blogging via email via my mobile phone

I feel so high tech.

---- ?Sent using a Sony Ericsson mobile phone

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Twenty-nine obtuse angles

It was a dream, let me say that first,
A dream of twenty-nine obtuse angles.
__weird,
____nonsensical,
______the kind of dream where philosophers and physicists
furrow their brows together and mumble,
"No logic! No logic!" and hobble away
to the next mathematical problem
that exemplifies the universality
__of
the Pythagoras Theorem.

It was a dream, with a girl.
A girl with a cat and red golden curls.
A girl in love with a girl in love with a boy,
Who, remarkably, loved the girl, the girl
with the cat and the red golden curls.

So round and round the love letters went
__dear girl >
____dear boy >
______dear girl, you with the cat and the red golden curls >
____dear girl >
__dear boy >
Until the girl threw up her hands and kissed the boy,
and spurned the girl with the cat
and the red golden curls.

So she bought a house with a room with a view
and sat on her rocking chair and fell asleep
and dreamed this dream nonsensical,
about a girl with a cat and the red golden curls.

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The post on the tax increase

I have been trying not to gripe about the increase in the GST (Goods and Services Tax) from 5% to 7% since Tuesday. But not griping here in this blog means that I talk incessantly about the tax increase to my friends, which isn't very pleasant for them, because they can't walk away from me in mid-conversation without offending me, while you can easily do so with absolutely no consequences. Just click on that little "x" button. :)

Just so that I can be a better dinner companion, I'm going to have to say what I have to say here:

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO 6%?? and

WHAT KIND OF A BULL EXCUSE IS IT TO SAY THAT YOU ARE RAISING TAXES TO HELP THE POOR??

Okay, I feel better now.

The GST is the kind of tax that pinches the lower-income more than the higher. For example, you buy rice, oil, meat, vegetables, fruits, detergent, and other daily necessities from your local grocery store and your bill comes up to $100. When the GST goes up to 7%, you will pay $7 in taxes. If you earn $1000, $7 is 0.7% of your income. If you earn $10,000, and you buy that same bag of groceries, you pay a GST that is only 0.07% of your income.

So it is a little ironical to say that we are implementing this tax to help the lower income, is it not?

Of course the scenario above is too idealistic. In the real world, those with more money usually spend more and hence are taxed more. Also, there is the income tax which taxes the higher income earners more than the low -- ironically, the government wants to lower the income tax percentage for the highest income earners in the bid to attract more business to our sunny island state, hence skewing it against the poor that little bit more.

On the whole, we have low taxes and a good government that gives back to her people through spending in infrastructure, education, etc. So it is not like I'm pretending that I know how to run this place better. Just be more frank with us, can? And whatever happened to 6%?

(Some ideas I have: make certain necessities such as plain rice, salt, white bread, water GST-exempt. Actually, come to think about it, that is the only idea I have.)

Technorati Tags: GST

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Don't stick your chopsticks in your rice like that

At the dinner table, the little boy got tired of eating. He complained loudly, "Every day eat rice, vegetables, meat; rice, vegetables, meat.. Why can't we have pizza and california roll like my friend John? His maid comes to school with a lunch box and every day it is something different.."

His grandmother looked at him kindly and said, "Ah boy, you are very lucky already. Last time we only got to eat chicken once a year during Chinese New Year. Now you can have chicken every day. You must count your blessings!"

The little boy wasn't convinced and stuck his chopsticks straight into his bowl of rice.



A look of pain passed through grandma's eyes. She said softly, "Ah boy, don't stick your chopsticks in your rice like that."

The little boy opened his mouth to continue complaining when he noticed his gramdmother's face. So he quickly shut his mouth and took out the chopsticks, and ate his rice quietly.



After a few minutes, his grandmother explained, "Ah boy, you're a good boy. Maybe when you get to my age you'll understand why I asked you to take out the chopsticks, or maybe not. The older you get, the more you remember, and it becomes easier for ordinary things to trigger images of pain, grief and superstition. Do you know what I mean?"

The little boy had no clue what his grandmother was going on about, but he nodded his head respectfully, and ate his rice, like his mother, his mother's mother, and his mother's mother's mother...

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ITB Anonymous: Session III

Hi, my name is Ms. Nomer and I have an ITB problem.

I went for my first swim last weekend, the day after a 21km (achey) long run. The water in the public pool tasted somewhat salty... very gross! But I was determined to swim and so struggled through ten laps anyway. Have I mentioned that I don't like swimming?

In other news for fellow-sufferers, I have discovered a new ITB strengthening exercise. I call it the kungfu stance.



What you have to do is to place your feet far apart (facing outwards) and bend your knees to 90 degrees. Then stand up slowly, without locking your knees. Do 15-20 reps per day, followed with ITB stretching. Do this before AND after your runs to keep your ITB flexible.

I am almost at my wits' end since nothing I'm trying seems to be working. But after talking to a friend who is trained in this area, I'm somewhat cheered with the discovery of the "kungfu stance", the success of swimming ten laps, and the possibility that insoles may help my problem.

If all else fails, will someone please wait for me at the 30km with a pair of crutches? Thanks.

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Possibly the best Tom Yam Soup

you can find in Singapore is at Tyrwhitt Road.

The soup is spicy with the slightest tinge of sweet. The broth is somewhat milky -- it isn't one of those clear watery soups with bits of chili floating on the top -- and it fills a belly in a wholly satisfying way.

For $3.30, you get two prawns, two pieces of silken soft tofu, one large piece of fried fish, and many pieces of fresh fish and mushrooms. The whole thing is topped with succulent onions and lime leaves that gives the dish that extra bit of oomph.



Alternating between spoonfuls of soup, large mouthfuls of steamed rice, and nibbly bites of ngoh hiang (fried meat roll), there was no room for conversation.

Be warned, this soup will make you want to come back for more. But as with all good things, it is not easy to get. The location is practically inaccessible by public transport, and the stall is open only between 10:30am and 4:30pm (closed on Sundays).

Northern Thai Restaurant
1 Tyrwhitt Road (S) 207522
10:30am - 4:30pm (closed on Sundays)

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The twists and turns of Ms. Nomer's brain

Scene 1:

Ms. Nomer at the bookstore.  There are two copies of the title she wants, both shrink wrapped.  She chooses one over the other because the other has a small hole in the shrink wrap.

Two hours later, Ms. Nomer in bed at home, struggling with the shrink wrap.  She thinks: "I don't want to get up to get the scissors.  Where is the hole in this blasted shrink wrap!?"

Scene 2:

2am.  Ms. Nomer is thirsty.  She walks groggy-eyed to the kitchen and is horrified to find a cockroach in the sink.  She sprays insecticide over the poor bugger, and watches impassively as it goes into spasms.

Twelve hours later.  Late afternoon.  Ms. Nomer goes to the kitchen with a dirty cup to wash and refill with water.  Without thinking, she walks past the kitchen sink to the face sink .  By the time she realises where and what she is doing, she is washing her cup in the porcelain face sink.

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Running with the Australian bush fly

Spring last week in Wombarra, Australia was more the kind of spring that came with cold gusty winds and chilling spring rains rather than the sweet, sunny, flowery types of spring that inspires a person to lie on the grass and read a book. All the grass was wet. And it was too cold to stay still in any one spot.

But I put on my little sleeveless top and red running shorts and headed out of the door for a run anyway, figuring that I would soon warm up. I shivered a little to begin with but after 5 minutes, the bracing cold actually felt way better than the suffocating humidity back home. So I went merrily along my way, until I realised that I had stalkers: fat Australian bush flies that flew as fast as I ran and buzzed about my head with dizzy joy every time I paused to stretch or to look at the view. They drove me crazy! I looked like a crazy woman doing a crazy dance by the side of the road as I tried to keep the flies and their entire extended families from landing on my face. I was a cow with multiple swinging tails.

How do the flies thrive in this cold anyway?

I was curious about what the flies were attracted to: was it my body heat? Or something else? So I looked it up when I got home and found out something more ghastly than I could imagine. The flies were looking for protein. Female flies need protein for the development of their ovaries, and they get it from my tears, saliva, sweat, the mucus in your nose and blood if I have an open wound. They are hanging about hoping that I would decide to make a nice warm lump of dung for them to lay their eggs in. Yuck!

This would explain why some of the guys had something in the region of 50 flies just hanging out on the backs of their shirts whenever they stopped moving. A friend said that the flies were attracted to certain colours more than others, but now I know better... these "attractive guys" are just sweatier!

It started raining when I was running back to the beach house. Really cold spitting rain, not like the tropical thunderstorms back home where it rains bucketfuls of warm-ish water. I was glad for it anyway, even though it was horridly cold, because it meant that the flies finally left me alone...

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7am

About to go for a semi-long run. Scared like anything.

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1am

I am back from the wedding dinner. It is 1am. I have a towel on my head. I vaguely remember that I have to wake up early tomorrow to try to do a long run, but it seems very far away, and I doubt I can fall asleep.

My friend Hm is married. Gosh, I'm not sure if I want to laugh or to cry. I think I may want a drink.

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Stories

I am all about stories.  Stories that capture something quintessentially fleeting but stoically true.

A girl in her early twenties running to catch golden leaves fallling from the trees.

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My friend Hm

My friend Hm got married last week. It was supposed to be an outdoor spring wedding at a resort overlooking a magnificent beach front, but it rained: freezing cold rain drops coupled with a gusty wind that chilled your bones. But it didn't really matter anyway, since the atrium it was held in had magnificent ceiling-to-floor windows and hard wood floors that boosted the natural acoustics. With everyone crowded into the small space, it felt cozy, inclusive and intimate.

And besides, who cares about the view when every eye is on the bride? She was radiant -- happy like a child, not at all conscious of herself, enjoying every moment, and unbelievably gorgeous. After the dinner, the bride and the groom opened the dance floor with a beautifully executed Latin dance. Because the groom looked so serious and deadpan (I think he was concentrating very hard on his steps!), it was the perfect foil to his partner's natural charm and flamboyance. She's hot stuff!

(More later. Now have to work.)

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My friends bring out the sotong in me

When I was in school, one of my nicknames was "sotong", the name for cuttlefish in Malay. Sotong is synonymous with not being on the ball, hence the saying, "blur as sotong". In fact, when they drew a caricature of me in school, they put a prominent question mark on top of my head to emphasize my sotong-ness.

Hanging out with my school friends this last week brought it out in me again. It is interesting how different people bring out different aspects of your personality because I've almost forgotten how blur I actually am. When I am at work and with colleagues, they think I am the model of efficiency and fountain of information. When I am on holiday with Smole, we fight about who gets to read the map and figure out what's going on. When I am with my old school friends, suddenly I become a true blue blur sotong.

And the sotong-ness has carried over somewhat because I am still out of it. I threw out my contacts solution with the contacts still in them twice this week -- once into the toilet and once out of the window; I spilled tea all over myself and the carpet and the chair yesterday; I even flopped magnificently at boiling hard boiled eggs! What's up???

I have a theory. Just as in the Taoist concept of yin and yang, where opposites complement and bring out the best in each other, I am blur because my old school friends are so remarkably talented, and that eliminates any kind of female rivalry, and so we can get along and be good buddies. That's my theory anyway. ;)

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Peripheral thoughts

Touched down 3:55am. Home 4:45am. At work 8:45am.

A bit zonked and woozey in the head, but every so often, an image from the events of the past week will barge into the brain, and I will space out, tear up, or smile to myself.

Why is it that every time I come back to Singapore, it feels stuffier, hotter, muggier, noisier, messier, and more chaotic that what I remembered it to be? How did I manage to pin my heart down to this little muggy island when I first came home from overseas? Maybe it is this:

Return train ticket from city to airport:
Singapore SGD 3.40
Sydney AUD 17.50

I am full of wanderlust. I desperately want my own place.

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Live from Sydney Airport

I've realised that I've become accustomed to being at two places at
any one time. I am used to sitting at my office or home desk and
simultaneously occupying a particular space on the internet, a space
that is criss-crossed by a blogger, MSN, and email address.

So I am internet deprived. I feel like I am missing my siamese twin.

But I had a special week that I would not substitute a year's worth of
free internet access for, and I will tell you more about it when I get
home.

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