Oh my god! Quinsy changed her blog background design and right at the top, there are a couple of dandelions. Three white ones against a grey background, to be exact.
The falling seeds from the puffy dandelions is exactly the same image I keep seeing in my mind. It is interesting, because it had been some time I had really read my daily reads and today, I caught it.
I like that image of having dandelions blown apart by the wind. The perfect orb of seeds, ready to take flight and take root where and when they find fertile land. The orb will no longer keep its spherical integrity but it has done its job, whatever the reader takes the job to be.
I do, however, know why images of dandelions are dancing in my head recently. They are just there.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
I'd live in that garage!
Visited a friend. We got to know each other during the time I taught in SMU. We got along fine and we shared many stories about us. However, our schedules never let us sit down for a good chat much.
Last Saturday, he invited Victor and I to tea at his place. (Interesting that I had to write "Victor and I" because the English Language dictates that I must come in at the end of a conjoined list. But you get the drift.) He lived in the outskirts of Newton/Orchard. His house was built in 1927 on a plot of land at the top of a little hill.
There was a main house and a garage. He moved out of the house and lived in the garage after customizing it into a quaint little house. Quite honestly, I've been to the homes of rich people but this friend is so understated about so many things. I never knew how rich he is and I probably will never want to know. It is not in my place or interest.
To preserve my friend's privacy and to cut the long story short, I am given a little glimpse of what it feels like to live in the lap of luxury. Quite honestly, I bet many people wouldn't mind living in that garage. (Actually, he told me that his garage turned house was featured in an architectural magazine some time ago.)
There!
Last Saturday, he invited Victor and I to tea at his place. (Interesting that I had to write "Victor and I" because the English Language dictates that I must come in at the end of a conjoined list. But you get the drift.) He lived in the outskirts of Newton/Orchard. His house was built in 1927 on a plot of land at the top of a little hill.
There was a main house and a garage. He moved out of the house and lived in the garage after customizing it into a quaint little house. Quite honestly, I've been to the homes of rich people but this friend is so understated about so many things. I never knew how rich he is and I probably will never want to know. It is not in my place or interest.
To preserve my friend's privacy and to cut the long story short, I am given a little glimpse of what it feels like to live in the lap of luxury. Quite honestly, I bet many people wouldn't mind living in that garage. (Actually, he told me that his garage turned house was featured in an architectural magazine some time ago.)
There!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Sense of Time
Had expected a good end to an otherwise dour week.
The abyss the week began in gave way to semi-heaven as I battled work and then abdominal colic.
Had two crazy days of chasing and chasing after stuff that people owe me and then spent another two days clutching my stomach.
The pain was so bad that I had to go off work midway and make my way to my GP. There, I had to wait in line for 21 patients. My pain got from a 5 out of 10 to 8 out of 10. My long sleeved working shirt got wetter and wetter but I wasn't even feeling warm. It was the pain!
I guess the counter staff saw my misery and probably alerted the doctor. I did not want to tell them about my pain because the last time I tried telling them, I was told that if I could not wait my turn, then I ought to go to the Accident & Emergency Department.
Soon, one patient was not around when his/her number was called. And I was asked to go in instead. Had my jab and my two days' MC. Came home and crashed. Paying off a sleep debt never felt so good.
Then came yesterday. The private transport that I booked to drive me home came 10 minutes late. This is stupid because I delayed getting off work by 45 minutes and paid $5 (instead of the usual $2 thereabouts on public transport) to get home by 7 pm. Of course, by the time I got home, it was 7.15 pm. I am going to try this transport guy once more and if he does not show he is conscious of keeping time, then I might drop him.
In any case, there is this garrulous woman on the mini-van that yaks non-stop. Peace is only restored after she gets off - first, thank God! - at Casa Merah. But that was already more than half the journey done. But if I get driven to the doorstep, I am quite willing to tolerate her showing off and noise.
This transport thingy didn't take the cake.
I had an appointment last night for my hair treatment. I made an 8 pm appointment at 4 pm. As I rushed all the way down from home - no thanks to the stupid transport guy - at 7.42 pm, the hair treatment woman asked if I was ok to go in later, 8.30 pm instead. Ok, I told her.
I went for a quick dinner. The guy selling rice with vegetables was selling gold nuggets instead of vegetables. I hardly had a standard portion of anything!
At 8.10 pm, I stepped into the salon. Shaggy Bitch was there, not even started. So, she must have been the double-booker or the walk-in. Looking at the length of her hair, the treatment is not going to even end by 8.30 pm.
I was right. When the hair treatment lady was done with Shaggy, it was already 8.50 pm. Then instead of letting me begin, she got a waiting customer to wash off the henna on her head.
At 9.05 pm, I stood up and told her, I can't wait any more.
I will do that to her insistently from now on. Make an appointment and if I walk in and she's not ready for me, I will walk off. There is no point in making an appointment if she is not going to keep to her end of the bargain.
She is not running a subsidized medical care facility. At least for those, I am looking at a minimum 50% subsidy from the government. The doctors are beyond overworked and waiting for them while they tend to other more urgent patients and full paying patients is unavoidable. Hey, those people paying $1.05 for a pill while subsidized patients are probably paying $0.10.
Some people just need to be taught a sense of timing and business ethics.
The abyss the week began in gave way to semi-heaven as I battled work and then abdominal colic.
Had two crazy days of chasing and chasing after stuff that people owe me and then spent another two days clutching my stomach.
The pain was so bad that I had to go off work midway and make my way to my GP. There, I had to wait in line for 21 patients. My pain got from a 5 out of 10 to 8 out of 10. My long sleeved working shirt got wetter and wetter but I wasn't even feeling warm. It was the pain!
I guess the counter staff saw my misery and probably alerted the doctor. I did not want to tell them about my pain because the last time I tried telling them, I was told that if I could not wait my turn, then I ought to go to the Accident & Emergency Department.
Soon, one patient was not around when his/her number was called. And I was asked to go in instead. Had my jab and my two days' MC. Came home and crashed. Paying off a sleep debt never felt so good.
Then came yesterday. The private transport that I booked to drive me home came 10 minutes late. This is stupid because I delayed getting off work by 45 minutes and paid $5 (instead of the usual $2 thereabouts on public transport) to get home by 7 pm. Of course, by the time I got home, it was 7.15 pm. I am going to try this transport guy once more and if he does not show he is conscious of keeping time, then I might drop him.
In any case, there is this garrulous woman on the mini-van that yaks non-stop. Peace is only restored after she gets off - first, thank God! - at Casa Merah. But that was already more than half the journey done. But if I get driven to the doorstep, I am quite willing to tolerate her showing off and noise.
This transport thingy didn't take the cake.
I had an appointment last night for my hair treatment. I made an 8 pm appointment at 4 pm. As I rushed all the way down from home - no thanks to the stupid transport guy - at 7.42 pm, the hair treatment woman asked if I was ok to go in later, 8.30 pm instead. Ok, I told her.
I went for a quick dinner. The guy selling rice with vegetables was selling gold nuggets instead of vegetables. I hardly had a standard portion of anything!
At 8.10 pm, I stepped into the salon. Shaggy Bitch was there, not even started. So, she must have been the double-booker or the walk-in. Looking at the length of her hair, the treatment is not going to even end by 8.30 pm.
I was right. When the hair treatment lady was done with Shaggy, it was already 8.50 pm. Then instead of letting me begin, she got a waiting customer to wash off the henna on her head.
At 9.05 pm, I stood up and told her, I can't wait any more.
I will do that to her insistently from now on. Make an appointment and if I walk in and she's not ready for me, I will walk off. There is no point in making an appointment if she is not going to keep to her end of the bargain.
She is not running a subsidized medical care facility. At least for those, I am looking at a minimum 50% subsidy from the government. The doctors are beyond overworked and waiting for them while they tend to other more urgent patients and full paying patients is unavoidable. Hey, those people paying $1.05 for a pill while subsidized patients are probably paying $0.10.
Some people just need to be taught a sense of timing and business ethics.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Death rites...
and death wrongs.
Spotted: Half opened offerings to the ancestors
Explanation: If the dead ancestors want to eat, they can use their "super powers" to get to the food. The flies (or imaginary flies) will eat up all the offerings otherwise.
Spotted: Burning joss paper offerings in little stacks of 5 pieces or so
Explanation: The living folk needs a free face toast from the stash of burning joss papers. And the dead ancestor cannot pick up the burnt offerings fast enough if one burns too many pieces at one go.
Sometimes, I just wonder why they can't let go already!
Spotted: Half opened offerings to the ancestors
Explanation: If the dead ancestors want to eat, they can use their "super powers" to get to the food. The flies (or imaginary flies) will eat up all the offerings otherwise.
Spotted: Burning joss paper offerings in little stacks of 5 pieces or so
Explanation: The living folk needs a free face toast from the stash of burning joss papers. And the dead ancestor cannot pick up the burnt offerings fast enough if one burns too many pieces at one go.
Sometimes, I just wonder why they can't let go already!
Monday, August 09, 2010
Free Lunches
It was a North Indian buffet lunch with a twist.
Food would be delivered to the tables instead of diners having to help themselves from the common food display.
The spiced papadoms came. Spicy!
The sutchi fillet curry, the mung bean dhal, and the pureed spinach with chickpeas came. So did the bryani rice and a stack of quartered naans.
Then something that was terribly burnt arrived at the table - chicken tikka. I rejected the dish. No way would I accept something so burnt. There were enough charred bits for me to discard every single piece of chicken without a second look.
The waiter insisted that the dish is supposed to be burnt. Hello... I'm Chinese but this is not my first Indian meal! I asked for tandoori chicken. The waiter said my dish was "normal." I queried him why the rest of the tables get tandoori chicken while we get burnt chicken tikka. So he said he'll bring the tandoori chicken.
A millennium later, the tandoori chicken came. The first piece I took was more than half uncooked. I'm ok with slight undercooking but uncooked. I rejected the dish. The waiter did not protest this time, since he saw the condition of the food.
Then lamb shish kebab came. Not the best but it was meat. Then I wanted my tandoori chicken. What is a North Indian meal without tandoori chicken?
Yet, two millennia later, another dish of chicken tikka appeared. I rejected the dish, saying that it wasn't what I ordered. I want my tandoori chicken. Alas, it was out. The kitchen ran out of it.
Fine, what about dessert? I wanted dessert to round off the meal.
We have gulab jamun and assorted ice cream. I was told. I asked to have both and the waiter noted the order.
The gulab jamun came, burnt to the core. The ice cream was ok.
Bill time. I called one of the non-uniformed guys and asked if he was the boss. He said he was a partner. So I told him about my meal and told him that if his restaurant went under, he has his wait staff and his kitchen to thank.
He was apologetic. I was measured and courteous.
We got a free meal. There are free lunches after all. All you have to do is to be at the right place at the right time.
Food would be delivered to the tables instead of diners having to help themselves from the common food display.
The spiced papadoms came. Spicy!
The sutchi fillet curry, the mung bean dhal, and the pureed spinach with chickpeas came. So did the bryani rice and a stack of quartered naans.
Then something that was terribly burnt arrived at the table - chicken tikka. I rejected the dish. No way would I accept something so burnt. There were enough charred bits for me to discard every single piece of chicken without a second look.
The waiter insisted that the dish is supposed to be burnt. Hello... I'm Chinese but this is not my first Indian meal! I asked for tandoori chicken. The waiter said my dish was "normal." I queried him why the rest of the tables get tandoori chicken while we get burnt chicken tikka. So he said he'll bring the tandoori chicken.
A millennium later, the tandoori chicken came. The first piece I took was more than half uncooked. I'm ok with slight undercooking but uncooked. I rejected the dish. The waiter did not protest this time, since he saw the condition of the food.
Then lamb shish kebab came. Not the best but it was meat. Then I wanted my tandoori chicken. What is a North Indian meal without tandoori chicken?
Yet, two millennia later, another dish of chicken tikka appeared. I rejected the dish, saying that it wasn't what I ordered. I want my tandoori chicken. Alas, it was out. The kitchen ran out of it.
Fine, what about dessert? I wanted dessert to round off the meal.
We have gulab jamun and assorted ice cream. I was told. I asked to have both and the waiter noted the order.
The gulab jamun came, burnt to the core. The ice cream was ok.
Bill time. I called one of the non-uniformed guys and asked if he was the boss. He said he was a partner. So I told him about my meal and told him that if his restaurant went under, he has his wait staff and his kitchen to thank.
He was apologetic. I was measured and courteous.
We got a free meal. There are free lunches after all. All you have to do is to be at the right place at the right time.
Completing the Squares
There are some things that are hard to square, just like quadratic expressions. But I think I have some of them figured out.
For starters, why do smokers exercise? My explanation is that the exercise strengthens their lung functions and enhance their capacities, and help them absorb the deadly chemicals in the cigarettes better.
Why do people not wash their hands after using the toilet, especially before a meal in some eating place? The food they've ordered are too bland and they could do with additional spices.
Why do people not move to the back of a bus or the middle of the train? That part of the vehicle is not going to where they are going.
Why do people not understand that they should avoid smoking before serving a customer? Good service should not include making me share the stinking air your exhale.
Why do people not shower in the morning, even though they stink? Deodorant is too expensive. In any case, their bodies are already producing environmentally friendly, green "fragrance".
Why do people not add enough washing detergent to their laundry? They want their "eau de naturale" to keep their clothes perfumed.
Why do people not think that maintaining quiet is necessary in public? They are hard of hearing.
This list can go on. And perhaps this way, I just have to secretly despise some people without overtly getting more pissed with the rest of them.
For starters, why do smokers exercise? My explanation is that the exercise strengthens their lung functions and enhance their capacities, and help them absorb the deadly chemicals in the cigarettes better.
Why do people not wash their hands after using the toilet, especially before a meal in some eating place? The food they've ordered are too bland and they could do with additional spices.
Why do people not move to the back of a bus or the middle of the train? That part of the vehicle is not going to where they are going.
Why do people not understand that they should avoid smoking before serving a customer? Good service should not include making me share the stinking air your exhale.
Why do people not shower in the morning, even though they stink? Deodorant is too expensive. In any case, their bodies are already producing environmentally friendly, green "fragrance".
Why do people not add enough washing detergent to their laundry? They want their "eau de naturale" to keep their clothes perfumed.
Why do people not think that maintaining quiet is necessary in public? They are hard of hearing.
This list can go on. And perhaps this way, I just have to secretly despise some people without overtly getting more pissed with the rest of them.
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