dreams. reality. making do. dreams.

i used to run a sex hotel.

yes. moi.

along with a good friend who shared the same ideals (which did NOT, incidentally, include a sex hotel).

in our wildest dreams, we had envisioned something like what hotel FOX had, but our [lack of] budget forbade this actuality. and there was a steep bank loan to pay off as well. we had imagined an oasis for chilled-out exchange between backpackers from around the globe. perspiration-drenched walkers could rest their weary feet, get their packs off their backs, peel their sticky clothes off their bodies and take a hot (or cold) shower. the security would mean their belongings were safe with us. and then they could walk around little India, or check out Toa Payoh. or book their next flight online. or plan for the next leg of their tour of Asia. and meet other similarly weary but enthusiastic travellers to talk of sights, encounters, discoveries of nature! shops! smells! bargains!

given that we were both students of Design, with nary an iota of Business background running in our veins, idealism was very much the way to go. we were young. and carefree. and naive... a great many aspects connected to youth and independence appealed to us. we wanted to provide everything and anything! we wanted to have themed rooms! piped-in music in the corridors! a wading pool to sit in to cool down! a self-service kitchen! a chill-out lounge for smokes and beer! pretty painted walls everywhere! cool i-dare-you-to-eat-a-durian nights, or trips to newton circus for beer and seafood!

we wanted to hang out with all our guests. we wanted to introduce them to Singapore and what it meant to us. the night markets, the hawker centres, the gardens, the neighbourhoods. balancing those dreams with accounts, daily earnings, workers' wages, ordering of various supplies, hiring hardworking and dependable help, promotion of our new hangout, upkeep of the place and other managerial tasks wore us out. thoroughly.

we interviewed people twice (even three times!) our age. we agonised over whether or not they would turn up the next day, or if we would be left in the lurch and have to call in someone from the rejected pile. we manned the front desk and dealt with some irate customers sometimes. we cleaned rooms and toilets and considered a 20-minute average a target to strive towards. we received advice from mentors, that did not make sense at that point in time. perhaps we would now dispense similar advice to younglings in our position then. we endured, and are now proud supporters of the "what doesn't kill you will only make you stronger" theory.

and it came to pass (i find a strange satisfaction in using this phrase) that, though our efforts were beginning to bear fruit, there were many other DOMs (dirty old men) around, intent on thwarting our hard work. i have neglected to mention that the establishment we had taken over was one where the noteworthy words "cheap accomodation for travellers" intermingled with "$40 for 2 hours sex hotel". where the distinction had been previously blurred, we set out to re-educate our user group: weeding out the undesired and encouraging the potential targets. it was not always easy, but there have been, admittedly, many humourous incidents involving some misinformed australians, sea-faring marine/coastal engineers, clueless germans, tech-savvy sri lankans, friendly irish, transgendered thais, chatty englishwomen, and sweet middle-aged women who were generally nice and bought us food.
forgive me. stereotypical though it seems, this was what stuck in my head

some friendships have been nurtured, as is the nature of hospitality-related jobs. reality has become a shade less dim. ideals, now, if ideals were reached with such ease, that would render us mediocre people all the time. so, it is a decidedly good thing for ideals to be hard-to-reach, so they remain aspects we strive continually for. i have learnt much. and shall continue doing so.

long live dreams.

oops! he did it again.

it happens all too often. blogicides. one generates lots of good karma from readership, then is forced (under some circumstances or other) to shut down one's blog. poof! and it's gone.

but then again, that's the benefit of the Internet. being able to call it quits on your own terms. no real consequence, besides perhaps having to set the account straight with certain affected parties. otherwise, one answers only to him/herself. quite a sweet deal, if you ask me. but many a time, the trust one has taken a good amount of time to build can come crashing down in one careless moment of catharsis. i speak, regretfully, from experience. the Internet can be a useful device, but also a dangerous tool.

old fashioned like adinahaes, i am not an advocator of "washing one's dirty laundry in public". because the Internet is a medium of such immediacy, i suppose it is thus required (for the sake of maintaining harmony and some form of social ties) that one exercises a fair amount of self-restraint when airing one's views. and even in the act of putting them out, it is important to acknowledge, like mr wang, that differing views are inevitable. i believe, that i believe in moderation.

everything comes at a price. even privacy. watching a tv programme on hackers recently was a timely reminder for me. these everyday-people, nondescript, meet up in cafes or even Internet chat-rooms to exchange precious information on credit card numbers, passwords, driver's licence numbers, and even mothers' maiden names. aagh. the world as we know it collapses around us, literally.

a friend-of-a-friend had an order of about a dozen bulldozers charged to her credit card when she purchased a book online from Amazon. the opportunity cost of a convenience borne of globalisation. instantaneous gratification. both for yourself and the party placing an order for a dozen bulldozers.

- -

bubblemunche/hisreason has walked out from his safari/explorer frame again. a moment of silence, please.

where you'll find me

while driving home a few nights back, i saw the most perfect moon i have seen in a long time. it was immaculately round, milky white, and if i really looked, i could see the american flag staked just a small distance away from one of the craters. a bit more concentration and i could've seen chang-e and her rabbit. i swear. too bad about having to keep my eyes on the road most of the time for the safety of the other passengers in the car.

at the counter of the Asian grocery store today, a cursory glance revealed MOONCAKES! lots of overpriced ones at that, too. but being that starved-of-home-food girl i can sometimes get, i parted [albeit reluctantly at first] with AUD10.50 for a lotus paste-filled mooncake with 1 yolk. which was devoured in one sitting with immense (and almost indecent) delight from the flatmate and myself. accompanied by glasses of oolong tea. aah.

now i am starting to crave for the bing pi ones, wrapped in pandan-flavoured snow skin. anyone knows where to get good ones over here in melbs?

i'll be over the moon then. that's where you'll find me.

with chang-e and her pet rabbit.

flashers aren't always bad, really

while i have never encountered a flasher before, i am told by some friends that the best response is to Point and Laugh. uncontrollably. a friend once encountered one between the shelves of books in a library. suitably unnerved by that incident, she has resolved to practice the Point and Laugh technique, so she will be prepared should she have the misfortune to stumble upon another flasher.

last night, as i was driving back past midnight after a good night out, i encountered my first flasher. it was on a rather deserted stretch of blackburn road, after exiting great eastern freeway. on such residential roads, the 2 lanes make it difficult for the driver of a cornered vehicle to maneouvre his/her way out of a tight situation. not to mention, too, that the 60kmph limit and the fact that it is past midnight would make any vehicle easy prey for the police-patrol-car-waiting-in-a-dark-side-road.

having heard stories of this particular type of flashers before, i was instantly alert when a driver coming from the opposite direction flashed his headlights at me. apparently, he had seen a police-patrol-car-waiting-in-a-dark-side-road, and this was a alert for oncoming vehicles to slow down, or else suffer the consequences. previously existing only in conversations with friends, this signalling held a new significance for me as i (sorry for the cliche) felt the love from a stranger on the street.

having been away from singapore, where the authorities feel the need to dictate random acts of kindness during a week known as national kindness week, i have to commend the strength of the community spirit within inhabitants of this new land i have inadvertantly found myself. while i chide myself for it, i have been guilty of finding pleasure in others getting a ticket for speeding or parking offences. "lucky it's not me. they deserve it!" i often think to myself. horrible. not proud of it.

after checking my speed, i saw there was indeed a police-patrol-car-waiting-in-a-dark-side-road, waiting like a predator for its prey. maybe they have a quota to meet every weekend. feeling so grateful for the warning signal, i thought i'd flash at the next oncoming car i saw, to pass it on. aah. warm fuzzy feelings. glancing at my rear view mirror when i'd stopped on red at the traffic light, i saw the flashing blue-and-red lights. someone got caught. it's uncanny how the behaviour can be analogous to the lioness watching and biding her time for her prey. and how helpless the prey is, once caught by the predator. it's all so discovery channel-like that i felt a slight sense of deja-vu.

but i'm glad i got flashed at. this time.

and that i got to flash at someone else in return too.

TRENT! TRENT! TRENT!

image courtesy of www.mtv.com

am no longer a rock concert virgin. last night's at Rod Laver Arena was fan-freaking-tastic! ok. rule #1: cool fans don't gush. but now i understand why people pay exorbitant prices for concert tickets, and why CDs are just not good enough sometimes. the massive pit of gyrating bodies, the beat that reverberates in your ribs, the suspense of waiting for the next song, the screaming at a particular favourite, the unstoppable waving of arms, the lighters, the chorus of synchronised shouting-out of the words of each song.

the opening act was baaad. felt a bit sorry for them as the crowd hurled expletives at them from all sides, but once Trent and friends got on stage, you knew the energy was different. electrifying! can't remember the set list. but it definitely included Head Like A Hole, Something I Can Never Have, Starfucker Inc., Reptile, The Day The World Went Away, Hurt! whee!

how does one write such tortured songs? what goes through one's mind as these words, chords, rhythms and timbres are combined? amazing how one creates each instrumental layer, records, then superimposes. narcissistic mao just told me that he plays all the instruments himself. so talented. the voice becomes but another part of the tapestry of woven sounds. it reminds me of mike oldfield's tubular bells.

some acts sound better left to be sampled on CDs, like say, avril lavigne. but nine inch nails. is best heard live.

you could have it all
my empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

-trent reznor, nine inch nails, hurt

'tis the season for red-and-whites

for those brought up in cosy little neighbourhood schools in Singapore (myself included), we have been indoctrinated with a sense of national pride as National Day arrives. we are given a uniform-free day to dress up in another kind of uniform: that of red-tops and white-bottoms. it's a wonder why we did not confuse ourselves with the indonesian flag, without the crescent and the 5 white stars. somehow, i've always noticed the red pentagon in the negative space contained by the stars... but i digress. national day was rather akin to Christmas, where one would get warm fuzzy feelings for our nation-state. embroidered or printed with the words 'National Day' (insert year and name of school), gifts for students included practical memorabilia such as files, waistpouches, towels and caps. there would be unity within the student body as we belted out Count on me, Singapore, Stand Up for Singapore, One People One Nation One Singapore and even the Tamil song Muneiru Valiba. such nation-loving propaganda for fellow Singaporeans. no wonder we were single-minded about our National flag despite our attire lacking the requisite moon-and-stars combo.

as i grew older in secondary school, as with any uniformed group, participating in the National Day Parade became a much anticipated rite of passage. being chosen for the GOH (Guard of Honour) contingent for school celebratios was a feather in a cap to any power-hungry, acceptance-yearning 15 year old. being asked to march for the National Day Parade live! in front of the crowd! with tv-cameras! was considered an honour. it was many a kid's dream, sitting in front of the tv at home, to be able to represent the country on the big field of the Padang or the National Stadium.

drill training for the event in August started as early as April/May. 2 months of intensive extra drilling besides what we'd already received during the regular ones at respective schools. it was through these sessions that we got to mix with the troops from other companies. in July, there would be weekly dry-runs at various air fields before proceeding to the real deal at the Padang. i remember standing at senang diri (ie. at ease) for nearly half an hour - it seemed like hours then - before we were given the command to move off to the field. and the horror at having to use the male toilets as female ones were somehow unavailable. the Khong Guan biscuit rations and Kentucky Fried Chicken snackboxes we were given every week to help sustain us for nearly 2 hours' worth of alternating sedias and senang diris as dignitaries, cabinet ministers, the prime minister and finally, the president arrived. and the multi-lingual songs that followed!

it was inevitable that a few people would faint from the heat or fatigue. witnessing it was a shock, and as the medics rushed over, i used to pray fervently that this embarrassing incident never happened to me. the shock was worse if the pale person laying dazedly on the ground was a friend. it's like watching someone you know dying.

there was a point in my life i wished i could be part of the Colour Party, for carrying the flags bearing the National emblems seemed the coolest thing to do. i remember too, wishing one day i'd be great enough to be the Parade Commander (and i loved that mobile network coverage tv-advertisement that aired as National Day grew closer, featuring the Parade Commander practicing his commands in the Stadium, and a lower-ranked officer giving him a call from somewhere outside the Stadium, telling him he could be heard loud and clear). but i think they only ever choose guys to perform those duties. so for me, those are lost causes.

on the eve of National Day, the prime minister would deliver his national day rally. only until its significance dawned upon me (when i needed to amass as much general/world knowledge for General Paper) in Junior College did i not dismiss it as a lot of political waffle. it was something i associated with my dad, who would insist on listening to the 'boring old talk'. i particularly like how a lecturer described it: a goodie bag for Singaporeans.

while the flatmate has joined the Singapore Association at her Uni for tonight's viewing of NDP '05 (i understand it's the 40th, so there is even more reason than usual for nation-loving fanfare), i am at home. while i am labelled atas (ie. high class) by her for refusing to join in the festivities, i still believe the pride i have as a citizen does not have to be worn on my sleeve.

can't i be quietly proud of the case-study nation-state singlehandedly brought about by the iron will of mr Lee Kwan Yew and his fellow cabinet ministers? i certainly cannot find a place like home anywhere else in the world.

- - - - - - - - - - -
edited to add:

i just found out about mr brown's new onesingaporeminute meme. that sure makes me miss singapore a lot more than just watching the NDP.

these familiar shots give me a sense of intimacy with the island-state i acknowledge as 'home'.

i've got yummy cookies, but i also want ji pa ban*

ji pa ban = a million dollars, in the hokkien dialect



made a really excellent batch of lemonade cookies yesterday! and i made them really small, so the flatmate and i have been popping them nonstop into our mouths! the cookie recipe is here, and also, the recipe for the lemonade concentrate.

the flatmate sat and stared in front of the oven, keeping a watchful eye over the bits that were baking. love the smell that baking cookies leaves in the house. it makes the house feel safe and cosy. very housewifey, but happy.

because it's singa's national day (HAPPY 40th BIRTHDAY, SINGAS!) and i had to go to school, i'm feeling kinda sorry for myself. and lo! and behold! what i came across when surfing aimlessly (via ang ku kueh): great hokkien song that's put a smile on my face! except now the idiotic flatmate is singing it incessantly. and the tune's stuck in my head.

i don't understand much hokkien, so it's very helpful that there was that literal translation to english, albeit very singlish. bet that guy's going to be really popular after this post! :)

just a short one. i'm supposed to be getting work done for tomorrow's presentation. the day after national day. just how great is that.

water, water everywhere

it's funny, how i was talking to my mom via Skype and she was telling me how there was a typhoon that had been forecasted for taipei today. and also for singapore. sorry, that wasn't so funny - the funny bit comes here: it's raining kitties and doggies over here in melbs too (with less that 1 minute's worth of hail this afternoon to boot)! brings to mind a picture of a fat long, wiggly raincloud hovering over an imaginary line that joins melbs, singas and taipei. ermm... i'm not so hot at geography, but are these 3 places kinda along the same longitude? *shrugs*

well. jabber about the weather aside, all the water outside my window reminded me (in a kinda non-related way) to drink more water. the usual daily intake is supposed to be 2litres, no? my flatmate is constantly paranoid that her kidneys will fail if she is water-deprived. as a result, we boil lots of water in one day.

i used to be an avid water-hater. it was fine as long as it was outside my body (the only exception being bath-time. i h.a.t.e.d. taking baths!). i'd love to swim, wade in the pond for tadpoles, chase the waves crashing on the beach, and splash around in the bathtub - but not drink it. in a vain attempt to ensure i had sufficient water to start off the day, my dad started filling my cartooned glass with a quarter-part of hot water, and another quarter-part of cooled water (the more traditional chinese still hold staunchly to the belief that having something cold first thing in the morning is detrimental to one's system). i say it was a vain attempt, because, spoilt as i was, i soon learnt to assert my dislike for plain water in the mornings.

my dad soon found a loophole in my refusal for water. he diluted Ribena (a blackcurrant drink full of vitamin C!) concentrate with the half-glass of water every morning. that way, he managed to achieve the seemingly impossible task of getting my to drink the water AND take some form of vitamin C (my parents fought a losing battle trying to make me take my vitamin C tablets/chewable pastilles too, but that's another story altogether).

no idea why i recalled this gesture from my dad just out of the blue. he was a person who travelled frequently in his job. in my growing-up years, it would be nearly 6 mths' worth of days that he was away from home. and now, in supposed-retirement, he's away from home 11mths out of a year. huzzah! ...right. but that was a really endearing thing he did for me, and though (and maybe, because) he was not around a lot of the time, the ribena every morning was special to me.

it is still pouring outside. i have just guzzled 2 glasses of water.

a change will do you good

have been caught up with work recently (in my case, this is a good thing), and as a result, have spent many hours holed up in stuffy libraries filled with countless old books. and when i'm not in the library, i'm stuck either at home, or at the studio at the Uni.

what i find interesting, is for an easily-distracted person like me, a simple change of clothes does the trick. never crawling out of bed before 10am, my unproductivity can stretch limitlessly until the "feeling" hits me: to get some work done. but if i change out of my jammies (i usually spend the day at home wearing my pyjamas), it helps gets me in the mood for work.

what's really disturbing as well is how google-dependent i have become for matters of research. the internet has revolutionised the way for doing research! with the marvellous assistance of a search engine, one is able to have thousands upon thousands of webpages literally at one's fingertips. wonder what manner of horrors academics had to go through for information a decade ago! the library is only -so- limited.

in fact, about 10% of the time, the books i require are either out-of-print, or stored in some repository, and getting them out would mean days, and even weeks of waiting. i'm not fussed, but it bothers me that the very book i can't lay my hands on may contain the information for the inspiration i so desperately need!

what the internet has done, is to reduce information to bite-sized nuggets, and saving information has never been easier. via the amazing advent of file transfers, images, music, ideas and information are now readily available commodities for the consumer. even my grandpa orders books online from Amazon.

the other thing i cannot live without these days is my digicam. it used to be that taking photos to document work/findings/research involved careful planning to avoid wasting any money on developing a totally useless roll of film. now i go snap! snap! click! click! so effortlessly, and proceed to delete the images that haven't turned out well. no sweat!

i have not fully appreciated the benefits of the Information Age until now. being a kid brought up on Consumerism, i have, as always, taken things for granted. BUT. there are limits to the wonders of the world wide web, and these days, i find myself going back to the library catalogues for previously published papers, and good old books that i can hold in my hand to read in the sun.

the wondrous things a change can effect!