Reflect and Ponder on Reflecting and Pondering

Like every other human being in this world, there comes a time when one tends to reflect and ponder on the serious stuff that was etched into one’s life experiences. I do that too, every once in a while, except that this time, I happen to think that “reflecting on life what ifs and what-happened –and-I shouldn’t have-done-that-but-did-that-instead” without any concrete action to address what you actually reflected on is just a bloody waste of time!

I don’t know where all that overwhelming feelings came from, but the waste-of-time factor that came from pondering or reflecting (whichever you prefer) and not being able to do something about it at that point in time was so strong that I felt so compelled to stop pondering further.

My guess is, that tipping point came after months and months and months of useless pondering of my “Maybe Baby” project which I mentioned earlier in one of my Thought Pieces posts.

And after enough reflecting and one that was enough to annoy me of my own incessant waste-of-time pondering, I decided that it was time to move along. By that, I mean go and do something about it.  

So, in the last month or so as I waited out my employment notice, I battled my insecurities. I shamelessly contacted people I know and people I don’t know to get some sense of owning a domain, doing a blog migration, contemplated (and actioned!) on web design overhaul as well as trying to get into the real technicalities of behind the scenes of blogging (which has proven to be too technical for my super simple and un-technical mind).

It has been yet another learning curve. Before I knew it, I committed to contract a very capable and dynamic web designer based in Singapore to help me with my new site and the works behind it. Sounds completely crazy and out of the blue, but the fact that I finally did something about my senseless pondering and get it done was BIG. For me.

I figured, except for parting with an amount of money as a long-term investment, I got nothing to lose. If anything, the new site will look fresh, swanky and I can use it for the kids’ unfortunate inheritance - both Silver Bullet and me have got no real money for them when we die.

While waiting for that to happen, I came to a conclusion that I learnt something valuable from my entire pondering-and-doing-it-for-real experience:

• People don’t always respond. Keep trying, anyway. Have a thick skin. BIG, SUCCESSFUL bloggers or web-designers will certainly ignore you, but one kind soul out there will eventually respond. 

• If I didn’t try, I will never know. And if I fail, at least I tried. Having an always-learning mindset is crucial to my mental health and the goodness of my soul.

• Do not let other people get the better of me and let them make me feel down about myself. Getting an ally who really cares and sincerely support my cause, helps boost my confidence and morale. 

• I have always advocated that it is important to engage with people younger than you, as I think they would be able to guide you to things that you are not familiar with. More than you would ever care to know. 

• I don’t need to explain myself as all I really need to do is just say what I need to say. There will always be some nasty soul twisting my words around and misinterpret what I say. 

• If, in my lifetime thus far I have observed all rules dished out to me, I don’t think I’ll get to anywhere. In this case, I have put my rebellious streak to good use.

• The GUT is almost always never wrong. Use it to guide your instinct with decision making.

Last but not least, stop fricking pondering and just bloody do it. You won’t always get it right the first time, but it’s a start. You have crossed over that invisible line of go and no-go.

With all that in my back pocket, I am feeling really excited with the imminent birth of a new site in a matter of months.

Please, stay tuned. :)

How I roll: A new chapter

September 4^th, 2013 marked a new chapter in my professional life. It marked a new beginning to a rather unplanned, but imminent end from my previous job which would likely change the course of my life journey from here on. A clean slate once again, a new adventure and a flight path into the unknown.

It has been barely 3 days with my new job, and despite at least 5 years of absence, that sense of warm, genuine sincerity and attachment to some of the familiar people in the organization felt very reassuring.  I still have that springs on my heels I felt months ago when this new job conversation started and more than ever, I feel like I fit right in. There’s no “treading” about and I really do feel like I am just picking up where I have left off. I am still not sure if that is actually a good thing, but most gratifying of all, it feels like I’m back “home” and it still feels oh-so-right.

I have got some work cut-out for me. Already, there are issues to fix, team to set up, stake-holders to please and human dynamics to suss out; amongst other things. There are things to learn, and most importantly, a whole lot of things to unlearn. It really is not about how much you already know, rather, it is about what you don’t know, find out, adapt and go on from there.

With new swanky gadgets at my disposal, I certainly am ready to roll!

Damn Lotus Notes!

Eid Mubarak 2013

The last time we were back in Singapore to celebrate the festivities of Hari Raya with my family was 2 years ago when Spud was only 13 months old. We missed last year because Squirt was only a couple of months old (I didn’t feel like I was up for traveling with a newborn), and this year, all the four of us made it there and back - thankfully still sane and in one piece.

The trip wasn’t as stressful as I thought it would be, and although Spud did throw one of her worst ever temper-tantrums every other day, we managed to get through the week without me completely losing my head. It was also a novelty for us to watch the kids amuse each other and laughing their guts off when they were put together in the same room at bedtime – something which neither we nor the kids have done before.  The first two nights were the roughest as both went on a crying spree at the same time refusing to sleep even though they were knackered. But as the days went by, hearing bucket loads laughter coming from behind closed door after we kissed them goodnight was pretty endearing. The kids eventually fell asleep after about an hour of mucking around (amazing how they can amuse each other, even though Squirt can barely talk!) and of course, not without us butting into the room every 5 minutes and finally threatening to take their bed-buddies away.

Despite a rather hectic schedule, we managed to do our rounds of mandatory visits to the relatives, caught up with a few precious long-time friends over for lunch at my parents’, had our Sambal Stingray at Newton and squeezed in a trip to the zoo.  Spud even managed to score herself a bonus trip to the Bird Park with her Nya-i when we had to do some errands on one of the days.

The silly thing I did was to forget to charge the battery of my digital camera before we left Bangkok and because I cannot be bothered to attempt taking pictures from my mobile, we don’t quite have that many pictures to share this time, save for these few!

Spud and Squirt with their Uncle at the zoo

Spud & Squirt flanking their cousin

Smiling Spud with 2 apprehensive little babies!

Squirt trying to engage his cousin in a conversation

A picture evidence for Spud that we passed the Rhino which she insisted on seeing.. She fell asleep as I wore her on my back.

Squirt falling asleep on his Nya-i on our way to the airport

The week had flew by so fast and because we were either chasing kids or running after schedule all the time, it felt like I was zooming in and out of a dream. Now that we are back in Bangkok, it felt kind of surreal that we have survived this trip given the circumstances.

This year, I missed a good friend whom I always look forward to see during our annual Hari Raya gathering. I had thought of her.  I remember how much she enjoyed my Mom’s cooking and Hari Raya goodies, and at the same time, it saddened me that I would never see her again in this life. My eyes welled up with tears when I stumbled upon her comments on a blog post I had published in 2011 while I was trying to recall what I had written for the last Hari Raya two years back. It is hard to believe that she was gone. I still feel the warmth in her voice, and while my eyes had involuntarily turned glassy as I read what she wrote, her cheerful and playful tone also made me smile. May the sun always shine bright on your soul, Vicky. I have missed you.

In the spirit of festivities while doing our part for the less fortunate and remembering the departed regardless of race or religion, here’s us wishing everyone a (fairly belated) Happy Eid Mubarak and wishing you a blessed Syawal.

Spud turns THREE

[Warning: A very lengthy post]

Dear Spud,

I hate to have to break this to you, but, you see, as our first born, you have been our little experiment. You have to understand that your Papa and I are both rookies at this parenting thing. We don’t always know what we are doing, we are more likely to be wrong in more ways than one, yet insist that we are (mostly) right and with you, we are always, always, always on a steep learning curve.

It feels like it was only a month ago that we celebrated your second birthday. And suddenly, just like that, you turned THREE right before our eyes. It hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbow all these 3 years (you made sure of that with your big personality), but despite us being such novice at parenting, we believe that we haven’t screwed up too bad so far.

We marvel at how much you have blossomed into this social butterfly and well-adjusted little tot who is just curious about the world. You have endless supply of energy and I get exhausted just watching you bouncing off the walls. Being quiet and meek are never your strongest points. You are boisterous to the point of being clumsy at times - falling over, getting cuts and bruises all over the place just because you weren’t looking while walking or running.  With the bruises you earned yourself sometimes, I do wonder if there may be people out there who thought that your mother may have been smacking you way too much!

Because you are so quick at grasping things and seem more mature than you are for your age, I sometimes forget that you are barely three years old. Just about a month ago, you surprised us by rattling off your Papa’s phone number while we were at the cashier as we were paying for groceries - all 10 digits of ‘em! You have always demonstrated to us that you have an incredible memory and this recent incident completely blew us away. You were so happy that you got it right and you repeated it effortlessly. We will not be showing you how to dial those numbers on the phone just yet or you’ll be wanting to call Papa every 2 minutes. Since then, I've been rattling off my phone number to you every now and then, as I do think that it is only fair you know your Mama's phone number too, just in case. And, within a week or so, you surprised us again with your incredible memory!

Like your Papa, you have turned out to be quite the chatterbox. You talk about everything and nothing, and you say what is on your mind with ease. Sometimes you get frustrated if you cannot articulate it, but you keep on trying (although not without temper tantrums). You repeat what you hear so often these days, and more than ever, we realised that we have to be very careful of the words which come out from our mouths.   

You are into the princess phase for several months now (a phase which I find to be extremely annoying) and telling everyone you pass by, whether they know you or not, that you are a princess. I smile my wry smile (and secretly roll my eyeballs) every time somebody eggs you on it, and each time I reminded you that you are not, you again insisted that you are. I guess you can keep working on that. I can only hope that you get out of this phase soon because I am so done with this princess crap.

But then again, I realise this is not about me. This is you trying to create your own identity and find your ways about the world. I need to respect that, understand that you are going through a phase and in fact, I should fuel your creative imagination. I promise you I am all for it… as long as you stay away from all those princessy, girly crap which I equate to being unnecessarily high-maintenance. OK, OK. I will bite the bullet for as long as it takes, but sorry, but your Mama has got her quirks,too.

These days, you are very quick to “appease” us with your ready answer of “Already” every time we ask you to brush your teeth or  put on your dress to name a few. Clearly, you haven’t quite figure out yet that your mother is actually able to see if you have put on that piece of clothing you said you already put on. But that’s OK, you are only 3. You will eventually be able to figure out that your Mama can actually see through you soon enough.

You love singing and not a day goes by without you belting out a song or two every 5 minutes. Whenever we are in the car, you would say, “I don’t know how to sing”, every time the music came on the stereo.  You sound annoyed because you cannot sing along. There have been moments when your Papa realised that he’d have to skip certain songs because the lyrics were just not meant for kids in the backseat. But be patient, my child. Very soon, you’ll probably be belting to Green Day, Pearl Jam, Pink Floyd and the likes of those classics!

Darling Spud, I know that I have never been your most favourite person. You rejecting me when you were 10 months old for over a year was a very tough pill for me to swallow.  I keep asking myself what I have done so wrong that made you repel away from me.  I want to go into that little head of yours and find the very source to understand what I can do better to make it right. Every morning I wake up hoping that you would come to me first, but that’s like asking for a cow to produce chocolate milk au natural. You would be upset if you don’t see your Papa but would think of nothing if you don’t see me. Sometimes I just want to disappear, feeling unworthy to be a mother, especially when you blatantly refuse to allow me to even hold you, let alone touch you, when you crawl into our bed. When you fell or hurt yourself, you refused to come to me for comfort even when I was sitting right next to you. Instead, you went berserk if I tried to comfort you and you would run away as you search for your Papa, even though he wasn't in plain sight. While I try my best to keep my cool and telling myself that it was nothing personal, I can’t help but feel hurt every time you push me away. People tell me that I could only smother you with love, kindness and to never give up, and I tell them I’m trying so darn hard. Every.damn.single.time. It’s always easy for other people to make comments about what I should or shouldn’t do when rejection happens because they are not the ones dealing with you day-in, day-out…but sometimes Little Spud, it would help if you cut me some slack.

We have come a long way where this rejecting crap is concerned and I believe that both of us are healing in our own little ways. You have actually been quite sweet to me and I thank you for that. Your rejections, if any, have not been as violent, and while there are some pockets of resistance every now and then, I hope these rejections will desist for I am so bloody sick of being rejected and feeling like the “lesser” parent all the time. You are my child, I am your MOTHER and nothing can change that. If you don’t like me, then bloody tough luck – go find another Mummy who would take in all your crap, cook your favourite meals, clothe you and love you all the same the next day!

Now THAT is out of the way….

I know being 3 is tough, Little One (guess what! It ain’t gonna get easier...), and you being Spud would want everything done your way if given a chance. But we know you cannot always have that, and sometimes like us, you would have to suck it up. The last one week had been particularly trying as you upped your ante with your over-the top tantrums that appeared to have come from nowhere. So ridiculous those tantrums were that at one point, I just wanted to burst out laughing because I thought your screaming were just too ridiculous to entertain. You drove your Papa up the wall and tested his patience real good.

Meanwhile, know that I am trying my darnest and as a mother who is on a permanent apprenticeship, I sometimes falter as a parent. I am sure you sometimes cannot understand why I scream at you when you push my buttons. To be honest, I don’t get it either and I blame it on a few screws missing in my head.

I remember that one time I almost, almost, almost hit you with a plastic tail-tub because you made me so, so mad while I was showering you as you were engulfed in one of your epic temper tantrums.  I swear that scared the living daylights out of me!  I then diverted my anger by slamming the tail-tub full-force on the floor…the force was so hard that my hand hurt for a few hours. You cowered away as you wailed, probably frightened at how I reacted. The moment I regained my composure and realised what could have happened had I not been able to control myself, I broke down and drew you close to me. I felt horrible. I realised how much I love you and that I would never want to hurt you in any way. I later apologized to you for my unreasonable behaviour and I am ever so glad that you can be ever so forgiving.

You have taught me so much, my darlin' child. In the last 3 years, our life together is anything but boring. You taught me the virtue of a little bit more patience when I thought I had none left. You taught me that losing my head in a screaming fit isn’t cool because apart from stressing myself out, I achieve nothing from it. You taught me empathy when I thought that I am just an emotional fuckwit and most importantly, you taught me the importance of forgiveness when I thought that I have ruined it all and you let me try again so I can be a better parent.

We don’t know how you will change or who you will eventually become. And till then, we’ll just have to wing it. I want you to have the bestest childhood you could ever have and milk that childhood for what it’s worth. I want you to play till you collapse, sing till your throat is sore, dance like there is no tomorrow, get and give hugs and kisses like your life depends on them and never ever let the pressures of society define who you are. You are learning, and as long as we have blood running through our veins and our hearts are still beating, we will learn and we will soar.

You still have to go to bed by 6.30 pm though.

Happy Birthday, dearest Spud. The best years have yet to come.

A new hope

Something came up quite unexpectedly a while back. While yes, I celebrated my 5^th year anniversary with my current company this year, and yes,I think that the organization has been able to give me enough challenges in the 5 years to a certain extent, I have actually been feeling quite “dead” and under-valued for a while. My soul feels empty and under the new management, I felt that the room for personal growth has come to an end. With the new opportunity in sight, I know in my heart that it is time for me to move on.

In fact, I have, in the last 2 months been serving my notice with my current job. Two weeks after I tendered my resignation, I was told that I had to disclose the specifics to my new employment,citing “non-disclosure confidentiality clause” based on the business that I was working on.

That didn't sound quite right to me, and so, after checking around, it is now safe to say that as an employee, you are not obligated to disclose your future employment regardless of where you are in the world. Unless you have signed a specific indemnity form addressing that, the current employer does not have the right to demand answers as to where their current employee would end up. (and neither do you as a potential candidate is obligated to disclose your salary to your future employer as suggested by this article here).

Although what I will be doing in the future seemed to have escaped to the grapevine, I have refused to officially disclose my future employment. I now have another long, brutal month to go before I’ll be unshackled and boy! Does time ever go so slowly! 90 days to serve your notice is a bloody damn long time; I am convinced that it is a sure-fire way to kill anyone’s soul.

But, there is a ray of hope. In about a month, I will be embarking on a set of brand new challenges with a different, but familiar organization. It is the organization which brought me back to Bangkok more than 8 years ago.

I am not quite sure what I am up against, but this time, it feels like I’m making a strategic move (albeit a slightly lesser package). It feels right. And besides, the draw is that I kind of feel like I am going “home”.

My life journey begins again. Wish me luck!

Recruiting boo-boo

In the industry I work in, it is not uncommon to get a call from head hunters every once in a while. In fact, it is one of the more legit ways to land yourself a job without actually actively looking if you have got the right connections. I think I would be a little worried if no one ever calls me for “a chat” in a span of a year!

In the recent months however, there had seemed to be an influx of calls from recruiters from all over. Not surprising, given that there has been a shortage of talent in the industry of late as employers are constantly looking for people to fill in a position. I also suspect that one of the primary reasons for head hunters calling on me was simply because I had updated my profile in LinkedIn not too long ago.

Now. Being head-hunted can boost one’s ego, and the rule of the thumb is to never, ever pissed off a head-hunter as they would be one of the most important people who could help you through your career. The least you could do is be nice. Loud and clear, kabish?

However, that being said, I wonder if anyone ever felt slighted by a so-called head-hunter who couldn’t really be bothered to do their homework properly before even approaching a candidate and practice proper ethics when calling on one.

Look. I’m not about to sound all high and mighty here, and I do appreciate the work that a head hunter does and I do have the utmost respect for what they do. But, I was truly taken aback, no wait! appalled would be the most appropriate word to use, that a recruiter had sent me a message through someone else’s account. Case in point:

My first thought was: How is using someone else’s account even right? Couldn’t you spend a little bit of time signing up for your own account? Secondly, how do you even dare suggest to “keep in touch on a long-term” basis” when you are not even using your own email address to send me a message? Thirdly, who should I be replying to – you or your colleague?

I probably come from an old school of thoughts when it comes to business ethics, and so the practice of using another person’s account, no matter how casual it sounds, unless super-dire, does not sit very well with me; especially so when it was the initial contact. 

I hate to sound petty, but I was practically seething and was contemplating to ignore the message. However, the rule of thumb when dealing with head hunter prevailed.  It took me a day to think about how I should be replying to him without sounding like I was attacking him, but still able to drive the message that I was none to please as to how he initially conducted business.

I then shot a reply as follows:

He then called me the next day. He apologized and explained that because I was not his direct contact, he could not get through me. To which I thought, what fucking bullshit as all that you needed to do was send me an invitation from your own account! Otherwise, there are many ways to go about it to get to me. (Hello? You know my name, I’m on FB too!)

I can’t remember much of the conversation (I wasn’t interested in the job), and he told me that he’ll get in touch again. I then got an email message from one of his colleagues to explain the job description to me and asked for my CV – making the entire conversation even more confusing as this other person who contacted me had a different company attached to her.  

Some explanations and two correspondences later, I never did hear from them again.

It makes me wonder: is it just me being super old school about the protocols in recruiting or has recruiters become so blasé and nonchalant about how they ought to be conducting business when approaching potential candidates?

While I don’t expect an offer at the initial stage, a polite follow-up would be nice to maintain some sort of cordial relationship rather than just leaving the trail out cold.

This really ought to be one of the more bizarre recruiting experiences I have ever encountered.

My 5 (S'porean) moms story

Whilst I have heard that Thailand harbours a good number of Singaporean expats living in Bangkok, I have only met a handful of them in my last 8 years here; my first being barely 3 years ago.

One could spot them a mile away – usually recognized by their distinct Singaporean accents, and somewhat a holier than thou attitude. Accents and supercilious attitudes aside, I then realised the no-chemistry situation was the main reason as to why I hadn’t bothered forging any friendships with them. The exchange of emails and phone numbers, if any, were done probably done out of politeness than anything else.

The encounter I had with a fellow Singaporean mom a while back left a bad taste in my mouth, and through that not-so- nice experience, I was reminded of the very few Singaporean moms I have met in the last few years here.

Disclaimer: This was written based from my (repressed memory) and personal experience alone, and hence, by no means stereotypical or a true representation of all Singaporeans living abroad. Any similarities with those living or dead are purely accidental.

Singaporean Mom #1:

This was my very first Singaporean mom encounter at a Christmas party only 3 years ago.  We had a brief friendly chatter, and very outwardly, had a few things in common. She is of Malay ethnicity, married to an angmoh (English), has a young daughter (3 years old then, Spud was 1.5 years old), and has been living in Bangkok for a long, long time (8 years).


And that was where all things in common ended.

She did not seem too keen to chat. She mainly kept to herself and was only engaging her daughter.  She seems to be in her own little world. She didn’t smile very much, and neither did I see her interacting with other moms as well. I never saw her again.

Singaporean Mom #2:

I have a distant memory of meeting a mother-to-be of twins at one of my earlier Moms-meet session. I don’t remember very much of this lady, except that she was talking mainly about looking for domestic help.

She came across as someone who is very sure of herself as well as able to list out the kind of help she would need from her maid/nanny. I remember vaguely that she talked a lot about how she felt it would be hard to trust strangers to care for her kids. And for that reason, she would be flying her mom in to help her with her twins. She spoke about having very high expectations of those who would work for her.

Perhaps she didn’t like the fact that I asked questions as my was of getting to know her, but I had the impression that she didn’t really want to talk to me.

Never saw her again!

Singaporean Mom #3:

Tall and lanky, this Chinese Singaporean stay-at-home mom easily stood out as one of the tallest Asian I have ever seen. She had her hair cut shaped like a bowl, and she wore a thick black-rimmed glasses. At a glance, she came across as someone who is quite naïve and nerdy. She reminded me of a very studious student from Raffles Girl’s School.

Ling is part of her name, and I first met her at my pre-natal pilates class more than a year ago. We didn’t really chat till a few lessons after, and she was also one of those who didn’t come to class regularly.  When I first heard her accent, I remember being quite excited about meeting a fellow country-man. She seemed rather nice, but I couldn’t quite really place her. She then disappeared off the radar for a while.

I met her a few months later by chance as we were doing some grocery shopping, and she had recently (then)  gave birth to a baby girl. We chatted very briefly, and I thought that her French husband had seemed very unfriendly. He looked grumpy and was very uninterested to even acknowledge us while we were having a brief chat with his wife. He looked hassled, and was somewhat hurrying his wife, almost kind of annoyed that she had chosen to stop and chat for a bit…perhaps all of the after-effects of having a new baby.

Feeling as if we had been hurried was probably a good thing, as I realised soon enough that I didn’t really have much to say to her. We thought that we probably should “catch up again one of these days”. With work being my main and valid excuse for not being able to get in touch as often, I dropped her an email to connect her to other moms from our Pilates class.

She replied with a thanks, and I have not heard from her since. (On my part, I hadn’t bother to keep in touch.)

Singaporean Mom #4:

Everything about this woman screamed “look at me” – from speaking English in a rather posh accent to the branded stuff she wore, to the huge rock on her finger. Not only was the rock gigantic, her wedding ring was made up of at least 5 bands of diamonds all around.  In fact, her huge-ass ring was the only thing that stood out in my mind.

The second Singaporean I met in the same day as Ling while at Pilates class, I reckon that she must have been the envy of her many Singaporean friends!

As I found out, she has been living in Bangkok for 2 years, and prefers to shuttle back to Singapore every weekend to be with her husband. She revealed that she was working in an almost similar industry that I am, and had strong preference for Singapore medical capabilities. She opted to give birth in Singapore.

While we exchanged phone numbers and I thought there could be a potential connection somehow, like the rest, I really didn’t feel like there was any chemistry between us. While it is usually quite normal for us to sort of hang around a little after our pre-natal pilates session for a quick natter with other moms, she was quick to dismiss me when I tried to engage her in a friendly conversation. In fact, she acted exactly like the Singaporean lady who bought my bouncer – she made me feel that I was inconveniencing her. She quipped with a “Sorry. My husband ‘s been waiting and I have a very, very busy schedule.”

All right then.

That was the last I saw of her. No love loss.

Singaporean Mom #5:

This one was by far, my most memorable encounter with a fellow Singaporean. She was introduced to me by a very well-meaning mommy friend of mine who wanted to connect a fellow countryman to me when I was on maternity.

This Singaporean mom hailed from India after spending a good 3 years there and had apparently been in Bangkok for only 2 days. She must have been the weirdest of the lot. She was highly flustered and hyperventilating almost, and she thinks that everyone was out to cheat her. She was asking questions about maids and nannies, and the few questions that she kept repeating were things like,” Do the maids and nannies here steal?” , “Are they honest?” , “Do they lie and cheat?” because (quote-unquote), “I come from India and they all steal from me! So you cannot trust anyone!”

And she asked those questions like it was the most common questions to ask outright when you first meet another mom and when hiring domestic help. She repeated herself several times when I would not give her a straight yes or no answer. I mean, how do you even answer to that?!

She seemed rather rough at the edges and from her description on the things that she would demand from her maid/nanny, she seemed to have a very high standard and expectations (read: difficult, impossible, petty).  While I offered some information as to where she may be able to get domestic help/nanny, I was reluctant to recommend anyone I knew to her.

The other thing which struck me about her was her lack of display of attention for her 13 month old child. I remember that the child was still walking wobbly, and she was pretty much just left playing on her own – which was fine, except that the area where we were standing around had ragged pavement all around it. She already had some bruises and cuts on her, and all it would take was for the child to slip just once, and she would have a pretty nasty injury. For some reason, this weird mom didn’t seem to be worried and left her little daughter to her own devices; never once bothered to pull her back when she was about to get into trouble (instead, me and another mom who were chatting with her were the ones cringing away; between us wondering if we should be saying something!) .

She practically ignored the kid, and peeled the kid away from her whenever the kid came near her, citing that her daughter had been really clingy. I felt sorry for the kid.

The conversation with her became very tiring – she was very high-strung to the point of being neurotic. She was demanding answers to every question she posed. She was a black or white person with nothing in between. She knows what she wants and she wants it all her way. I thought she was a little bit freaky, and made up my mind that I want to have nothing to do with her.

So you see, I have only met a handful of Singaporeans in my lifetime here in Bangkok, and I am in no position to criticize them or be judgmental. They may not be the true reflection of all Singaporeans in Bangkok, but in my opinion, the average expat Singaporeans I have encountered here do come across as a little bit “atas” with a “I am so much better than you attitude.”  

Given my not-so-exciting encounter with them, I am almost convinced that Singaporean expats, and at least the ones that I have met, have their heads in the clouds. And, between you and me, I have come to a realization that the Singaporean expats and I can never be friends, for, I will never be accepted in their “all-atas” (literally translated as being high above) league.

Oh well.

Related post(s):
An encounter with a S'porean mom

Feeling nostalgic

Skimming through a bunch of images from my SD card in search of a few usable images for work, I came across a picture from our Holland trip last April which brought a smile to my face. The image jolted up my memory from years ago, and to date, I still remember it quite fondly.

This is the Hotel Atlanta situated at the Rembrandtplein in Amsterdam:

It was the hotel I stayed in for over a week during my first trip to Amsterdam 9 years ago when I was travelling solo. It was the place for many beginnings for stories that were meant to unfold of the life journey ahead of me; a journey I couldn’t possibly have phantom then.

I remember the same warm feelings that swept through me as we passed by the hotel on one of our day outs while we were there. Just looking at this picture all over again gave me a very sentimental feeling.

It brings back memories, and it was all good times.

Quote of the day

Stumbled upon this recently and I reckon that this is not something the average person would think about:

It's thought provoking and exactly the reason why discrimination should not be condoned.

Calvin & Hobbes: Life Lessons

Every now and then, I'll put up comic strips from Calvin and Hobbes on my blog just because I loved what I read on that day. And this is of no surprise - I've always loved Calvin and Hobbes! I remembered being utterly pissed when I realized that the Calvin & Hobbes gadget on the side bar of my blog had some copyright issues and was taken off the blogger's gadget a few years back. (It's still not back on!)

There's just something about Bill Waterson's sense of humour into the characters that makes it special, especially since his "inner voices" are coming from the mind of a precocious 6-year old child (and a stuffed tiger). Most are downright hilarious, and most of the quotes, epic!

I always wondered how Bill Waterson do that...putting himself in the mind of a child, while making a six year old sound too intelligent for his own good, being wise in varied ways in an adult-like sense, yet allowing the child to be a child with such vivid, colourful and amazing imagination.

Recently,  a nicely written article on "10 Life Lessons from Calvin and Hobbes has gone viral". I love the way the writer puts it all down, and I found myself reflecting on what she wrote simply because it is all true!

Every point she made is valid, and I found these few to be the most inspiring of them all as they speak to me the most:

1. Make your own rules

 As she puts it, life doesn't make sense - and sometimes, all you need to do is embrace the insanity. Making your own rules is the way to go.

2. Embrace your weirdness

 Being the introvert and a social misfit that I am, I feel very connected to this one. Like I said before, being weird and different from everyone else is not a bad thing. My life has so far been fun that way. have you seen the people I hang out with? They make me feel normal!

3. Perception is reality

I like what she said about : "When it comes to dealing with people, everything's easier when you remember that a person’s entire world is based on their perception of reality. Therefore, their perception is their reality, no matter how objective they try (or don’t try) to be" This is all so true. 

4. Most important things you learn aren't from school

  Oh! How true. I don't think the education system in Singapore has ever taught me how to deal with bitches and bullies at the workplace.

5. There's treasure everywhere! Go explore!

The journey of parenthood taught me to see things in a different light. It might be useless plastic bottles to you, but to a 2 year old child, there is no limit to his/her imagination of what it can be.

Original article can be found here.

An encounter with a S'porean mom

Selling off old baby stuff or baby-related items which we don’t have any more use for as the kids have outgrew them, has been a recent mission of mine. They may be used, but all were kept in good and still-very-usable conditions.

Following the scare I did myself in when I sold the baby cot last time, I became a little bit more mindful this time offering to meet potential buyers at the nearest BTS station or just making sure that Silver Bullet is home should they want to view the product first.

Most of my buyers seemed like nice and reasonable people. A couple of them sounded weird, a handful was nice and the one who bought my breast pump were the sweetest of them all. But there was one buyer whom I thought was a tad arrogant. Her authoritative tone was a little misplaced, and I thought she bordered on being rude. She inquired about the bouncer and the conversation went like this:

(Me - in my head: What do you effing mean you don't have time? You think I have the whole time in the world?)

I had to take a long, deep breath  when I read that and was wrecking my brains real hard to craft a reply as politely as I could before I replied to her message several hours later...

Then, the next day:

So we dropped off the bouncer at her place. We waited around for more than 5 minutes, and when she finally made her grand entrance, she emanated the feeling that she was “oh-so-busy” and that our presence had more than inconvenienced her.
I shrugged whatever feelings I had aside. Besides, I only wanted to sell off the bouncer and it was not my place to be judgmental. She was cold – there were no smiles, no name re- introductions, no shaking of hands. When I had her on the phone earlier to ask for directions, I thought she sounded sneakily Singaporean. I ignored her unfriendliness and proceeded to explain to her how the bouncer works.  I even made some small talks while she inspected the bouncer, but I guess she wasn’t too keen on making any. With curiosity getting the better of me, I hazard a question of her origins.  I could sense her pride when she confirmed that she is a Singaporean. (hah!)

Satisfied with her inspection, she then handed over the money to me and then said curtly, “Keep the 30 baht”. She then quickly picked up the bouncer and turned away; again exuding the feeling that we really were inconveniencing her.

The mere 30 baht of pittance “delivery fee” thrown at me felt like an insult; a-slap-in-the-face.  I may have misread her or her tone from the text messages, but her demanding and authoritative tone she pulled on me was uncalled for. And, when I met her, I thought her arrogance was a little bit misplaced.  Did she, for one second think that if she would be shopping at a mall, the goods that SHE wanted would have come walking to her with a snap of her fingers?

There and then, I decided that I don't want to have anything to do with her beyond that.

A few days on, Silver Bullet found a small cushion that had come with the bouncer; something which we had accidentally missed out. I was in two-minds to want to contact her again. I guess, I could have just ignored it, but the good in me thought that since I had intended to sell all of it, letting her know was the right thing to do.  Besides, I didn’t really want to write her off as another “one of those” Singaporeans. As soon as she replied, I regretted my decision.

I thought the way replied with “Yes I know that” sounded as if she thought I had deliberately ripped her off.  Again, I may have just misconstrued the SMS message. I dismissed all thoughts and spent an additional 70 baht to get a messenger to deliver it to her at her apartment the next day. I didn’t get as much as an acknowledgement that she received it, let alone a simple “thanks”.

I have since come to a conclusion that *most* expat Singaporeans I met in Bangkok can be quite arrogant and bordering on rude. I don’t encounter many of them, but the few that I have met makes me want to run far, far away from them. They exude the feeling that they are so above you, and you are nothing but an inconvenience to their lives. They behave like the entitled elitist.  They have got their noses high up in the air, and their attitude, supercilious.  It might just be them making a statement of who they are, but those are the very traits I find extremely repulsive.

Just out of fun, I’ll tell a little story of the very few Singaporeans compatriots I encountered in the last few years since I have been living in Bangkok .

Watch this space -  I think it might make for an interesting read!

De-cluttering

After months and months of painstakingly putting our junk aside and then attempting to give it all away to charity but never got round to it because we didn’t really know where to drop them off at, we finally found one of the few organisations in Bangkok that not only accept items which we labeled as “junk”, but one that provides a free pick-up service.

Called Second Chance Bangkok (SCB in short, and I believe with NO affiliation to SCB Bank), the organization is a local initiative by the residents of Klong Toey slum to:

• reuse and recycle household and office items
• create employment opportunities for people who have experienced barriers employment
• finance projects that support families in the slums

They rely on donations of second-hand items ranging from clean clothes (babies/adults), furniture and any unwanted items that can be reused or still in very good conditions. These items are sold at the SCB shop, or passed on to those who lack the resources to purchase the items that they need.
It felt good to be able to give our used items a “second chance”, as we not only were able to de-clutter our home, we were also helping out on a cause.

It is my hope that most, if not all of our items can be put to good use - all 7 big-full-to-the-brim-bags ot them as well as the rest of the loose items pictured here.

Solve global warming?

As I walked into my office this morning, I caught sight of a box and had to literally do a double-take just to be sure that I had not made any mistake while trying to read the prints in 5 seconds as I sauntered past it:

I thought "solve global warming" was a very bold and ambitious statement to make. Ironic, even. Talk about making a sweeping statement.

Global warming is a big problem. No. Make that huge fucking problem. Just 5 days ago, the news reported that the levels of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere have been recorded at their highest level in human history. (Article from BBC here) Scientists are saying that we now have reach to the point of no return…which means that using Double A paper ain’t going to SOLVE global warming.

Like I said, it seemed like a sweeping statement. But I am also aware that it may have been done with the best of intention…which, in this case, a little bit misplaced with the choice of word used.

I am not sure if global warming can ever be solved in my opinion, but we certainly can minimize the impact and decelerate the rate of global warming by first stop using paper altogether to reduce our carbon footprint.

Judgement calls

After putting up an ad for about a month now and after entertaining countless queries on the item I was selling and not hearing from the potential buyers ever again , Squirt’s (cheap) temporary cot bed which we bought from IKEA a couple of months before he was born has finally been sold!

And there’s a little story that came with it.

This time round, when a potential buyer contacted me, asking if the cot bed was still available and that if she could come by to see the product, I was just too happy to oblige. Given the fickle-mindedness of interested potential buyers who had contacted me and then changed their minds, I was expecting more of the same. The only difference was that she made an appointment with me to come by the next day. I didn’t think anything of it.

Next day came, and closer to the time of the appointment, I received 2 missed calls. When I called back, a man answered the phone saying he is the husband of the lady who was asking about the cot bed. He said he was making his way to our apartment.

When he finally got to the main entrance, he called again saying that the security guard had refused to let him in even though he stated his intention of seeing me. I had to talk to the guard and convinced him to send the bugger up.

As I hung up the phone, I suddenly had a “light-bulb-red-alert” moment. Silver Bullet was out of town, the kids are already in bed, and I was all alone at home. What if the guard made the right call? What if the potential buyer wasn’t genuine, but, was actually some random people with a sick mind? What if something happen inside my own home because I let a stranger in – be it female or male?

I tried to push the thought out of my head, telling myself that it was just my paranoia on over-drive. But I went into the kitchen anyway, trying to find a weapon small enough to conceal in my pocket – apart from a kitchen knife that was too big for the pocket that I have (save for a butter knife!),  I couldn’t find anything when the doorbell rang.

I then took a deep breath, convincing myself that I was nuts and opened the door. The wind knocked the hell out of me when I opened the door to a much disheveled and scruffy-looking man in berms, tattoo all over his body with some facial piercings. I was already paranoid and given the circumstance, I couldn’t be more judgmental – simply put, I wasn’t prepared to see what I saw!

Flustered, I asked if his wife came along. He said he was alone as she had to take care of a baby. In my head, I went, “Right! It could be a convenient excuse for any ill-intention person”. But my other alter ego cursed me for being judgmental.

I knew I had to think fast, so I politely told him to give me a minute and closed the door on him as he waited outside. I reckon the guy was probably offended when he saw the reaction on my face - but what’s a woman alone in her own home supposed to do?! (I know, I know, I should have thought about it, but honestly, none of that thing crossed my mind before the guard refused to let him up)

So in a split second, I decided that I should call the guard up, just in case - for, should something happened, it would be better to have someone accompanying me rather than no one at all. I wasn’t counting my luck on the guard to be honest (he is usually not very keen to leave his post), but luckily for me, our trusted, regular maintenance guy picked up the phone.

In my pidgin Thai, I asked him to come up to the apartment and tried to explain to him that I needed him to just hang around.  I wasn’t sure he understood, but he said he would come up anyway. I then quickly decided to drag the dismantled bed pieces out to the hallway, instead of leading the guy to the room to see the cot bed. That way, our maintenance guy would arrive just in time, he could inspect the goods and decide if he wanted it after all, and if anything untoward happened, I could just bash his head with the wooden planks!

Just as I opened the door again to show the guy the goods (me apologizing profusely) which I dragged out to the front door, our maintenance guy came up. I tried to tell him my intention, but it was not getting through. He then decided that he was not needed there, and wanted to leave. (Arrrghh!) By then Mr.Tattoo decided that he would take the cot bed, and I took the opportunity to tell our maintenance guy that perhaps he could be so kind to help get a taxi. Just as quickly, our maintenance guy disappeared into the elevator. (Argghhhh!)

Mr. Tattoo thought the goods looked fine, didn’t really bother to inspect it and handed me the money right away. We chatted a little bit and when I asked, he said that they have a 2 week old baby. He told me that they got some cheap bed for the baby because they didn’t have much money. The bed they have did not appear safe to them, and thought that the IKEA bed we were selling came with credible safety standard and seemed to be good value for money.

Just as quickly, even though I was still a little wary, I warmed up to Mr. Tattoo – I somehow felt a little guilty for my paranoia. In my defense though, under a different circumstance, I don’t think I would be half as judgmental or paranoid.

I then offered him some water  – which he was grateful for, while waiting for the taxi to arrive. And knowing that he has a new born, I asked if he needed anything else.

Funnily enough, I ended up leaving him alone in the dining area several times because I was running up and down to get stuff from the room, including a couple of old mattress covers and newborn clothings for his baby. I thought it would be better to give those stuff away since they were still in a pretty good condition, and he certainly didn’t seem to mind hand-me-downs.

In the end, all ended well. Nevertheless, I don’t think my paranoia was unfounded. The me-being-alone- at-home scenario when strangers visit to view items we want to sell and not knowing if they are genuine buyers, is,  in retrospect, quite a scary thought. It was really stupid of me to agree to meet up with strangers when Silver Bullet wasn’t around.

The incident was a good reminder to err on the side of caution. It made me realise that such things should not be taken lightly as one never know what is going to happen. And when things do happen, they happen in a split second, and by then, it might be too late.

Singapore's rat race

Recently I stumbled upon an article (and for the life of me, cannot remember which one!), which took me to a link that has information on an average wage of a Singaporean by age. That means, the chart sorts of give you an idea on the pay prospects of the type of occupation one has in Singapore.

The link is here.

And an example of an output based on selected occupation is captured here:

I may be completely off, but I seem to recall that these numbers are looking quite the same from almost 8 years ago when I left Singapore to work in Thailand. If my believe is true, then there has been no increase in salaries island-wide despite having a natural inflation in the last few years. With the rising cost of living in Singapore, I found these numbers to be quite scary. 

Unless you live or ever lived in Singapore, I don't think anyone can get a clear picture of how the average Singaporeans (my parents and brother included) struggle to make ends meet with their "token of salary" after all the deductions that has to be made. Disposable income is greatly reduced, and sometimes non-existent. Cars and housing prices have become extremely unaffordable, and with the current appalling public transport situation - claimed to be the world class at one point - the place has become a joke. The poor are getting poorer, and the middle-class are strapped for cash.

My mom has always mentioned that in Singapore, you need to be rich to be sick. One can't afford to be sick because of the prolonged medical treatment required which the Medisave (savings from provident fund) can't quite cover. In her words, it is much more affordable to die as soon as possible because you cut back on expenses. If you are not in the top 20% pay bracket, then you work till you die. Being sick is not an option as the opportunity cost to not being able to work is a greater burden than anything else, even if you don't have to support your kids anymore.

I guess they have purposely left out the ministers' pay from their study here as it would have gone completely off the charts.

The thought of ever going back home to Singapore is becoming very unappealing.