I have used the time to keep counsel with myself. I am taking longer than I planned to. But it was necessary, and it has been good.
Now I will be away for two weeks.
I will be ready to resume posting when I get back.
I am otherwise doing well, and have been busy with various friends and activities.
But more of everything later.
Remember this dress? Remember I said I absolutely, definitely, resolutely, hated it? I could find nothing to like about the dress; I even called it hideous.
Well, I don't anymore. Hate it, that is. Somebody is buying it off me. And all of a sudden, I feel a tinge of guilt that I was not nice to it.
But I know the new owner will sayang it. So bye bye dress. You will look so pretty on the nice lady.
I will miss you from time to time.
I never expect to hear from her again.
I was wrong. She emailed me, asking if I remembered her, asking how we are, it's been a l-o-n-g while since we last heard from each other, do we still go to Bali, to Paul Ropp etc.
As if the unpleasant incident about trying to borrow money from me never happened!
She tells me she and husband are back in Bali, he has retired from work, and she has a rental villa available whenever we next visit Bali. Out of curiosity, I looked up the other villa that was to have been put up for sale all those years ago when she desperately needed money. It's still there, available for rent by contacting her or her husband.
So, I replied to her saying yes, I remember her, we are fine, it's been a long time, we still go to Bali and to Paul Ropp.
And, yes, I'll let her know when next I visit Bali.
You know I will do no such thing.
It will always pain me to see my women friends continue to work at being everything to everybody.
These words are dedicated to you:
I am having a hard time sorting out the Lunar New Year days and dates. It has everything to do with the first day of the LNY falling on Thursday 3rd February. I cannot explain why new year being early and starting in the middle of the week confuses the heck out of me.
To add to the confusion, my English educated friends choose this time of the year to show off their non-existent Chinese-ness. There is something very jarring about the way they switch between referring to the Chinese Lunar calendar and the Gregorian one. They mention sam sap man, nin chor yat, nin chor ee, etc, then in the next breath they say that means the 2nd hor, 3rd hor, the 4th hor.
The numbers 30, then 1 through 15 are involved in the LNY. But do the people who are half baked in Chinese and English know what days they are referring to?
Maybe they do. Which means maybe I don't.
So, on some day during the eve of and during the 15 days of the Lunar New Year, I am sure I will see you at the right place on the right day.
Gong Xi Fai Cai :)
What should someone with spare money lying around do to ensure the money value isn't eroded by inflation over time?
Some suggest buying investment properties. But really, when the market plunges, real estate will not move.
Others suggest stocks and shares, foreign currencies and the like. These are more liquid and can be disposed of in small chunks, but share the same fate as real estate in a financial downturn - you dispose of these assets in small lots at a loss.
There is no such thing as investment diamonds and wines for the simple reason that there isn't an open market to trade in them.
I think the people who buy gold have it right. In times of plenty, the gold they own is jewelry. In times of lean, the gold jewelry is sold for its gold content, which unlike diamonds, have a fixed market price at any given time.
I don't wear much fine jewelry. And there is no point buying jewelry to hoard.
I think it is cool to buy gold bars and use them around the home. The smaller pieces make great paperweights; the chunkier ones are excellent door stops. Heh.
Like the proverbial bad penny, they keep showing up.
The old boy of the dread couple from KL sent us an invitation to his 70th birthday in a stuffy country club in Penang, attire "as formally as you like." I suspect many of us are reluctant invitees who still remember vividly how painful his birthday party was the year before. So, as ungracious as it is, many of us declined the invitation. We should feel properly awful that he threw a party and no one came. But we couldn't bear to be tortured again so soon, you understand.
Then I get an email from the screwball woman back in the US telling me how "although we are so very far away, you are very near in my thoughts." She will be "coming to Singapore in February next year for a vacation and hope to be able to see each one of you while I am there." Sigh. I can still hope that she loses all our phone numbers...
You know how the saying goes that bad things come in three's?
I don't think I can deal with her, or her, or them.
I am sure there is no truth whatsoever to the silly saying. It is silly!
At first the couple looked like they are people to chum around with. Like us, they are not tethered to jobs, half grown kids or elderly ailing parents. Like us, they travel at leisure for leisure and explore novel dining experiences.
Then we find we like them less each time we see them:
They ask intrusive questions like "How long have you two been married?"
They ask intrusive questions like "So how long actually have you two been married?" every time we see them.
They ask intrusive questions of our friends like "How can your friend go build an inn in LiJiang?"
And keep doggedly asking the same questions each time we see them.
We and our friends do not have lives that cannot stand up to scrutiny, but we value discretion and privacy. We do not feel we need to disclose everything; we certainly do not need to answer questions that we consider uncomfortably interrogative in nature.
So we start to pull away from too much involvement with them. We pulled out of going with them on a road trip to Lisboa and exotic Spanish towns. I think we saved ourselves a lot of grief.
So our drop rate for suitable company is higher than our pick up rate. So our recruitment exercise to find travel and dining companions continue.
So what?
She was a new arrival. She wanted to be plugged in to the social scene to have friends to go places and do fun stuff with. I didn't want to put in the effort because, well, she just wasn't my type (if that was a reason). I introduced her to my friend who I know can lead her into activities and groups. I wanted to get her out of my hair. What was I thinking?
This much I knew:
Husband resigned from his job to take up the posting here.
She resigned from her work to come here with him.
They put up their home for rent.
They gave their family car to their daughter.
They will be here for the next 8 years or more.
Two short months later, the picture perfect plan fell apart. The husband was no longer needed in his job. They have 2 weeks to pack up and pack out at their own expense. They get to stay at the rented apartment till the end of the month, and they would be on their own for the remaining 6 days.
Apparently there was no contract. The husband came out here on the say-so of a former colleague.
Alarm bells went off in my head. What kind of people in their/my age group would quit their established and senior job positions to take up a posting in a new-strange-foreign land with no contract?
The woman was hysterical, hurt and angry. The husband acted like he was defeated and lost. My friend was very sympathetic and I was feeling like a heel for not feeling anything remotely resembling sympathy.
When the dust settled, this was what I knew:
They leave on scheduled date.
They stay at a friend's home for 5 days and check into the Marina Sands on the last 2 days.
He has a job back with the company he left, but at a more junior level.
She will look for a job.
They rent a room from a friend till the tenants finish their lease early next year.
Another friend will lend the husband a pick-up truck so he has transport to get to work.
She wants him to put out feelers and let it be known they want to get back here.
I held my breath till departure day. I haven't heard anything from her. I can safely assume she and husband have left.
I let out a sigh of relief. I hope she loses all our phone numbers. I hope I have seen the last of her.
I will still be open to helping people I've just met. But I will most certainly give them the third degree. And I won't palm them off so quickly to someone else.
Old people.
They can be a font of wisdom, the road map to life's precious secrets.
Or they can be a pain in the proverbial.
There is this nice small neighbourhood shopping mall. There is a bench facing the exit door to the multi-storey car park and a nearby elevator. A resting area for weary shoppers and bored husbands.
Three old people plonk their fossilized asses on this bench to pass the day, every day. Never mind that they deprive weary shoppers and bored husbands of a rest area. What is unacceptable is that they find the fully air-conditioned mall too cold for their comfort, and have taken to wedging the exit door open so they get a mix of cold and warm air!
One day, I decided that this wasteful practice shall cease. That day, I walked past the fossils and closed the door. One old codger immediately and huffily got up, walked past me, and wedged the door open again. I said as politely as I could manage that the door should not be left open because airconditioned air is being sucked out. He waved his arthritic gnarled fingers in my face and angrily said the door should be left open because old people have problem opening the door with their hands full of grocery. I said he could get up and open the door when old people with groceries needed to walk out that door. He berated me about talking to him with no respect. (Hey, I only suggested he should open the door for hapless old people.)
I have filed a complaint with the management office of the building about these cranky old people and the open door. The somebody-in-charge mumbled something about looking into it.
I have been back in that building many times since. The fossils are still parked in their favourite seat in the house, staring blankly in front of them, as the cold air rushes out the open door.
Old people. Mostly they are a pain in the proverbial.
As perverse as it may sound, I do appreciate the skill and intelligence that go into crafting a good con job. I admire a superb con job where artful deceit is used to draw in the mark by appealing to his/her sense of vanity, avarice, self importance...
But this?? In ungrammatical English no less? Oh puhleeze! This is so stupid I dare say the Nigerians and Lottery Sweepstakes give a better spiel:
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What did she call me for?
She is a work colleague from another lifetime ago. And like most friendships forged in workplaces, there is a hiatus in contact when we made our exodus and got caught up in our new and usually broadened horizons.
Over the last decade, I've seen her a handful of times. Always when one of the former colleagues blew into town. It seemed to be the only times we'd have a reason to get together.
So when she called out of the blue, I was completely taken aback, and steeled myself for some really bad news (sorry, I am such a pessimist).
She: How are you?
Me: Very well. And how are you?
She: Okay. What are you doing now?
Me: Now? As in this very minute?
She: Yes.
Me (duh?): Talking to you.
She: Are you still bellydancing?
Me: Yes.
She: Oh. You enjoy it?
Me (duh?): Yes.
The stop-go conversation went on for a very painfully long ten minutes. At the end of which I said I'd sms her places and teachers to go to if she's thinking of belly dance. I'd even go with her to get her started if it would help.
I sent the belly dance information last night. It was tedious tapping out the message on the phone keypad, but she is completely computer and net illiterate.
This morning I got her sms reply, "OK. Thanks."
(Duh??)
What did she really call me for?
I settled in for the night and was watching Bohemian Rhapsody.
Surprisingly, it is more than just another documentary on history, culture or travel. It is a well researched and coherently edited life story of Paris narrated by a very telegenic Sandrine Voillet in an engaging and intelligent fashion.
And, when I least expected it, I heard the long forgotten yet immediately familiar opening bars of the most beautiful duet ever composed by a man for his muse:
By then, I actually rate the prgramme as intellectual even:)
There are many alternatives to wealth creation besides investing in the stock market. There are bank-bundled products, foreign currencies, land banks. And for the uber-snobbish, there is investment in fine, rare, collectible wines.
Proponents say wine investment outperforms the stock market and is recession proof.
Detractors say wine is not an investment.
Then there is this.
I was at a MRT pickup/dropoff stand that everybody uses as a taxi stand.
I was next in line when a young lady asked from behind me if I was waiting for a cab. I turned to her, smiled and said yes. She did what any well mannered regular person would do: she smiled back and proceeded to stand behind me.
In the next minute, I heard a timid voice from behind saying to the young woman that he was there before her. I expected the woman, who just a short while ago, was all sweetness and light (and sane), to tell the man something like, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you." And switch places with the guy.
But noooo... In a flash, her face contorted into a snarl. Then, with fangs bared and neck veins popping, she screamed into his face, "WHAT FOR YOU TELL ME?! GET IN FRONT OF ME LOR."
I exaggerate not when I say the poor guy froze, not knowing what next to do. Sigh. He looked pitiful! I turned, smiled at the stunned bloke and said to him, "Get behind me, ok?" Oh, he made this big curve of a path to put himself between the woman and me, keeping the angry shrew within his nervous sight . He must have been really scared and wanted to give her as wide a berth as possible.
I looked at the woman again as I got into my cab. She was just standing there, looking at nothing in particular in front of her. Acting like the violent outburst of invective never took place.
And I thought, that's what it means when an animal is described as "of unsound temperament". When the animal is all purr-ry and cuddly one minute, and, in the next, has snapped and bitten half your face off.
It's called unstable when referring to humans.
I felt chill down my spine. I was scared. Really. Truly. Scared.
I listened to her heartbreak story with disbelief, as I watched her face crumple with dismay and her body slump with defeat.
She had asked her spiritual guru (whatever that is) about her future and her happiness with her partner. The guru told her there is a woman in her path.
She confronted the partner (compulsive-impulsive woman that she is), saying she had set a PI on him, and she knew he was seeing another woman. She hoped to hear him deny the allegation.
Instead, he (silly like most men) blurted that he was sorry, the other woman didn't mean anything, and it was only a one time fling etc etc.
I am numbed to think that the mutterings from a stranger, even if he is a spiritual guru (please tell me what that means) can have such devastating effect.
And couldn't "the other woman" just as easily have been an overly possessive mother, a petulant sister, a crazy cousin? Couldn't the know-it-all obi-wan have been more specific?
But the damage is done. It will be a long road to recovery.
I hate how the mutterings of a guru can turn into a self fulfilling prophecy.
does this man's standing up for this man's lascivious behaviour make sense to anybody?
gong xi fa cai and happy valentine's day!
Had a fun time in New York City in spite of the snow blizzard and freezing minus degrees C. Am now in drizzly seattle with temperatures in the mid teens C.
Will be home in a week's time. I'm ready for that too.
I am not fond of cynical jokes about marriage, but this one manages to be clever :)
The girlfriend is a busy woman. She is single, holds a full-time job, and has an aged mother living with her.
And she gives dinner parties regularly. Always home-cooked. Always labour intensive. Always done with great deliberation and graciousness.
At the end of one of her dinner parties, I find myself in the lift with another of the evening's guests. For small social chit-chat, I said that was so nice of the hostess to have gone through so much trouble for us. The guest gruffly replied, "Oh, it's nothing. She needed to de-stress by cooking."
I was shocked and dismayed by her total dismissal of the friend's effort and hospitality.
Thankfully, we reached the ground floor, and I need not say anything more.
Hopefully, I need not see her again.
Definitely, I will never see her at my dining table eating my home-cooked meal which I had expended time and effort to lay out.
