Need to put a lot of things on hold

Since my decision to quit, I am going to have to put a lot of things on hold. I had wanted to buy me-self a bicycle but now, looks like I would have to wait a little longer.

I had planned to go for quite a few overseas trips, but now it looks like I can only go for one: the one to Sydney whereby I meet my schoolmates from SHMS.

I then have to move back home to stay with my parents and cannot stay out on my own anymore as my meagre salary will not allow me to have that kind of lifestyle. This is the saddest thing coz I DO like my rented place, but I also do know that I have to be practical.

Well, if all these are going to help me save, then I just have to do it. No choice. I am just hoping for the day when I can am able to buy my own property and then be free again!

Just did it!

No, it is not what you think and it is not R-rated.

I just submitted my resignation via the system. In other words, what's left for me to do is to hand in the hard copy when I am ready and then I will be a free person. I will be giving up a lot of things. Here is a list:

1) My 21-day leave scheme (which I think is non-existent nowadays. Young ones that come in only get 14 or 18 days).

2) My whole range of benefits

3) My not so high but considerably average income.

4) My permanent job as all newbies come in as contractual staff so next time if I ever want to re-join, I would be a contract staff.

5) My borrowing privileges (which was cut down from 40 to 20 books, so really, I am not going to miss it that much)

6) Last but not least, my colleagues, good and bad. I have made some fast friends here and even though I am going to continue as a part-timer, I think everything's going to change.

Bad dream

As usual, bad dreams occur in the wee hours of the morning and I find them quite stress related. This morning, in my dream, I kept worrying about my class visits (schools sending their students to the library) and in my dream, I kept repeating the same scene.

I was in the programme zone (where the session was going to be held) preparing for the visits, checking that everything was in working order. While I was checking though, I kept asking this other colleague or staff whether they were sure that I only had one class visit. I was grasping both their arms asking, "Are you sure? Are you sure?"

I was in panic mode in the dream and walking to and from the programme zone. The worst part was, in my dream, I knew that I was in panic mode and yet, I could not wake myself up and the panic feeling and the panic questions. It was like while I was in a panic in the dream, I could still see myself as third person, but this time around, I could not stop myself.

Usually when such dreams happen, I am able to use third person's point of view to wake myself up. This time, I could not.

The nightmare was finally over but I woke up with aching jaws and clenched fists. I was so tensed up.

Well, it is about time that I take a rest and even if I had to conduct class visits when I become part-time, at least I know I will have all the time to prepare and I do not have to f*&cking worry about manpower and getting bl*@dy region support. I will be the one going in to support them and they are the ones telling me where to go. Saves me all that explanation.

Feeling so tired now...going to get my well-deserved sleep.

p/s: I mean saturday morning when I had the bad dream. Didn't realise that the time was past 12 midnight when I posted this.

Sad that I will be leaving

As the days past, I get more doubtful and sadder that I will soon be an outsider of the library and may no longer be called a Librarian.

Actually, it is not going to make much difference though, for the new naming norm for people like me who do not have a Masters in Library Science is "Associate Librarian". That in itself sounds like some vile tasting concoction that I find difficult to stomach. I find it a little derogatory.

Nevertheless, the organisation wants to move us towards a more professional career path and I can kind of see why they are making everyone qualified. I said this many times before and I still see it this way: I feel that I would not want to take a local degree and while it is good that they sponsor us to do the Masters programme, I do not want to be tied down. I do not want to be bonded. Just not the sort to be.

All around me, concerned friends and colleagues alike, have asked about the big pay cut if I were to become a part-timer. That really got me thinking again, but I think I would rather have my physical and mental health rather than to have to suffer this way.

Let's see how long I will be sad for and while there is this sadness about me, I am still very much looking forward to taking on new challenges.

Union Member

Did I not say that NTUC is into everything and anything under the sun? I just joined to become their union member. Given normal circumstances, I would not, but since I am able to get some discounts for school fees and such, I will just sign away!

I was already planning to go and sign up when I saw their roadshow at the Tampines MRT. I have never believed in union membership and I thought (and still think) NTUC is quite...heartland (Low class lah). Yes, I am a bit of a snob but I feel that I am entitled to be one. It is not as if by me being a snob that I would hurt anyone, and so I will continue to be a half-snob.

I would have to live frugally from now on and so I might as well learn to be thrifty, minus the lack of taste. I mean, one can still live a simple life and yet be a little classy. OK, that was my vanity speaking. Well, some of the benefits offered by the Union are good while the others, I am just going to ignore.

Other than the study grants that they give up, I really am not so supported of the union. Simply because the unions here can do nothing much for us a employees. They are in place for show, to tell people and the world out there "Don't say we do not have a union", but I have not seen them win great 'battles' for employees.

I am not endorsing strikes either (which, by the way, is illegal here in the little island of Singapore). I think strikes diminished productivity and while this might get the workers somewhere, in the end, it may be a lose-lose situation.

Secondly is that with my salary bracket, I actually do not warrant much representation from the union. I am pretty much left on my own. I have read with interest, however, that we are partially represented now. How sweet of them.

If you do want to see what is "having too much on one plate", you could click here. I had much trouble navigating the website. I felt I was brought for a round-about ride and yet, still could not really find the answers I needed.

Nevertheless, as long as I get my study grants and subsidies, I am OK.

Working life can be cruel

I have not even stepped out of the organisation and my supe is already talking about quickly getting a replacement from the recruitment drive.

Told me today that I could put up request for resignation online already, so that they can put up request for new recruits for the next recruitment drive that is going to happen in April. Talk about being empathetic and understanding bosses.

I am giving my supe the benefit of doubt too as it is not everyday that people resign and therefore, they don't get to tell this to exiting staff a lot. Probably does not really know how to put it across. Well, this makes me even more determined to get out and find 'greener pastures'.

I am just wondering whether there will be as many regrets as I thought I would have before. I think the only people I will miss will be the very small handful that really matters to me.

Anyway, would not miss much coz I WILL be coming back to work as a part-timer.

Got my hair done

Was on my to my hairdresser's at Tampines Mall when I got a shock!

The shop is all hoarded up for renovations! Have they moved for good? My oh my!!! I walked closer to take a look for I was quite sure that the staff sounded very normal the other day and did not tell me anything about moving out.

I HAD TO HAVE MY HAIR TRIMMED. I gave them a call and asked them whether they have re-located to the One Salon (a subsidiary under them) at Century Square next door. The person on the other end of the phone-line gave me a positive reply.

Turns out that they are doing some renovations to the shop and will only move back to Tampines Mall in April. Phew! I really am a creature of habit and I really don't like to be moving from one place of familiarity to another that I am not familiar with.

Nevertheless, still got my same old hairdresser to get my hair trimmed and managed to squeeze in hair treatment too. The colouring and highlighting would have to wait though. If not it will take me another 2 to 3 hours, which I cannot afford.

My hair!

Well, it has been donkey months (in terms of hairdresser's calendar) since I have done anything to my hair. My hairdresser is so going to kill me! No, he is still very nice coz he knows I give him repeat business.

Taking half a day off to go do something about that limp mop, since I remembered the wrong timing for my meeting. It is not till this afternoon that I will be back in office with my new hairdo.

Ciao!

Jurassic Park in my house

Two nights ago. I came home to two cats becoming the owners of the house. One was sitting on the sofa quietly (Dou Dou) and the other came to greet me at the door. THEY DID IT! They managed to open the door and they were roaming freely around the house for goodness knows how long!

I went to check all the rooms and toilets. No paw prints on my bed and everything was intact. The last time he sneaked into my bedroom while my housemate mopped the floor, Mao Mao had left his mark on my bedsheets.

Alas! When I went into my bathroom, my tea lights were all over the floor. Luckily, nothing was broken. Just that it was such a mess. That night, my housemate and I decided to do the inevitable: we hooked up two handles of the doors with a string and stuck the cats' end of the door handle with sticky tape so that the ribbon would not slip off. There was no chance of them escaping out of the room now, except that we would have to 'play' zero-point and go under the ribbon every time we pass through that passage way.

My housemate saw it for the first time, how the handle is being tampered with by the cats and she felt that it was eerie for it did look like a human being was trying to open the door.

Of course, the cats did not know what we did and we went to sleep after that. Thinking that they could still 'escape', there were attempts to open the door throughout the night. As the night went by though, I could hear that the cat (specifically Mao Mao) came to this realisation that he was permanently locked in; that he could no longer open the door. I could hear his frustration in his attempts. He was getting more pissed with every failed attempt. You see, I had one too many coffees that day and was having what I call shallow sleep. I got easily woken by noises that night.

I was also quite worried about what the downstairs and perhaps the upstairs neighbours would think, when they hear all these noises in the middle of the night. They might think that we have kidnapped someone! I drifted into a slightly deeper sleep after that.

Oh yes, why did I say that my house was like a Jurassic Park. The cats would slam themselves against the door causing the walls to shake and you know that scene where the T-rex was breathing heavily behind the door before he opened it? It certainly did feel like that when these slamming sounds come in bouts.

Well, I exaggerate a little about the walls but the doors to shake and in the dead of the night, it can be quite startling.

I think they are resigned to their fate now for they no longer meow so loudly and persistently, insisting that we let them out. When the time comes, we do let them out of the room to roam. It is just that when there is little or no supervision, Mao can perform a Hurricane Katrina within the house.

Cycling and cyclists

Did not feel like posting anything yesterday although there were lots to post about.

I went to discuss the 'future' of my so-called career, my car almost got knocked from the back, the cats play Jurassic Park with me, but I was too tired to post. Until now.

Quite ready to make my exit from work but I am going to continue as a part-timer. The money is going to be way, way less than what I am earning now but I am trying to psycho myself to think that at least, there is some money coming in while I become the poor student.

Was msn-ing a friend last night and she sent me an MP3 file to sample some music. Now I do see it. I used to think that one has to buy original CDs and albums. I am a self-proclaimed advocator of respectiing intellectual property, but now that I am going to earn much less, I think that downloading from another friend's disc seems like a good idea now. Either that, or I will just have to make do with less...and listen more to mainstream radio.

After work, I gave my colleague a lift back to her place as we were given huge bags of organic food. This was all under the healthy living initiative done by our HR team. We get lots of goodies at the end of each FY. Suits me and my mum. She always feels that my company is good in that way. It is, but still, other aspects make me so tired that I want to say sayonara.

I stopped my car at a traffic junction when I heard tyre screeching and a horn and something slammed down on the road. I looked into my rear mirror and saw this motorbike just at the right hand side of my car boot and I wandered in bewilderment as to whether it would smash into my car. My stupid natural reaction was to give him two hoots on my car horn. This is really silly coz it looked like I was horning the car in front of me when I am not. Well, not really anyway, the horn could have acted as a signal for the car to move in front a little, but that silly small car just stayed put and I could see the driver waving his hands and probably telling his friend in the car that people nowadays horn for no rhyme or reason.

I did not see what had happened but my very good guess is that the motorbike was weaving in and out of traffic, trying to get to the start of the traffic lights. The other vehicle, which was a bicycle (that smashed to the ground) was probably thinking that he was King of the Road and the whole world must give way to him. For the position of his bicycle looked like he was going to cross the road at the entrance to an HDB car park.

As a driver, I side the motorcyclist. I respect all cyclists and all but only to those who are also mindful to traffic rules. In these parts of the island where we call heartlands (Bedok lah!), the 'Ah Peks' really think it is their grandfather's roads. Some have bicycles that are way too small for them to ride and they end up wobbling; weaving in and out in the middle of nowhere on the main roads.

There are those who ring their bells in a very rude manner (Haha Livvie! As if there was ever a polite way of ringing a bicycle bell!). Oh! And when they cycle pass you, give you the glare and stare that they feel can kill you. It does not kill me. It just makes me feel more contemptious towards them.

Then there are those who squeeze past you no matter what or whiz past and make you feel like you are going to lose balance. They seem to forget that it is a padestrian walkway that they are using and they should be more mindful of people (not trying to discriminate but sometimes they are just too much).

All this of course, is from the perspective of a padestrian. This morning, I was driving my car yet again and was quite pissed with this stupid cyclist. He was obviously a foreign worker, probably from Sri Lanka. I could have turned out from the car park as the coast was clear, except that he was cycling towards my direction and I should give way to him. But our dear friend was either awe-struck by my car or there must be gold on my face that he decided to ride real slow. In fact, he slowed down and I had half a mind to go down and whack him up. Did another Ally McBeal (mentally whacked him up but not really doing it) while waiting for him to pass my junction.

Back to the minor accident. My colleague in my car was so shaken by the whole thing coz she had ever seen a neighbour knocked down by a lorry and died on the spot. Not really witnessed it but she heard a loud bang and when she looked down from her block of flats, there was the old man lying there, lifeless. What was worse was that the lorry driver was also staying in the same neighbourhood. She had heard and seen too many 'horror' stories about cyclists that she has second thoughts about being one herself.

Well, for those who are my cycling friends, do take care if you are on the roads ok? Have a nice day!

To toast or not to toast

Haiz, I am contemplating whether or not to buy a toaster. Went to see the different models after work and almost went crazy as there were so many to choose from.

From toaster, I 'graduated' to toaster oven and from about $30 for a toaster, it went up to about $70 for a toaster oven with temperature controls.

In the end, decided not to buy it...yet. Have to think of where to put if I were to move back home. Haiz...decisions, decisions. Meanwhile, I can only dream of the fajitas and toasted bread that I so long to have....Yum!

Cold storage Vs NTUC Fairprice

Cold storage and NTUC Fairprice (or NTUC for short) are both supermarkets. One traditionally caters to the slightly higher income group or foreigners while the other wreaks local flavour with value for money stuff. Why I say so is because the former has been seen as the more expensive supermarket with more foods from European countries while the latter has a lot more local and cheaper produce.

Since young, I have been expose to both, although I must say, I was more familiar with Cold Storage and Fitzpatrick Supermarket. NTUC, to me, came a little later in my childhood. I have always preferred Cold Storage to NTUC and you can call me a snob and all that. I still insist on my choice.

For one, I feel that the vegetables that they sell are fresher. NTUC food produce do not seem to last as long. I may be wrong but I am just speaking from personal experience.

For seconds, Cold Storage was the one with fresher meats and their staff where very knowledgeable about the different cuts of meat. You see, their target customers are the Caucasians,the expats and such, who want their strip loin and bacon cut perfectly well.

For thirds, I feel that Cold Storage has always had better customer service.

Why do I say so? Let me recount: On Sunday, I had half a loaf of bread left and was craving for ham. There used to be a Cold Storage near my place but seems that this is not so anymore. Left with no choice, I went to NTUC to get my meats.

I told the lady I wanted 200g of carrot roll (ham with bits of carrot in it. For those of us who are lazy on vege) and 200g of peppercorn ham. When she passed me the packet of carrot roll, it was stated 224g. I was not too happy but just took it (I will tell you why in a while).

When she passed me my peppercorn ham, I knew that had to be about only about 100g. It was too light to be 200g. True enough, it was about 126g. I then told her I wanted 200g and not 100g. Her reply in Mandarin was, "Not 100g meh?" (Rudeness number 1).

Then I told her that I wanted exact weight, no more no less (I was testing her). Her reply was, " There is no such thing as exact weight one lah. Confirm overweight one." (Rudeness number 2).

This made me boiling mad. If it were Cold Storage, this would never have happened. The staff would have asked if I had wanted a thin cut or thick cut and when it s all weighed out, she would let me know if it is over or under 200g and asked me if it was ok. They have always been like that since I was young. They would always let us know if it is a bit over and if we minded, they would remove some slices and let us know that it is a little under what we asked for.

Well, the staff at NTUC might as well have announced before talking that "this is the heartland auntie talking". It is one thing to be housewifey and all that to get to the hearts of your customers but it is another if you do not have basic knowledge of customer service.

When I reached home, I got even more pissed as I took one piece to try (was really hungry and craving for ham). The slice is so thick that in the end, I do not get many pieces out of my 200g. I guess you could also say that I am creature of habit and I really do not like to have my ham that thick.

What is more, tonight, when I had more of the ham for dinner (I only had one slice before), I broke out in hives. I am still not sure whether it was the ham or because of some other situation, but I am going to continue to observe. If I do get hives again after eating the ham, that means there is some ingredient that is not fresh or that I am allergic to. Shall not speculate too much yet but will try to post some more about it on a later date.

Moral of the story is to buy from a trusted and reliable source. Going back to Cold Storage the next time I buy ham.

Fine line between being attentive and being a pest

I do not know what SHATEC is teaching their students but I think there is a small issue with the service staff in the local scene.

A few months ago, I went to White Dog Cafe at Vivo City. The over-zealous staff kept coming to our table to try to clear our plates when we obviously still had food on it. I, being the ever particular customer about service, told off the staff in a nice manner not to come over again to interupt us. We will let them know when to clear the food.

Last Friday, my friends and I went to St James Powerhouse (which incidentally is opposite Vivo City) for some drinks. The wait staff came no less than 5 times to ask whether they could clear my glass. I know that they are anxious for us to buy more drinks and my drink was near empty, but I believe that there is a fine line between being attentive and just plain irritating.

I did explain to one of them on their second asking, that I still wanted the ice in the glass (had a pussy foot since I was driving and it was a Friday). They did not stop coming over.

If we have to be interrupted all the time by wait staff and having to pick up our conversations, then going to that particular place is no longer an enjoyment. If the staff were really attentive, they would have told one another not to clear that table yet or not to disturb. They should know when is a good interval to interrupt and not be like a pest.

Perhaps too, they were following textbook instructions or instructions given to them by their teachers in hotel schools or their supervisors at work. In any case, both authorities are wrong. They should be flexible enough to read signs, body signs as to when a customer would not want to be disturbed. That is no way to push sales.

I would be very put off and would leave quite quickly. I would also have this feeling that the establishment is more concerned about its sales rather than its customers and therefore, I would not stay for long.

We did leave after one round of drinks but only because we intended it to be that way. We just wanted a drink before hitting home after a movie. Ask me if I would go back there again and my answer would be that it would not be likely. Or at least, not for a very long time, just like how I would not go to White Dog Cafe again.

4 boxes of tissues and 6 rolls of kitchen towels

This is so funny that I really need to blog about it. Recently I bought supplies to be put at my little rented place. It is easier when you have a car. Thing is, that particular night that I bought those supplies, I had many other things to carry upstairs. I was too tired to go back down again and the next day, had to return the car to my Dad as he needed to send my Grandma to the hospital for her knee operation.

A few days later, while I was having my retreat, I had 4 miss calls from home. Things like that are scary nowadays. You just pray hard that it is not bad news. I called home at the end of the day when we were out of the silent phase.

Turns out that my Dad was pissed with my 4 boxes of tissues and 6 rolls of kitchen towels:

Dad: Eh, you have these boxes and rolls of tissues in the car who are they for?

Me: oh! Those are for my place.

Dad: When are going to take it to your place?

Me: When I next get the car...

Dad: When will that be?

Me: Soon, I guess. Depends when you can give me the car lah!

Dad: You better remove those tissues soon! The are heavy and will eat up more petrol!

Me: WHAT?????!!!!!!!

Dad: They are heavy!

Me: What has tissues got to do with petrol??????

Dad (getting a little louder): You don't know that they contribute to the weight of the car and when the car gets heavier, it will need more petrol to move it??

Me (trying to keep calm): Can you please tell me how heavy can tissues be? How much
weight will it amount to?????

Dad (getting louder still, which means he knows he is getting out of point but does not want to admit it): Do you know how expensive petrol is nowadays?

Me: Ya, I know. I pump petrol too, but that's not the POINT!!!! My point is how heavy can those few boxes of tissues and kitchen towels weigh?? It is not as if they are cartons. It's not going to affect the weight of the car much, let alone eat up petrol!!

Dad: They are heavy....

Me: Please call mum...I want to talk to her.

Dad (shouting at the top of his voice, refusing to hear me out or let me speak): You only....

Me: Good-bye

(I hang up)

No point talking to him when he is in that state. Mum later explained to me that he was referring to the other stuff in the boot but I think he was being ridiculous by screaming his head off over the phone like that. Besides, not all the stuff in the boot is mine.

It is also a little sad coz he is showing signs that he is getting old and stubborn and would not listen to what others have to say when he shouts like that. He has become a little unreasonable (that, sometimes, is an understatement).

Nevertheless, this has somewhat become a joke and me and my housemate cannot stop laughing about the issue of the weight of tissues.

Good Friday and missing a good friend

Yesterday was Good Friday. I think technically speaking, this is the second year that I am going for Good Friday service on my own. I used to meet my good friend Jen at the Novena Church and we would have a meal of thosai and vadai at Little India after mass was over. We would really be hungry by then, after all that fasting.

Through the years, we have become busy people and have stopped going out or meeting up so often. Good Friday was usually a time for catching up on our lives. Somehow or other, I become the negative end of the battery while she is the positive end. She was always giving me encouragement and positive outlooks while I poured out all my life's unhappiness (personally, I think she got tired of this after a while. She must be wondering: Why doesn't this girl get it?" Hahaha).

She was also my religious guide in that if there was anything or any celebration that I was not sure about, I could turn to her. When she left, there was a bit of a spiritual void. Luckily I found this bunch of my colleagues who are also catholics and they have helped me in a big, big way. The silliest question I have asked so far is,"The bulletin states adoration until 12 midnight. Do I have to stay for the whole length of it?".

Two years on, I still miss her terribly during Good Friday. Last year, I was bad. I got so upset that I didn't attend the Good Friday mass. I only went for Easter Sunday mass. This year, I chose to go for mass at my own parish instead and half an hour earlier to church did not get me a good parking space or a seat in church. I had to stand for the two and a half hours of service. I guess many have chosen to go for the 10.30am service so that they can have the rest of the afternoon to do their own things.

I also forgot that I had to kneel a lot. Stand and kneel, stand and kneel. That was due to the stations of the cross. Let me tell you, my back problem will not be solved till 4.15pm this afternoon when I go and see my Chinese chiropractor. Somehow though, my back miraculously did not hurt while I repeat the standing and kneeling in church. Thank God for that.

At about 3pm, it started to pour and again, my good friend Jen's words rang in my head again. She told me before that somehow, it always rains around this time on Good Friday. She also told me that this was around this time that Jesus was put on the cross (or was it the time that He died? Anyway, it is one or the other).

I miss you Jen but I am happy that you are happy where you are, overseas. I am also much more at peace with myself so don't worry about me (not that you would, really :P).

Rejection

I was just walking along the roads, on my way from City Hall MRT station to Dhoby Ghaut, wanting to save some money and yet doing some form of exercise, when I thought to myself: I reject men first before they can reject me.

My fear of rejection by men is so great that I reject them first. Even the man on the street is not let off. Some man may just give a simple look and sometimes close to a stare and I a quick to say that they are such animalistic creatures that anything in skirt would attract them. Sometimes, come to think of it, being looked at can be a compliment. The stares may not always be good intentions but at least, most of the time, you realise that you have become a topic for the guys' conversations. That of course, is a bit of a vanity, but my point is, at least you are being noticed.

Any guy that might seem like potential date material? I would try to find as much incompatibility as possible, or as many of his bad habits as possible to ensure that I will not fall for him.

The ultimate fear of rejection is of course, not being the first one to make the move and ask if the other would want to be my boyfriend. I think that would take a whole century for me to do that now. Why? Because I have been rejected before. Even that used to be quite a shameful thing that I would never really admit to many.

Why admit it now? Because I see no reason to hide in that shell anymore. That doesn't mean I will make the first move, but at least now I know why I reject guys most of the time.

Food of the moment: Subway Subs!

I must admit this. I am having this obsession with Subway sandwiches NOW! I just had it last week with my housemate (we had a foot long sub) and I was craving for it two days ago.

I also had a bad craving for fried squid head from Old Chang Kee, but I decided to give that one up for Lent. Do you know how difficult that is? I pass by the shop everyday to go to the MRT! Just a few days more! Anyway, I sidetrack.

I finally gave in to temptation and ate Subway again. Was at Raffles City and was debating between having Saigon Baguette which is equally good) and Subway. I told myself,"If I can find a seat at Subway, then I will go ahead and eat it. If not, I will just go get a Saigon baguette. That shop so totally does not have a seat and I would usually have to scram to find a place at the fountain.

Turns out, there were seats, so Subway it was! Why did I not abstain from it? Well, it is healthier food than deep fried squid heads, so there you go! I will try to stay away from deep fried food for as long as possible. >Grin<

First world shopping centres with third world toilets

I must say that our shopping centres are of a suitable standard. Sometimes, the air-conditioning can even be compared to that of south pole. Not that I am really complaining though. As long as it keeps me out of the rain and heat and I get to buy some stuff and have some snacks, I am happy.

However, the one thing I cannot fathom is how our toilet can be so third world? I am so ashamed of it myself and would rather not step into it if I could help it. Either the people of Singapore do not know how to pee properly or we seriously need to send our hygiene officers overseas for some training and refresher courses.

I just think that that it is totally unacceptable to have perpetual wet floor and...and...that stench!! It is not a good enough excuse that a certain group of people who need to wash up after doing their 'business' have made the floor wet. Where is the cleaner? Really, we cannot just put the blame on one group of people too. What about those who cannot aim??

I sm simply ashamed at the state of our public toilets. Of course, not all the toilets are like that. This particular one that I have just used extensively for as my example, is situated in the heartlands (suburban area, so to speak). Still, I think it should not be in this sorry state.

Cats can be scary too-too!

Hehe...the clever cat strikes again, this time, while I was away for the retreat.

Luckily my housemate had her door closed. If not, I think she may just get into as much shock as I did. She told me she heard him meowing rather loudly and knew he was at her door when he heard him scratching his neck, causing the bell to ring.

We are going to make more observations. If he is going to get out just one more time, we would have to do something to that door of ours..eh-huh!

Brain seperated from the body and hip seperated from upper torso

My brain is zo zombie-fied. Had to take pills to settle my sensitive nose problem which was further aggrevated by the fact that I was crying throughout the whole weekend. This pill is so potent that I can sleep through till about noon the next day.

Had to drag myself to work and so here I am, feeling like I left my brain at home and only my carcass has arrived at work. The only thing I am feeling now is happiness as I now have a new barcode scanner and a soft-touch keyboard (which is why I am furiously typing away! Hee!)

Used to have this hand-held scanner which was super irritating as it did not read the newer, but 'weaker' barcode imprintments. Now my proud little new number is on a stand and I simply have to hold the book under the scanner. Work will be done much faster!

Then, I also developed this back/ hip ache that will not leave my after 3 days. I cringe everytime I move. Worse if I have to bend down and all. I think I need to see the Chinese doctor who will crack, twist and turn every born in my body so that everything is in the right place again.

I feel that my body is split into many million pieces and I would really like the idea of not working. Hee! Hee! After having a taste of staying at home for so many days.

Communal living and bread

Going for the retreat brought me back to communal living whereby I had to stay with two other ladies in the same room. I did not mind that at all, while some other retreatant expressed that she will definitely prefer a single room (which she got, as requested).

Communal living has brought me back to camp days. We had one big toilet whereby we had to queue up to shower and had to wake up earlier than the morning call so as to ensure that one DOES get to shower without much haste and hurry. On the first morning, I had to bathe with cold water coz the heater was not working. Other than that, it was fine.

Another thing that reminded me so much of camping life and communal living was the breakfasts that we had. It was just loaves of bread and jars of jams/kaya and better. We just spread whatever we wanted on the bread and brought the plates back to the table to eat.

The spoilt me is used to having some form of meat (like ham) on my bread but after the first bite, I felt that I was going back to the basics and I was really thankful that I had bread to eat and butter and marmalade for spread. The simplicity of the meal itself reminded me that there were kids and people out there who did not even have a decent meal to put into their mouths.

Once again, I am thankful for the food we eat.

Addiction

Just wondering out loud as to whether there is such a thing as being addicted to making confessions? I had two confessions within the short period of three days. I have come to learn that the priests that sits either facing away from you or next to you is not a monster. They are gentle, kind, understanding and can sometimes be quite humorous. Not so scary after all.

I think I (kind of) no longer fear going for confession. :)

By the way, when I voiced this out to one of the retreatants during the retreat, she gave me this "Are you crazy?" look. Anyway, still love her. We had such a good and bad time during the retreat.

Retreat

Retreat from what? No, I went for a weekend retreat, whereby lots of quiet time is spent alone, reflecting. I went for the Beginning Experience.

It was a self-discovery that I needed for so long. I had prayed to God for so long, about whether I am still accepted as a catholic if I were divorced, and I got the answer through this retreat. I found that there were many who were in similar or worse situations than me and they are coping, still being loved by God. They, still embracing God's love.

I thought my tears had dried up four years ago but more just poured throughout the weekend. I thought I had managed my own closure but this, is my official closure. This may not be the end, even after I have had closure but I now know tat I am armed with the right emotional tools to move on and to cope with what' to come.

God seemed to have answered my prayer on New Year's day. I went for mass and found this brochure with this very bold headline "Single Again?" I picked it up with trembling hands and read what it had to offer.

At first, I thought that it was not so suitable for me and that there will be lots more of those people who have lost a loved one through death. I took the brochure and re-read it several times over. I sat in front of the grotto and cried. Discreetly of course, as that place is in full view of anyone going to and from church.

I put it off for a long while as I felt, I was not sure I had the courage to go through it. Two weeks ago, I saw another big poster reminding me of the BE weekend and it said that it was going to be from 14-16 March. That was God's way of asking me to call and find out more.

I still hate makig cold calls and yet, I did it. After I called up and found that they only have two weekends a year, I decided there and then to go for this weekend. I wanted to treat it like another holiday for myself, which it was. The Canossian Convent was beautiful.

I thought I had no more tears to cry and all that crying had been done four years ago. The weekend brought on fresh ones that were either suppressed for too long or newly found. My eyes were like ping-pong balls at the end of it all.

I went to the retreat with no expectations and yet I came away from it with so much more. I made a lot of new friends, some of whom are going through much worse situations than me, and I am more emotionally equipped to help myself move on from here.

I am ready for MY beginning.

Confession

The act of contrition has gone through my mind at least a thousand times. I was so afraid that I was going to forget some parts that I started memorising like two weeks before penitential service.

I also went through the whole process of making a confession and was really thankful that Catholic News had a step-by-step guide on how to make one. I used to chuck it aside as I was really petrified of going to one, having to sit in a room (I haven't actually tried that) or sit next to a priest and 'fess up all your siins.

I was really determined to go though, even though many have told me that it between me and God and a priest recently told me that I do not have to go through it if I did not want to, but I felt that I must face my fear.

For the whole week, I searched heart and soul (ok, not really but it was close) to see what I have done wrong and can 'fess up. It came to the point like I was going to write an essay: "keep it to three points", I told myself.

I almost did not make it for pennitential service again. Like chicken out, you know? That is what I am really good at sometimes. I wanted to give the excuse that it was raining and I had to send my Dad to the community club for his weekly lessons with his students that I had to miss it. Lame.

I pushed myself to go still. The starting out time from home was later than I planned and usually, if this happens, I would rather not go out in the end. I forced myself to though.

Surprise, surprise! I got there and was early! I was greeted by wardens and was given a pamphlet on how to make a good confession and I sat down. I was half expecting mass to start for this was what happened when I attended SFX and if I remember correctly, St Anne's too. Nothing.

Then I heard someone tell her friend that the area I was sitting at was for one to make confessions in Mandarin. Oops! So I moved to the only obvious choice, Father Loisseau (which, if I remember correctly, means bird in French and he is indeed French). Can't go wrong for I don't think he speaks Mandarin.

I realised that this was just going to be people making confessions and that's that. There was no mass to go with, just queueing up to go for confession. As usual, there is a group of people who could not stop talking or making noise. This time, it was father and daughter!!! They could not stop talking and the mother/wife was obviously embarrassed by their actions.

Many a time did I want to turn back and tell them, "Do you mind??? You are in the house of God. Respect it! And are you not suppose to be reflecting upon your sins and not be talking?"

I stopped myself from doing this for it would just go to show how intolerant I am. I was even more amused when daughter started talking about PSP with her Dad and how the Dad said something about not getting it for her anymore. IT IS after all the season of Lent. You are supposed to give up something that you like very much, for example, refrain from buying such material stuff as PSP. I am in great wonderment as to why the Dad was not a role model for his child and has joined in her senseless bantering and how he has not corrected her ideas of Lent. Worrying.

Well, the only consolation is that I do not need to say a word for God will be theirjudge and to each his own. They eventually quietened down to very hushed whispers (not that they were not speaking in hushed tones before).

As for my confession? The priest did not even ask me to recite the act of contrition. Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!! And Phew!!!! Aaaahhhhh because I memorised all this for nothing and phew because I did not have to say it and it was all over.

You know, even though I used to dislike confessions like these, I have a feeling that I may just get addicted to it. We'll see.

To be tactful or not to be tactful. That is not a question!

I got a gift voucher to get some stuff from Citigems by my housemate. Turns out that she too, went to buy herself some bling-bling from there. Met up with her to go take a look at the stuff as I was already dying to buy something last Sunday.

My housemate and I decided to meet and choose a suitable piece of jewellery for me. We were being served by a very nice salesperson by the name of Lydia (at the AMK Hub branch), when this other salesperson, with a very foreign accent came over to help her (and to serve us). I pointed out that I liked this particular pendant which I thought was a ruby. I told my housemate, "Hey! This ruby pendant looks great!"

The other salesperon by the name of "Trainee" immediately corrected me in Mandarin,"This is not [ruby]. This is [garnet] (square brackets spoken in English)". Her tone was unapolegitic (not that I expect it to be) and quite matter-of-fact.

It was like I kena wacked on the face, mentally, ala Ally McBeal. I was in total shock. Then in she immediately told me that the rubies were in the next cabinet and asked if I wanted to see them. Told her I was not interested as the colours are not so nice.

From then on, I was determined not to give the sale. As a customer service officer, you can be assertive in some ways but never tell a person off like that, especially not when the person is going to spend a few hundred dollars!!

My housemate whispered that she had more 'exciting' things to tell me later and I could hardly wait till we left the shop!

In between, Lydia came to assist us and I so wanted to buy something, except that I did not see something that I particularly like. Lydia was again called away by "Trainee" to serve another customer who obviously had previously liaised with her. It was back to square one and I was stuck with "Trainee", which I did not want to give the sale to, did not want her to earn commission out of my sale.

What made me even more determined not to buy anything from "Trainee" was when she again asked if I wanted to look at the rubies, which were the colour of rose syrup and to me, looked like masak-masak (toys or to play in Malay). Preferred the blood red garnet. She has proven to me that she had not been listening to me earlier when I said I did not like the colour of the rubies! She is SO NOT getting a sale from me.

In the end, I decided not to buy anything at all. Too bad for Lydia coz she was really very sweet and very profssional. In fact, I always made a point to remember their names, those salespersons at Citigems, for, up till tonight, they always gave professional service and I always made sure that they managed to earn their commission.

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What was my housemate's encounter with "Trainee"? The other day, she was trying to look out for a present for me and she saw something that she could get for herself and so, decided to try it on. It was a pair of earrings.

"Trainee" was serving my housemate and while she was trying to put on the earrings, it fell out. This is only because she had not put on the backing/stud to fasten the earring. Our dear "Trainee" spoke in Mandarin, telling my housemate, "You hole is too big."

Hahahahahahaha!!!!! How vulgar and crude! She should have said that my housemate's ear hole is too big and not her hole! I told my housemate that she should have asked her how she knows that her hole is too big and whether she has tried it before.

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Really, when you are selling something like jewellery, you have got to have some tact and should beautify things even though they are just...ordinary. Not too over the top but just right. This would include the customers too. It is a skill to be able to find out what so great about your customer and emphasise on it. Just one good point is good enough.

When I bought stuff from them, they would usually play on the fact that I have roundish fingers and wrists. This makes it easy for my hand to complement most jewellery. In other words, they do not only get to compliment my hands but also on the hind sight, make their job easier. They do not have to talk too much to convince me that the piece of jewellery looks good.

Anyhow, I might or might not go back to AMK Hub again. My last buy was from Citilink. I may go back there. Or I may just go to Vivocity, where my housemate suggested.

For sale

Went to finalise the price for the sale of my house today.

It feels so surreal...that I am selling my own house. It used to be that my Dad was the one selling our family home and so on. Now, I am going to 'handle' the sale of my own home.

The valuation was good and the first ad will be published on Wednesday. I am keeping my fingers crossed that it will be a fast and good sale. It is a blessing in disguise that he is super good at housework and had kept the condition of the house in pretty much mint condition. Only stains on the floor are those of the table legs and the furniture legs.


I must say, I also chose the right curtain materials coz they look like newly-made ones too! My dad was feeling a little 'sayang' (literally means love in Malay, but here in kind of means pity) for them and the lights. Told him that it is pointless to spend time and money taking those light fittings down and having no plac to use them. Almost like white elephant.

My dad is like that. He tries to hang on to any and everything that he can remotely relate to and then he finds that there are too many things in the house. No, correction, my mum and I find that he has too many things in the house.

Me? I kind of inherited the keeping rubbish bit. I get a little nostalgic with things too, but once I decide to throw them out, I am decisive. My dad will sit on his stuff for 10 years before he makes a decision. No, I am only joking.

Nevertheless, he IS a great dad, accompanying me to see the agent at the house and all, coz I know that I will never be able to make it alone. Also, I don't want himto go back on his words. This is called "got back-up mah!"

Getting more information about being an early childhood educator

More information came today as a colleague shared about her experiences as a teacher assistant in a childcare centre.

She seemed to have found joy in working there and she as given me back some hope that I had lost before. However, this was just her temporary job before she went into university at that time and so, it may not seem so tedious at that time.

However, she did express that she did consider becoming an early childhood educator but because, one again, the pay came into consideration and she felt that it would take her way too long to repay her study loans to her parents if she took that path.

Anyhow, I am still open to options and I am still optimistic. I can choose to do whatever I want.

Little help from friends + drool-worthy guy to go with it

Somehow God surprises in His own ways. When you are in need or you feel desperate, there are little ways that He will show you that He is there for you. I am thankful for those little miracles (as I would like to call them) as they help me through my days.

Yesterday, and ex-colleague came back to the library to do a reading on her new book "What Sallamah Didn't Know". She is Sharon Ismail and is now a lecturer in one of the polytechnics and has recently given a booktalk to the students of Wheelock College, which is THE college to go to for anything about early childhood education.

Before the programme started, I told her that I might want to branch out to become a kindy teacher and such. She was all ears as she felt that it was time to move on to do something else.

After the reading session (where the cute illustrator was also co-hosted. See pic in link.), we met up for coffee with another guy, this architecure lecturer from NUS, who was going to try to write his own book too.

Let me just repeat that the illustrator, Khairudin Saharom, was DROOL-WORTHY!

Back to what I wanted to say: Before we went our seperate ways, Sharon told me that if I needed any information at all about Wheelock College, I could just drop her a note.

My point is that, at a time that I am leaving and thinking of so-called new frontiers, their always seems someone out there who has ready information that can help me along and help me think that little bit more about my career options.

p/s: after they supposedly left, I met Khai at the car park (again!) as I was leaving the office. He waved bye-bye and I almost could not stand properly anymore. Legs went all wobbly and I felt like I was going to faint but had to continue smiling and wave back to him. Hahahaha!!!!

Spiritual

Yesterday, I was in a very spiritual kinda mood.

First of all, I had kids from a catholic kindergarten come to my library. Though they were nursery class, they were so cute and so well-behaved.

Then I remembered that I should call the contact person from the Beginning Experience and find out what it is all about and what activities are going on. I really think this was God's answer to me after these three years.

I called up, found out what it was and decided to sign up. This hopefully, would be a new direction for me in my spiritual growth. I have always lamented that there lacked such groups within church to support people like me. Looks like I am wrong. Only thing is that they were not so visible to others or to me in particular. For before this, I had been, as Father Fossion used to say, "an out standing catholic". The one standing outside of church.

The lady on the other line advised that I may not find specific answers when I am done with this retreat but at least I know that there is a support group out there for people like me.

It is going to be a live-in week-end. Not even sure where in Jurong this retreat place is but I have already said yes, for they only hold this retreat twice a year. They target specifically at people who are single again, either through loss of a loved one (death), seperation or divorce.

This may sound strange to some, but I just feel Lord, my God is guiding me slowly, but surely together with holy spirit. It could perhaps also be due to the Lenten season that I am feeling so spiritual now but I feel that this particular Lenten season, I am more intune with God than ever before.

Good moments

I did have good moments for during my birthday though. The night before, I treated one of my colleagues to Fish & Co. at the Glass house. Pretty good place to go to. Only thing that the sound system was a bit loud. Lurved the live band singing though.

Then my immediate colleague treated me to Pizza Hut lunch the next day. There were lots of well-wishers via sms too! Felt really blessed and happy that so many of them remembered.

I wouldn't say it was the best birthdays that I had (due to the bad stuff that happened or, are happening), but the good stuff cancelled the bad stuff out.

What goes around comes around

Remember how I was grumbling about bad service at Muji? I got a taste of my own medicine, and on my birthday as well. What luck! What a thing to get for a birthday 'present'.

I do not usually go on customer service counter that often. Most of the time, I am stationed at the advisory counter. For the last few days though, branch was short of staff and I was roped in to man the counter on my own.

I would say lots of interesting things happened and turns out, not so nice things happened too. There was this old man who, either genuinely or purposely, could not find the books that he wants and was insisting that I find it for him immediately. Then our online catalogue was down and I could not find the exact call number for him. I told him to be patient but he kind of expected me to give him a miracle.

There was a queue forming and so, I told him to please go browse at other books first and I would help him later. Next in line was this lady, who knew that she could scan her card at this machine to check the due dates of the books she borrowed but just decided that she wanted to check the books one by one.

I was getting a little agitated. For one, I did not like people who were not self-reliant (I know I should not be like that but at that point of time, I could not help it). Secondly, while I was serving her, someone cut in to tell me that there was no power supply in the powerpoint outlets and they could not charge their laptops.

According to this female patron, I started shaking my head and I slammed down her books which was bad customer service. She wrote in to complain against me. Said I was rude and that I should be trained to handle stress with a smile etc, etc. Oh, and she had to stress that she was a trainer in customer service.

SO WHAT???

If she was a trainer then she should be even more aware of how to be good customer. She jolly well knew that she could check the machine (for she apologised and mumbled that she knew she could check from the machine before requesting me to check).

She should even be more empathetic towards customer service officers who may be overworked (can't say if we are underpayed. Depends on company I guess).

I mean I give a piece of my mind and although I often 'threaten' (to my friends only. Not even to the service provider) to write in, I rarely do.

I think that Singaporeans (including myself...sometimes) are too obnoxious and not gracious enough as customers. From the point of view of the service provider and a customer myself, I think these things go both ways.

If you think "Customers are King", I think customers are king of giving you bullshit. Myself as a customer included.

P/S: I make no excuses for myself as I do admit that sometimes I can be a lousy customer too. Depending on sitaution though, it could be that the service provider 'provoked' me first.

Older yet again

I wish time could stand still and stop at the times when I was young and carefree, when I don't have to fall into self-denial and say that I am not that old. Age is...can be...a relative thing. The only thing that is not relative are all your wrinkles that start to appear and fats that refuse to go away.

Stay tuned for more UN-interesting updates on this day I was born.

Cats can be scary too!

This morning, I had woken up, brushed my teeth, and gone straight back to bed. Because I did not want to wake my housemate up, I did not close the door.

I was still in my blissful power sleep (as I call these quick naps of 10-15 minutes), when I heard a loud "Meow!" and saw the cat right before my eyes, in my room!!!!!

Goodness gracious me! Holy SH*&t! The cats have let themselves out of the room!!! I have heard them trying to open the door before but they never really did succeed. This time, it was freaky and eerie coz they did not only manage to open the door, they turned on the lights too!!!!!!

Why I say freaky is coz I was the one who fed them last night as my housemate came home late. I remembered specifically that I switched off the light after putting food into their dishes, half wondering whether they would be ok, eating in semi-darkness. Looks like I do not have to worry so much anymore.

I am still in quite a state of shock mixed with amusement as I type this. I am just thinking, "What next?"

I mean I know that my ex sis in-law's Russian Blue could turn the door knob and all, but...but...anyhow, I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry when I found him in my room and so, I did a half-scold. Really wasn't that awake to use my boom voice and did not want to wake my housemate up. Plus I didn't want neighbours to think I was cat-abusing. ("P)

Horrible Muji

Despite the fact that it is a Japanese company (who pride themselves with impeccable services and products), Muji has never had really good customer service.

This is not the first time that I am annoyed with their customer service, or lack thereof.

I was at the Paragon outlet and was happily picking up items to buy. The normal thing to do when you need to pay, is to queue up. I was in the queue but this stupid bitch who came after me, walked in front of me (there was a big gap between the queue poles and the cashier itself).

This bitch acted so bloody polite by asking this other couple whether they wanted to go first as they already had their stuff on the counter. That couple said it was ok and she went ahead!!!

Stupid staff at the cashier did not say anything and processed her payment. I was so angry I wanted to put down everything and go. There was however, a bag that I really liked and it was the last piece. I decided to queue up and give the cashier a piece of my mind.

I told the cashier that it was pointless to have a queueing system or any queue poles if the staff are not going to abide by the queueing rules. You treat the customer like stupid by making them stand there and not serve them; asking them to abide by the rules while you don't. I was so angry that I did not even reply or look at the cashier when he spewed out the whole strong of standard apologies that I really did not want to hear at that point of time.

I was angry at the staff. More so, I was angry at myself. My eyes were ready to flip and roll. I was about to spew gibberish from my mouth. I was still so angry that when I reached home, I wanted to puke. That was really bad, I know, but that was how mad I was. Why was I so bloody polite? Why was I so bloody timid and not shout at when the bitch was right in front of the cashier? Shout out that the queue is rightfully where I was standing? In this way, I could have felt better. In this way, I could have no need to scold an unnecessary person.

Actually, as a service person myself, I hold him half responsible for what had happened. He, as a staff could have been more attentive and regulated the queue. He should have been sharp enough to see who was in the queue and who was not. He should not have simply be intimidated by that bitch (according to my Spacecake, she overhead how the woman was very demanding and was being a bit difficult on staff).

I demand that level of service for I myself give that sort of service. I almost always go by queue order. There was this once, this colleague's wife wanted to cut queue (just because she could not control her son and he was running all over the library), I told her matter of factly that I was actually serving another customer and that she would have to join the queue. Only on second 'pleading' did I ask my customer for permission to serve her first.

Even then, I was really agitated. I felt there was a bit of an abuse of rights in a way. Plus the most ironical part is that her spouse was in charge of customer service in our organisation. SIGH!

I would like to think I treat all my customers equally, even the young ones. When I am at the Children's counter, an adult might come along while I am serving a young boy/girl. I will tell them nicely that I am helping them. I think it is my way of showing that they are as important as an adult and hopefully, just hopefully, in a small little, that this little gesture will stick in their minds that they should treat other people like that too. Equally.

Thinking back though, I there was really nothing to be so angry about and there are better things to be angry at. Customer service levels are just this bad that then few that are good are like treasures found. Many of my friends have resigned to fate but I just refused to take things lying down. Maybe it is time I should. Then I would be able to live longer. Hahaha!

p/s: I know some of you might have heard the story about the colleague's wife more than once but sorry, I have not blogged about it before and I wanted it to go down in Internet history (Hahaha!!). So here it is.

My own idol

No, I am not going to start my own show. It is just that I met one of my teen-hood idol today. She is Marion Nicole Teo. She was Miss Singapore/ Universe 1985. This was the year that Miss Universe was held in Singapore and all eyes were on Miss Singapore.

She happened to be from my Primary school and then, went to Singapore Chinese Girls' School for her Secondary education, which my cousin went to. I remember this clearly for we were arguing which school she belonged to and both of u wanted her to be from our school only. Hehe....childish, I know, but we still had some childish-ness in us yet, at that time.

I remember our teachers telling us proudly that she was from our school too! That day when the programme was broadcasted live (which was a super-duper big deal during that time, we all skipped lessons to go to the AV room (where there was a big tv) and we watched the whole show Our teachers miraculously 'disappeared' too!

Anyway, she taught us grooming today. It was somewhat like Jill Lowe's "Colour me beautiful" except that she gave it a more local context so that it was more relevant to us. We learnt heaps and even had fun with the make-up.

For me, it was a treat, to have my teen-hood idol up close and personal. She is still immaculately pretty and her frame seems much smaller than it was on tv. Either she slimmed down a lot, or the tv really did not do her justice. I had fun!

Good 'ol spaghetti bolognaise

Recently, I have been eating a lot of this. I had it for lunch on 25th Feb, after my health screening. It was at Swenson's and tonight, the same dish at PS cafe, Paragon. I think just like broccoli, I got my taste for bolognaise back again.

You see, my dislike for broccoli and cualiflower started when I stayed in homestay in Aussie land. During the week, they would cater food and because broccoli and cauliflower are 'sturdy' veggies, they gave a lot of that. When weekend comes, she would usually cook her daughter's favourite, which was? You guessed it! Spaghetti Bolognaise!

Well, I did not dislike spaghetti like I dislike the veggies. It was more like I coud not find authentically good ones in Singapore that could give hearty servings. Many places that serve this dish give poor imitation of the real deal.

PS cafe though, managed to make it such that it feels like a very home-cooked one done by an Italian mama. Mama mia!

What is there to compare?

Just came back from visitig my second uncle and his family. They just came back from the States and they were proudly telling us about their experience.

I was not really paying any attention until my aunt was talking about how strict customs was over there. She told us how my uncle had to go for full body search because of the fact that he has got some implant in his knee.

My uncle then pointed out that she too had some implant on her back. She then said she had no problem when passing through the security gate. There was no beep or anything. She then proudly announced that her implants were titanium etc, etc.

Really. What is there to be proud of, these implants?? I don't find anything to brag about. It means that there is something wrong with your body. Yet, this aunt is the same one that goes around comparing with my third aunt, which specialist is better and which specialist she got to see at every family gathering. It is as if she were collecting trophies by seeing these specialists.

I find it even more absurd to have to compare about what these implants are made of. They are your typical kaisu sort, who likes to compare everything, from children's homework right down to the type of washing detergent you use. Theirs would have to be the cheapest type and yet, they will tell you it's the best.

I am not sure whether I have blogged about her or about this 'phenomena' before but her son now is a doctor and her daughter, a lab tech (or was it researcher) who has just gone over to San Diego to work. To me it is rather interesting that her son has become a doctor. It is almost like she could keep him as his personal physician in that sense.

Well, this is the family I do not like. Snobs and know-it-alls, all except my doctor cousin. He seems to be the nicest of the lot. Who knows though, that he may be chauvanistic like his dad. I am keeping my fingers crosse that he is not.