURE JUNK. Sigh.
P.P.S OWEN MEANY is restoring my faith in John Irving.

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Tuesday, November 29, 2005

I need to get back to work

but I really have to say this:

  1. Coffee should be its own food group.
  2. MCYS has produced an e-consultation paper which addresses the issue of cycling in Singapore. Point T5 says "Bicycle neglect policy not working". The full paper elaborates:

T5. Bicycle policy neglect is not working

Bicycle safety again hit the news several times in 2005 in embarrassing and tragic ways.

  • We lack a coherent policy towards bicycles as a part of the transport system. LTA is the leading land transport policy agency but so far the LTA has seemed reluctant to provide leadership in this area, to take primary responsibility for bicycle policy or to take bicycles seriously in general.
  • We suggest that the LTA commission a serious study of the policy options on bicycles. Bicycle policy involves more than ‘bicycle lanes’ and includes software issues of education, enforcement, encouragement as well as engineering (hardware) issues. We still need a coherent policy even if we decide not to encourage bicycles as much as European or Japanese cities do.
  • Bicycle use is ignored in transport data collection. Cycling in certain parts of the island (for example, the east and north and in many parks) and for certain purposes (eg trips to MRT and especially for leisure) appears to be increasing but it is difficult to know for sure. We should include bicycles in all travel surveys
  • In practice, many bicycle users ride on pavements (which is currently illegal but with the prohibition not enforced) while some use the roads. MP Irene Ng suggested making pavement cycling legal (as in Japan) and the Traffic Police are reviewing this issue. However, even if pavement cycling becomes legal, many bicycles will continue to be ridden on roads (bicycles may appear on any road that is legally open to them).
  • Significant aspects of the road network have been designed without apparent awareness that bicycles will be used on them, thus failing to take responsibility for the safety of a group of legitimate road users. LTA’s road design standards should include a statutory requirement for bicycle safety and convenience to be considered in the design or redesign of every road where bicycles are legal to be ridden (even if no special facilities are provided).[1] Examples of dangerous designs include: multiple left turning lanes (especially when one of these allows for both a left turn or to proceed straight); narrow kerb-side lanes; narrow bus lanes; drainage grates running parallel to traffic; slip road designs that encourage high traffic speeds on left turns; multi-lane roundabouts.
  • We suggest that the Traffic Police focus limited enforcement resources on those behaviours (both by motor vehicles and bicycle users) that are most dangerous (a bicycle-safety-focused enforcement strategy). Relevant agencies: LTA, MOT, MHA, Traffic Police


[1] See for example, AASHTO design guidance 1999, which states: “All highways, except those where cyclists are legally prohibited, should be designed and constructed under the assumption that they will be used by cyclists. Therefore, bicycles should be considered in all phases of transportation planning, new roadway design, roadway reconstruction, and capacity improvement and transit projects." (p.1)

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Congrats!

Congrats to Colin, former journalist now financial guru, for penning his 50,000th word and finishing his NaNoWriMo project last night! He is now the proud author of a published work. Read his story, Of Gifts Ungiven, here. Eh Colin, got free e-book format or not? ;)

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Monday, November 28, 2005

Bits and pieces

Today is a fairly long day at work for me, but it is nothing compared to renohtaram's work day. My shoulders are tired from having to hold my head up. Looking forward to snuggling with Owen Meany later, though I would much prefer snuggling with someone else.

Advent began this past Sunday. Not sure why Advent means so much to me. Perhaps it is because that tension between expectation and joy captures the essence of Christianity, heck, the essence of life, for me. Read about the meaning of Advent here.

This is also the last week to the half marathon. Kinda excited, but I keep forgetting about it too, since I've been busy.

Also, one phone and two SIM cards is just not a good idea.

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Sunday, November 27, 2005

Pickpocketed

Well, someone stole my mobile phone yesterday. I'm not sure how he or she did it -- it must have been in the crowded "This Fashion" shop at Suntec yeterday evening. The pickpocket also managed to help himself to the cash in my wallet, all of ten dollars.

I'm not too upset about it. It isn't an expensive phone and my mobile phone contract expires this month, so I have various options available. I am also relieved that the pickpocket didn't take my wallet (with IC and ATM card) and that there wasn't more money in the wallet. How he managed to get the cash out and return the wallet though -- now, that is a scary thought!

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Friday, November 25, 2005

Running slower now

Why is it that though my weekly mileage is at an all-time high, I am actually running slower than before? :(

I just finished the 7.2km benchmark in 44 minutes. I had to stop a few times to catch my breath and felt like crap most of the second loop. Why?

The fastest time clocked for the 7.2km benchmark was after a week's training in the gym. Somehow I think access to a gym helps a lot.

Meanwhile, after the half marathon, I think I will work on increasing my speed for middle distances, and putting back some oomph into those triceps.

Category: Running

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Don't tell me

I live up to my parents' expectations, simply by acting the part and keeping from them what I know will hurt them. And in many ways, I expect them to meet my expectations too, by keeping from me what I don't want to know.

The first day of the sexpo exhibition in Singapore was swamped with participants mostly in their 50s and 60s. The sexpo exhibition is the first of its kind in Singapore that is devoted to adult toys and sexual health. Anyway, The Straits Times had a large picture of this auntie and uncle, the far-sighted uncle having taken off his glasses so he could see better, looking at a ancient Chinese sex torture horse girdle thing used to torture wayward females.

I just don't want to know.

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Thursday, November 24, 2005

Over the hill

Day Distance
Monday 7.4 km
Thursday 1.82 km
Saturday 13.8 km
Sunday 18.4 km
Weekly Total 41.4 km

First week over 40km. To celebrate, here is a quote from the blog of Track & Field Olympian, Joan Nesbit Mabe, Songs of Experience.

On Monday I was invited to speak to the local middle school cross-country team. When I give talks to kids, I usually try to use props … like one time when I brought an old phone book and tore out individual sheets to give to each runner. “Here,” I said, “Rip this in half.” Everone ripped with a vengence until there were 50 torn sheets of phone book paper fluttering in the air. “Okay,” I said, “That was easy, right? Try tearing this in half.” I then passed around the thick phone book. Several of the older boys gave it a good effort, grunting and turning red, trying - trrryyyyyiing - with all their 8th grade might to rip the thing. Impossible.

SO, my point was, if you run as a bunch of individuals, it’s easy for a team to beat you in cross-country (like ripping the one sheet in half)… but if you run as a pack, your strength multiplies exponentially. You can’t beat the phonebook. “Be the phonebook,” I urged. I heard, later, that the team still chants, “Be the phonebook!” (perhaps in jest?) and I gave that talk several years ago.

My most recent talk was about moving from “I love to run” … to “I love to race” … to ” I love to win.” How do you get from point A to point C? Training. I quoted Mihaly Igloi, “Every day hard training must make.” And then, to illustrate this point, I brought in a tupperware container with a pint of cream. “The cream is you as someone who, simply, loves to run,” I said as I poured the cream into the tupperware and then sealed it shut. The container had the words, “Every day hard training must make,” written on it. I passed the tupperware around and had everyone on the team shake it for all it was worth! After 5-7 minutes of vigorous, non-stop shaking [”hard training”] we opened the container to find the cream totally transformed into butter. “You, too, will be completely transformed into racers and winners if you train hard,” I concluded.

Inside the container, the solid yellow butter was separated from the skim whey milk and one of kids yelled out, “Hey, that’s our sweat!”

They GOT it.

by Joan Nesbit Mabe

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Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Anyone wants to swap

their 10km for a half marathon?

I'm asking on behalf of a friend.

Let me know soon!

Thanks! :)

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Jumping in anyway

Even though I don't know if I can swim.

I hate this feeling.

I just handed in a draft proposal for a work project a new boss tasked me over the weekend. I've no idea whether the proposal I sent in is good or not, considering I've never done anything like this before, and this work project is the first task of many this new boss is giving me, in view of, dare I say it aloud?, a possible promotion with an expanded portfolio.

The expanded portfolio scares the dickens out of me.

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How to mount bike light on helmet?

Otterman has his blinking red bike light mounted onto his helmet. How cool is that?

I also want... How to mount?

(For that matter, I also want his iBook and lightly tinted shades.)

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Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Quiz: Hope as an anchor

In reply to Anonymous' comment on my post Girl, Interrupted, I am reminded of one of my dearest phrases -- "Hope as an anchor".

First person who correctly identifies where this phrase is from and gives the context will win a personally drawn postcard by me in the mail, aesthetics not guaranteed.

The contest begins now!

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Sunday, November 20, 2005

Sundays

My Sundays have settled into a very pleasurable pattern.

After attending morning church service, I amble to the library to pick up the week’s supply of books. Then I hop onto a bus back home to read and rest until evening when I go for the long jog of the week.

I am strangely content.

This is the proposed route for this evening's run. If we manage to finish this route, I would say our training for the half marathon is complete!


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Saturday, November 19, 2005

Girl, Interrupted





Girl, Interrupted
is Susanna Kaysen's personal account of her stay in a mental institution. It is simply told, yet the words manage to transport you into her world in the late 60s. Compared with One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, this tale is less chilling and satirical. This tale is also true. The first chapter is stellar:

Toward a topography of the Parrallel Universe

People ask, How did you get in there? What they really want to know is if they are likely to end up in there as well. I can’t answer the real question. All I can tell them is, It’s easy.

And it is easy to slip into a parallel universe. There are so many of them: worlds of the insane, the criminal, the crippled, the dying, perhaps of the dead as well. These worlds exist alongside this world and resemble it, but are not in it.

My roommate Georgina came in swiftly and totally, during her junior year at Vassar. She was in a theatre watching a movie when a tidal wave of blackness broke over her head. The entire world was obliterated – for a few minutes. She knew she had gone crazy. She looked around the theatre to see if it had happened to everyone, but all the other people were engrossed in the movie. She rushed out, because the darkness in the theatre was too much when combined with the darkness in her head.

And after that? I asked her.

A lot of darkness, she said.

But most people pass over incrementally, making a series of perforations in the membrane between here and there until an opening exists. And who can resist an opening?

In the parallel universe the laws of physics are suspended. What goes up does not necessarily come down, a body at rest does not tend to stay at rest, and not every action can be counted on to provoke an equal and opposite reaction. Time, too, is different. It may run in circles, flow backward, skip about from now to then. The very arrangement of molecules is fluid: Tables can be clocks, faces, flowers.

These are facts you find out later, though.

Another odd feature of the parallel universe is that although it is invisible from this side, once you are in it you can easily see the world you came from. Sometimes the world you came from looks huge and menacing, quivering like a vast pile of jelly, at other times it is miniaturized and alluring, a-spin and shining in its orbit. Either way, it can’t be discounted.

Every window on Alcatraz has a view of San Francisco.

Ever feel that way, that you are looking from yourself from outside, as if you are not really you? Sometimes, late at night, when the buzz of life quietens down and I find myself writing, time seems to slow down to a crawl and it feels like I can see myself forming each letter, each word, slowly, and I lose the meaning what I am doing, and I can only observe dispassionately as the letters appear. It is a strange sensation.

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Friday, November 18, 2005

Craving regular breathing

I need to run this evening.

I am a bundle of nervous energy. I wrote an email to the boss-man to tell him that the lack of advancement in my current position did not sit well with me, and now they've come back to me with a few proposals, all of which involve a lot more work and a lot more responsibility that I'm used to.

I need to run to rub that edge off my thoughts so I can think this through. Do I really want what they are proposing?

I need to run until the regular rhythmic breathing gives me comfort.

There are as many reasons to run as there are days in a year, hours in a decade, minutes in a life.

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What does goggle god say I need?

Picked up a meme from Jim. What you do is to type in your name into google, followed by the word "needs" and write down the top ten hits.

So, I need

... to be fit as it is at the top of quite a steep hill.
... to learn to be “yielded and still.”
... clients from every part of North America.
... to be properly tamed into a petite lady
... to pay attention to sign.
... to respond even in the waking state

I think it is hilarious. :) Thanks Jim!

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Itch



It itches right there. What is that part of the foot called anyway?

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Thursday, November 17, 2005

Lost words

Writing an article and all the words have gone into hiding, squeezing into little nooks and crannies, in between the space between m-n-o-p, slipping off the page and falling away into never never land.

And I cannot find them.

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Rain


What if it rains on 4 Dec, 2005?

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Wednesday, November 16, 2005

:(

Where is pop?

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Tuesday, November 15, 2005

The thinking place

Strange how I get most of my work done on the bus to work than in the office. By the time I buckle down in front of the computer, I am better at doing than thinking, and I would be lucky to squeeze out one original thought then.

When are you most creative?

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The Elements of Style




Unlike Portugese Irregular Verbs, this is a book on grammar, composition and style. After reading this concise rulebook by William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White from cover to cover, I am now intensely conscious of how rambly these posts are. I obviously break the first rule in the chapter on style: `1. Place yourself in the background'.


I also break (and intend to keep breaking) the first rule in the grammar section:
1. Form possessive singular nouns by adding 's.
Follow this rule whatever the final consonent. Thus write,

Charles's friend
Burns's poem

Some rules are a useful reminder:
9. The number of the subject determines the number of verbs.
A common blunder is the use of a singular verb form in a relative clause following "one of..." or a similar expression when the relative is the subject.

Wrong
One of the ablest scientists who has attacked this problem.

Right
One of the ablest scientists who have attacked this problem.

It is surprisingly witty:
Flammable. An oddity, chiefly useful for saving lives. The common word meaning "combustible" is inflammable. But some people are thrown off by the in- and think inflammable means "not combustible". For this reason, trucks carrying gasoline or explosives are now marked FLAMMABLE. Unless you are operating such a truck and hence are concerned with the safety of children and illiterates, use inflammable.

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Monday, November 14, 2005

Portugese Irregular Verbs

No this isn't a book about Portugese grammar. This is the first book of a trilogy by Alexander McCall Smith comprising Portugese Irregular Verbs, The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs, and At the Villa of Reduced Circumstances, the third of which I read in April this year.

The series revolves around the adventures of Professor Dr Mortiz-Maria von Igelfeld, a pompous Professor specialising in ancient and obscure languages. Although it is touted to be "deliciously funny", the only chapter that made me smile was the first, `The Principles of Tennis', where a group of academics tried to play tennis according to a rulebook.

The other stories were mediocre, even on the verge of xenophobic. For example, in the last chapter `Death in Venice', von Igelfeld keeps imagining the water tainted and the stares of a Polish family. In both this chapter as well as `Holy Man', von Igelfeld is relieved to return to Germany, "dear, friendly, safe, comfortable Germany!".

All of this is to be taken in a light-hearted vein I suppose, but as a whole, it is not quite my cup of tea. The binding and cover of the book is lovely though.

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Sunday, November 13, 2005

The library is cool

The National Library is a cool establishment. In illustration of their coolness, you can now borrow up to eight books, up from the usual four, all the way to 31 Jan 2006. If you are a family of four, this means that you can borrow up to 32 books altogether! (How you would finish reading 32 books in three weeks is another matter, the fact remains that you could borrow 32 books, if you really wanted to.)

In celebration of this announcement, I went to the library and checked out these books:

  1. Porturgese Irregular Verbs, Alexander McCall Smith
  2. The Adventures of Augie March, Saul Bellow
  3. The Elements of Style, Strunk and White
  4. A Prayer for Owen Meany, John Irving
  5. Girl, Interupted, Susanna Kaysen
  6. Indian in 6, Monisha Bharadwaj

Other reasons why the Library is cool:

  1. It has an online catalogue.
  2. It has its own book blog.
  3. It allows you to make recommendations for new purchases.
  4. They email you 3 days before your book is due.
  5. They don't make you settle your fines before you borrow.
  6. It is free to be a member, if you are Singaporean.

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Friday, November 11, 2005

I feel like crap

And no wonder. This is my first run this week.

I was supposed to run 7.2km but after the first loop, I felt like dying. It was only 3.5km! The race is less than a month away!

Sigh. I think I'll run really really really slowly tomorrow and try to get some distance in.

I'm just glad this tiring and busy week at work is over. I think the bosses think that presentations are made by magic. Next week will still be busy, but not in that if-you-don't-do-this-right-now-you're-gonna-be-so-screwed way.

NB: Why have all my friends suddenly jumped on the blogging bandwagon?

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The supernatural

Stumbled upon this website yesterday that described the rituals at a syncretistic temple in Tampines, Singapore. This temple, known as the Jiutiaoqiao Xinba Nadugong Temple, houses three deities from three very different religious traditions. There is Ganesha (Hinduism), Nadugong/Natoh Gong (Islam), Dabogong/Tua Peh Gong (Taoism). All three are worshipped under the same roof. And get this, as a symbol of "religious harmony", twelve decorated Christmas tree will also be included!

Reading the account of the rituals at this temple and seeing the pictures of the possessed mediums gave me the shivers. Go see them yourself. But don't blame me if you get the heeby-jeebies.

The supernatural is very close to us here in Singapore. At the folk religion level, the philosophy of the religion really doesn't matter. As long as you can "bai-bai" (worship) the god, you might as well do so to increase your favour with all the gods. It is increasigly common to find Chinese people worshipping at Hindu temples. In fact, one of the pictures on that website shows a Chinese person carry the kevadi, a traditional Hindu form of offering. It also shows a Chinese woman possessed as an Hindu god, dancing in a sari with her tongue sticking out. The "possessed dead" were really scary.

Overall, Taoism is the fastest declining religion here, falling from 30% in 1980 to 8.5% in 2000. Most of these Taoists become Buddhists, switching to the textualised philosophy that Buddhism offers. Yet, my theory is that in our heart of hearts, whether we are Buddhists or Christians, we still have that kernel of fear and admiration for the supernatural.

Compare the Taoists' rituals to the charismatic's speaking in tongues and being slain in the spirit. As we move further away from being "fresh converts", the horror we used to have about the supenatural dwindles, and that kernel of fear and admiration draws us back again to supernatural manifestations of god. We want these manifestations. We are an orthoprathic people, not an orthodox people.

This also explains why the Protestant churches in Singapore are as a rule, so much busier with programmes than the churches in the United States. Programmes have become our practice of religion. If we aren't doing something, we don't feel religious enough. The Catholics, on the other hand, seem less busy and happier to let things flow. I suspect it is because the Catholic church is replete with supernatural rituals -- they eat the body and blood of Christ every week! The Protestants lost these rituals gradually along the way, and so make up with programmes aplenty.

When do you feel the closest to the supernatural?

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Thursday, November 10, 2005

Defending the blog

Some older Christians tend to pooh-pooh at the concept of blogging. I’ve heard it said that reading blogs are a waste of time. A survey in the US reported that one out of four workers spent an average of 9% of their workweek (3.5 hours) reading blogs, and that Americans will spend the equivalent of 551,000 years reading blogs unrelated to their work.

A pastor said -- Why read blogs which are usually unprocessed thoughts and gripes when you can read the formed, mature thoughts of bygone philosophers and saints?

While some tend to pick up only on evidence of how modern society is going to the dogs, I only see the potential.

Blogs bring new meaning to the term “living testament”, or “living book”. What you read here on this page is really my life flattened out into words. If you are a popular blogger, let’s say mrbrown, you have the opportunity to interact with hundreds of thousands of people. When I read the post about mrbrown running into the pool fully clothed to pull his autistic daughter out of the deep water, I was touched by his unconditional love. That kind of thing.

Reading blogs also fosters compassion for other people. If you read with an open mind, you get a sense of what it is like in the other person’s shoes. What is it like to be a pastor and have to close down your church? What is it like to feel as if all the teachers are always picking on you? What is it like to be branded a hopeless case? What is it like to fail an exam? What is it like to be dumped? What it is like to be human...

I have to get back to work now.

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Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Lots of work today

Lots of work today
No time to post
Time enough only to say
Lots of work today

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Tuesday, November 08, 2005

:) and coffee make the world go round

3-in-1 coffee is way stronger than Nescafe Gold Blend. I had a cup of Gold Roast Stronger Coffee this morning at home and the neurons are firing a thousand a minute. Connections are connecting as never connected before. (I am also as verbose as the long-necked mongoose who ate the alphabet.)

There is something about being here in this moment.

The office recently installed a security pass system that is incredibly anal. It is like being in secondary school all over again, with the purple nametags pinned over the school badge, but worse. No pass, no entry, nothing else to be said, even if the security guard sees me every day and knows for a fact that I work in this impregnable castle with photostating machines. They are so anal that they won't even let you out of the building without a pass before 4:30pm!

Needless to say, I've been quite sulky about it, now that I've to walk an extra five minutes in a large detour to get to my cubicle because they have closed off all unnecessary entrances for security purposes. I don't smile as much to the security guards in the morning when I'm rummaging through my bag to find the pass.

And then it struck me today, why in the world was I making the guards my enemies for? I remember one of my former bosses, a very approachable and jovial guy, and I can just imagine him joking with the guards and laughing at the passes together. That should be way to go about it. Laughter makes the medicine go down. (And sugar too, for that matter.)

And that is the thought for the day, thanks for tuning in.

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Monday, November 07, 2005

1.

The streets are always clean. The bushes grow wild in the hot tropical heat and early afternoon downpours, but they are always trimmed back judiciously by middle-aged women wearing large straw hats. Snip, snip, snipping away the excess, the leaves and flowers fall in rhythm with the latest gossip. “So-and-so’s daughter’s got a $5,000 a month job at a bank, but she never gives her mother any money,” they whisper loudly to each other in disbelief, and shake their heads and click their tongues.

Snip, snip, “ah, but did you hear of so-and-so’s son? He married a Vietnamese woman and now doesn’t even visit his family during Chinese New Year!” How terrible! What horrible luck! The gods must be punishing for something she has done, if not in this life, the previous, or the life before that. “It is better to be barren than to have ten unfilial sons,” they say and shake their heads some more.

There is never an idle moment for this industrious city state. It buzzes with snipping work -- this is how a country grows strong. Trees grow in straight rows here.

The children line up in straight two-by-twos. Early on, they are taught which finger is the “shush finger” and where their lips are, and how to place the finger vertical to the lips. Kids learn it quickly. But still they forget and talk anyway, until the teacher in exasperation brings out the masking tape, and suddenly, the child grows up.

I had never liked to talk anyway.

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Quick Links

"There's a lot of ickiness in the bible" - Jim. Go vote for the ickiest bible slaying here.

How did durian make it to the BBC list of top 50 foods to eat before you die? (thanks, daryl)

The physics of bras. (thanks, tinkertailor)

Marathon gadgets, anyone? (The lactic acid injection for the sole of your feet sounds way fishy though.)

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Sunday, November 06, 2005

An absolutely chillilific weekend

I cooked a huge pot of chilli this weekend. And for the first time in my life, I felt the allure of being a cook. It is in the eating! Nothing else! Dicing the onion made me cry, peeling the tomatoes was a pain, but it is all worth it when you can scoop for yourself a large bowl of chilli at the end of a long run.

Bragging aside, the chilli really rocked. It was everything I remembered it to be. Ground beef, onions, kidney beans with melted cheese and saltine crackers.. ah. I was in seventh heaven all weekend long. This was how I did it:

Ground beef
1 large onion
Garlic
Tomatoes
2 cans kidney beans
1 can tomato puree
Chilli padi
1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 teaspoons oregano
Pepper

1. Crush garlic and dice onion. Brown ground beef, onion and crushed garlic in a pan. Add crushed chilli padi and pepper. Turn off fire.

2. Peel tomatoes.

3. Put kidney beans (with water), tomato puree, tomatoes, cumin, oregano, beef (with onions etc.) into pressure cooker. Cook on low fire, stirring occasionally.

4. Scoop into small bowl, top with shredded cheese and saltine crackers. Eat.

Very fuss-free. I browned the beef and peeled the tomatoes the night before and in the morning, stuck everything in the slow cooker while I went for a long morning run. Unfortunately the slow cooker was not working so I had to cook it over the fire, but it didn't take too long. It is the perfect lunch after a run -- lots of protein and carbo -- perfect with a rented movie too. :)

Update: Eric says "No. Beans. In. Chili." and posts a link to the Chili Appreciation Society International (CASI) Official Rule Book, which is a hilarious document! Whaddaya say? Beans or no beans?

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Friday, November 04, 2005

Snatches of conversation

(I in blue, you in black)

"Birds eat with their heads tilted sideways."
"Really?"

"Yes. They eat with their heads sideways because of their beaks. If they put their heads down directly, they can't get much food. While if they tilt their heads, they can scoop it up like this."

(You illustrate by clamping your fingers together like a scissors)

"Like chopsticks!"
" Yes, like chopsticks. Don't you know the story?"

"What story?"
"The story of the wolf and the bird. There was a long jug of water and the bird laughed at the wolf because the wolf couldn't drink from it. The bird put its long beak in and drank happily. Then there was a plate of water and the wolf laughed at the bird because it couldn't drink from it. The wolf lowered its head and slurped up the water."

"What kind of story is that?"
"A fable lah! Except they tell it better and with a moral at the end."

"I've seen many birds drink from puddles..."
"Ah, but have you seen them drink from plates?"

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Thursday, November 03, 2005

Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Murakami

Another lovely public holiday. Finished the novel Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami today, on smudgi3’s recommendation. There wasn’t a boring moment in it, but how do I put it, it was a little too skewed and dark for my liking.

The book wasn’t so much about love and death as about dependency and suicide. The love stories in the novel did not capture my imagination as it did not rise above the emotional and sexual dependency the characters had for each other. The deaths in the novel were overwhelming suicides. True, Midori’s parents both die of tumours, but in a way, to Toru, the main character of the book, this is a peripheral event. When it comes down to it, it isn’t so much about love as it is about survival.

Nobody actually understood anyone else, it seemed like. Everyone was closed within themselves, all prototypes of Nagasawa, the ambitious playboy. I think the passage with Nagasawa, Toru and Hatsumi is pivotal in understanding who Toru is. Nagasawa says to Toru:

“But Wantanabe’s practically the same as me. He may be a nice guy, but deep down in his heart, he is incapable of loving anybody. There’s always some part of him somewhere that is wide awake and detached. He has that hunger that won’t go away.” (277)

In some ways, I think Nagasawa hit the nail on the head. Despite this novel being written in the first person with Toru as the narrator, the readers never really understand him. I was almost taken by surprise when he declared to Midori that he loved her and that he would always take care of her. Really? When did that happen?

But I suppose this sense of terrible isolation, even from your own self, was the point Murakami was trying to make. There is no redemption in this novel – only leaving behind the past and trudging towards the future. It is most depressing.

I wonder – is Japanese society really as bleak as Murakami painted?

(Sidenote: lovely food and lovely names though. Lots of miso soup and rice, and beautiful names like Naoko.)

(Read about the differences in Jay Rubin's and Alfred Birnbaum's translations here. It is actually quite different.)

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Wednesday, November 02, 2005

9 hr mutton curry / 3 day work week

Two public holidays this week -- Deepavali on Tuesday and Hari Raya Aidilfitri on Thursday, which means that this week is a three day work week for us. Deepavali is the Hindu festival of lights and Hari Raya Aidilfitri marks the end of a month of fasting for the Muslims. What a lark! Especially since I am not Hindu, Indian, Muslim or Malay, which means I have no obligations this festive period, unlike Chinese New Year or Christmas.

My large extended family met yesterday to celebrate my first uncle's birthday though, all thirty-odd of us in a small two-room HDB flat. It was great. First Aunt cooked mutton and potato curry for eight hours, birthday noodles, mushrooms and cauliflower, fish, buttered prawns, fried fish, pigs' organ soup, green bean paste and almond jelly, and we all took turns at the table that only sits six at one go. Dinner by rotation, I call it.

A smattering of languages could be heard all evening -- Hokkien, Cantonese, Chinese, and English -- testament of how much has changed within a few generations. It is amusing to watch my aunts and uncles learn English for the sake of the little ones at home. I used to get it rough from my aunts and uncles because I couldn't speak Hokkien very well; now, they've all softened up because of their grandchildren, learning to speak Chinese and English for them. The little ones, all nine of them, are ALL boys. What's up?

Every family left with a bag of birthday buns, those pink topped buns with almond paste inside. Yummy.

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