Book of the Week: Ancient Angkor by Michael Freeman & Claude Jacques
The first video of Coconut is online!
It is just so cute. What strikes me most is how he doesn’t seem to be afraid or running away from her. He looks like he’s being his usual confuzzled but inquisitive self. And that’s just brilliant. Bethany’s been teaching him the alphabet, to read the world map and how to kick a small ball as well! Bonus. He’s not just with a loving new family, he’s also getting a good education!
Minni has been fantastic. She really understands how I feel about Coconut (“You really put a lot of pressure on your friends, you know!”) and has been doing little things like this to help. Two days ago I received photos of Bethany and Coconut at play. He was looking up at the camera like he was asking, “Forget Tajikistan, where’s the cucumber?!”
As for Robert – he was caught kneeling by the enclosure making little squeaking noises. He’s a softie! Apparently, he’s been talking about getting Coconut a friend, too. That really would be the best thing ever for him (Coconut that is, not Robert!). Guinea pigs are social animals, and I’d always worried about Coconut being an only guinea pig...
I miss Coconut a lot, but this is wonderful. For the first time since he’s gone away, my mind is at peace. And I’m happy. So very, very happy.
Factoids of the Week:
None. Coconut’s well, well-fed, well-watered, well-loved and well-rounded. That’s all that matters.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
A Week Of Partings
Book of the Week: Cold Granite by Stuart MacBride
Coconut went to his new home yesterday. I was acutely aware that Friday was my last full day with him, and one of the last things I did yesterday was give him a bath and trim his nails. I was so relieved when I got the e-mail from Kin last Sunday informing me that Minni wanted a guinea pig for her daughter, but now that he’s gone I miss him so much. I started welling up when I gave him his goodbye cuddle, cried all the way home in the car, cried again when I saw the empty space in the kitchen where his enclosure used to be, and then some more when I went to put something in the bin and, almost by reflex, looked sideways, expecting to see him peeking up at me, but heard no paper rustling. It’s really amazing how a little creature can become so much a part of your life in just three months. As I told a very sleepy Gareth (in Adelaide) on the phone later that night when missing Coconut became too much, I really don’t know how people cope with giving their kids up for adoption.
But I’m trying to convince myself that it’s all for the best. I can’t take him with me, and should be happy that someone wants him. I can also see him any time I want. He wasn’t mine to have in the first place – I was only ever to be guardian angel for a little while until he found a permanent home. Still, although here I am trying to reason it all out through my writing and talk myself into believing the logic, all I really want is to have him back. I have my fears and misgivings (which stem from the fact that I think I am Coconut’s best mummy – I know I am) and have this awful nightmare in which I get a call two days after giving him away and am told that he’s broken his back and died due to mishandling. That would just kill me – I’d feel like I had sent him to his death. I don’t think I will go away with complete peace of mind, but I guess I have no choice but to have faith in my friends to take good care of him. I just pray Bethany will be gentle with Coconut, and Robert won’t decide to use the stair landing for floor time. And that he’ll get plenty of (good) attention, his nails clipped and perhaps even a friend.
After two wonderful weeks together (a disproportionate amount of which was spent exploring temples, eating and meeting my relatives), I saw Gareth off on Thursday night. I knew I’d get him to the airport on time, but there were split-seconds when I had my doubts. We both had farty jobbies and actually had to come up back to the flat again for a second round of creating Jackson Pollock-esque artwork on the toilet bowls. (And yet, for all our trouble battling dodgy tums and almost literally holding it all in, he still didn’t make it to Adelaide as planned.) We’ll meet up again a week on Tuesday, which is perhaps why I don’t miss him nearly as much as I miss Coconut. I don’t have nightmares about Gareth breaking his back because he’s big enough – in more ways than one – to take care of himself. Coconut isn’t, and that’s what breaks my heart.
I think, in a way, the three days I spent back home with Gareth earlier this week were also a parting of sorts with my family. I won’t see them for almost a year, two if I don’t come home next Chinese New Year. The meals we had together were a series of slow goodbyes. I’ll miss the dogs the most. I can always call home and talk to my folks and relatives, and vice-versa, but it’s not like Dusty and Lucky can just pick up the phone or learn how to use Skype. Dusty is already 13, and just like for Coconut, I have this terrible fear that I will get a phone call telling me that she is no longer with us. She’s looking healthy though, but I pray that day is a long way off. I really don’t know how I’d handle grieving for a loved one so far away from home. I’m the sort who needs, who wants to be there. I wouldn’t feel like I’d said my goodbyes properly otherwise and I think I’d carry a sense of not having closure for the rest of my life if I didn’t.
Cold Granite reminds me of Scotland so much. (But that’s really a stupid thing to say, because it’s a Scottish book, for feck’s sake. Set in Aberdeen and written by a guy who lives in the area.) And it also reminds me that I still have a lot of packing and writing to do. I should be panicking, but I’m not, for some (probably very scary) reason. Gareth says we can have another guinea pig when I go back. It won’t be Coconut, but it’s a start.
Factoids of the Week:
The average annual income in Cambodia, one of the poorest countries in the world, hovers around the US$300 mark. Over three and a half days ferrying us about the sights of Siem Reap, our tuk-tuk driver, Kim Soryar, earned just under 25% of what his less fortunate countrymen did in a year.
Dogs wag their tails in different directions depending on their moods. Vigorous wags to the right if they want to play; ditto, but milder, if they see a cat or human they like; to the left if they are upset or see a rival.
Just because someone mentioned it and I didn’t know anything about it, I looked up bipolar disorder. Untreated patients with Bipolar I Disorder usually have eight to 10 episodes of mania and depression in their lifetime, and an approximately 15% risk of death by suicide. It is the third leading cause of death among people aged 15-24 years, and is the sixth leading cause of disability (lost years of healthy life) for people aged 15-44 years in the developed world. Women with Bipolar I Disorder lose, on average, nine years in life expectancy, 14 years of lost productivity and 12 years of normal health.
Minni said last night she feels very strongly I am gifted. Ummm. I very much doubt it, but Googled “genius” anyway. Discovered that Thomas Jefferson invented everyday, take-for-granted objects like the swivel chair and pedometer, among several others, but never patented any of them because he wanted people to have free use of them.
Coconut went to his new home yesterday. I was acutely aware that Friday was my last full day with him, and one of the last things I did yesterday was give him a bath and trim his nails. I was so relieved when I got the e-mail from Kin last Sunday informing me that Minni wanted a guinea pig for her daughter, but now that he’s gone I miss him so much. I started welling up when I gave him his goodbye cuddle, cried all the way home in the car, cried again when I saw the empty space in the kitchen where his enclosure used to be, and then some more when I went to put something in the bin and, almost by reflex, looked sideways, expecting to see him peeking up at me, but heard no paper rustling. It’s really amazing how a little creature can become so much a part of your life in just three months. As I told a very sleepy Gareth (in Adelaide) on the phone later that night when missing Coconut became too much, I really don’t know how people cope with giving their kids up for adoption.
But I’m trying to convince myself that it’s all for the best. I can’t take him with me, and should be happy that someone wants him. I can also see him any time I want. He wasn’t mine to have in the first place – I was only ever to be guardian angel for a little while until he found a permanent home. Still, although here I am trying to reason it all out through my writing and talk myself into believing the logic, all I really want is to have him back. I have my fears and misgivings (which stem from the fact that I think I am Coconut’s best mummy – I know I am) and have this awful nightmare in which I get a call two days after giving him away and am told that he’s broken his back and died due to mishandling. That would just kill me – I’d feel like I had sent him to his death. I don’t think I will go away with complete peace of mind, but I guess I have no choice but to have faith in my friends to take good care of him. I just pray Bethany will be gentle with Coconut, and Robert won’t decide to use the stair landing for floor time. And that he’ll get plenty of (good) attention, his nails clipped and perhaps even a friend.
After two wonderful weeks together (a disproportionate amount of which was spent exploring temples, eating and meeting my relatives), I saw Gareth off on Thursday night. I knew I’d get him to the airport on time, but there were split-seconds when I had my doubts. We both had farty jobbies and actually had to come up back to the flat again for a second round of creating Jackson Pollock-esque artwork on the toilet bowls. (And yet, for all our trouble battling dodgy tums and almost literally holding it all in, he still didn’t make it to Adelaide as planned.) We’ll meet up again a week on Tuesday, which is perhaps why I don’t miss him nearly as much as I miss Coconut. I don’t have nightmares about Gareth breaking his back because he’s big enough – in more ways than one – to take care of himself. Coconut isn’t, and that’s what breaks my heart.
I think, in a way, the three days I spent back home with Gareth earlier this week were also a parting of sorts with my family. I won’t see them for almost a year, two if I don’t come home next Chinese New Year. The meals we had together were a series of slow goodbyes. I’ll miss the dogs the most. I can always call home and talk to my folks and relatives, and vice-versa, but it’s not like Dusty and Lucky can just pick up the phone or learn how to use Skype. Dusty is already 13, and just like for Coconut, I have this terrible fear that I will get a phone call telling me that she is no longer with us. She’s looking healthy though, but I pray that day is a long way off. I really don’t know how I’d handle grieving for a loved one so far away from home. I’m the sort who needs, who wants to be there. I wouldn’t feel like I’d said my goodbyes properly otherwise and I think I’d carry a sense of not having closure for the rest of my life if I didn’t.
Cold Granite reminds me of Scotland so much. (But that’s really a stupid thing to say, because it’s a Scottish book, for feck’s sake. Set in Aberdeen and written by a guy who lives in the area.) And it also reminds me that I still have a lot of packing and writing to do. I should be panicking, but I’m not, for some (probably very scary) reason. Gareth says we can have another guinea pig when I go back. It won’t be Coconut, but it’s a start.
Factoids of the Week:
The average annual income in Cambodia, one of the poorest countries in the world, hovers around the US$300 mark. Over three and a half days ferrying us about the sights of Siem Reap, our tuk-tuk driver, Kim Soryar, earned just under 25% of what his less fortunate countrymen did in a year.
Dogs wag their tails in different directions depending on their moods. Vigorous wags to the right if they want to play; ditto, but milder, if they see a cat or human they like; to the left if they are upset or see a rival.
Just because someone mentioned it and I didn’t know anything about it, I looked up bipolar disorder. Untreated patients with Bipolar I Disorder usually have eight to 10 episodes of mania and depression in their lifetime, and an approximately 15% risk of death by suicide. It is the third leading cause of death among people aged 15-24 years, and is the sixth leading cause of disability (lost years of healthy life) for people aged 15-44 years in the developed world. Women with Bipolar I Disorder lose, on average, nine years in life expectancy, 14 years of lost productivity and 12 years of normal health.
Minni said last night she feels very strongly I am gifted. Ummm. I very much doubt it, but Googled “genius” anyway. Discovered that Thomas Jefferson invented everyday, take-for-granted objects like the swivel chair and pedometer, among several others, but never patented any of them because he wanted people to have free use of them.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Touchdown!
Book of the Week: Lonely Planet Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei and Lonely Planet Southeast Asia on a Shoestring (just a wee bit of revision before His Nibs gets here!)
Had difficulty sleeping last night – in part due to the amount of coffee I consumed at tea-time, and also the mini adrenaline rush I got counting down the hours until Gareth arrives. (“18 hours to go… oooh, 17 hours 53 minutes now…”) Didn’t fall asleep till about 4.30am but felt OK this morning, though. Must be an adrenaline hangover.
But anyway. Kitchen mopped. Floor cleaned. Toilets scrubbed. Clothes washed. Bedsheets changed. Guinea pig fed. Sleeping arrangements not totally fine-tuned yet but we’ll sort something out, nae bova.
Oooh… just one more hour before the flight touches down. That’s my cue to go!
Factoids of the Week:
Who cares! Though I’ve realized Coconut talks back to me if I squeak at him. And that I’ve just doubled my monthly post count!
Had difficulty sleeping last night – in part due to the amount of coffee I consumed at tea-time, and also the mini adrenaline rush I got counting down the hours until Gareth arrives. (“18 hours to go… oooh, 17 hours 53 minutes now…”) Didn’t fall asleep till about 4.30am but felt OK this morning, though. Must be an adrenaline hangover.
But anyway. Kitchen mopped. Floor cleaned. Toilets scrubbed. Clothes washed. Bedsheets changed. Guinea pig fed. Sleeping arrangements not totally fine-tuned yet but we’ll sort something out, nae bova.
Oooh… just one more hour before the flight touches down. That’s my cue to go!
Factoids of the Week:
Who cares! Though I’ve realized Coconut talks back to me if I squeak at him. And that I’ve just doubled my monthly post count!
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Random Thoughts: One Day To Go...
Book of the Week: This is getting repetitive…
THANK YOU, BAYERN!!!!!!!
Stayed up late – second night in a row – to watch footie. Just as well I’m still in between jobs. Can’t imagine what it’d have been like had I not moved to Scotland and watched the number of World Cup games I did last year in this time zone. Getting too old for this. Man Utd v Lille, 1-0, Man Utd 2-0 on aggregate. Boring match with occasional heart-in-mouth moments, but it’s undeniable: Henrik Larsson is a bloody genius. Will be sorry to see him go at the end of the week.
Flicked in between channels when I couldn’t bear to watch the Utd match, and found the overall tone of play of the night’s four matches for the most part kinda cacat, not least for the local commentary. (Come on, you twats, it’s the last 16 Champions League, do you think we want to hear that pretentious moron Zainal whatshisface struggling with the names and trying to make sense of the offside rule???)
But a big thank-you to Bayern Munich for sending Real Madrid out of the Champions League! Brilliant first-minute goal by Roy Makaay. Fastest ever goal in the history of the competition, there’s a sporting factoid for ya. Loved how it seemed more like a game of pinball than football at times, the way the ball was bouncing off feet all over the pitch. So that’s the two cockiest, smuggest teams out of the competition. Bye-bye Real! Bye-bye Barca! Bye-bye Beckham!
Like the football, it turned out to be another up-and-down day. Got loads done (though it wasn’t like I had a to-do list the length of the Queen’s Birthday Honours). After flumping about most of the day trying to get hold of Priya for my doxycycline tablets, I met Kaynis – my very favourite insurance agent – at tea-time, and, over glasses of Milo and iced coffee and double portions of kaya toast, bought the insurance for my Cambodia and NZ trips. Very pleased with the excellent price quoted as well.
Then I wandered over to Ikano Power Centre and spent the next three hours looking at bed storage boxes (at Ikea) and pet cages (at Pet Station). Need to be ready just in case some angel of providence turns up and decides he/she wants Coconut. Not everybody is going to let a guinea pig go free-range, so he’ll need something reasonably big enough to run around in.
What annoyed me, though, was that the pet cages (“Create a fun, natural home for your rabbit / guinea pig / dwarf hamster!”) seem to have been designed by people who had no idea of the minimum amount of space needed by a small animal. Guinea pigs are supposed to have at least 6 sq ft of space, and the very largest cage available measured only 4.825 sq ft. Guinea pigs are supposed to be social animals – the best thing you can do for your guinea pig is get it a friend – so how the hell are you supposed to even keep them in that space? Huh? Huh??? The design for the water bottle was also ridiculous: a tiny little opening for the nozzle, a flimsy plastic strap and a huge bottle. I just couldn’t see it balancing. (Yes, I experimented. The shop assistants didn’t look too pleased.)
I was pretty damn depressed for a good hour afterwards – the only other option was to find some Coroplast and make a customized box for Coconut, but there didn’t seem to be any boards of any decent size on sale. Maybe I could poke around electrical goods shops and see if they have any fridge boxes they could spare.
Went to see Ah Giek to collect my spanking new pair of glasses. They are très chic, even if I do have some trouble fitting them new-fangled bendy rimless frames into the case. Ah Giek also gave me a couple of apples (“for Coconut”) and, despite my annoyed protestations, pressed some money into my hand (“for your trips – you haven’t started working yet!”). She is one fantastic aunt. If I ever win the lottery, she’s definitely getting a healthy percentage. Though a more realistic goal would be for me to pay for a trip over to Scotland sometime.
I’ve just realized that when I publish this, I’ll have gone one post more than I have in any other month since I started blogging. Score! Milestone! Oooh... and that it’s been 20 years since the release of U2’s Joshua Tree. Wow. Has it been that long. I remember that album only too well. Never bought the CD because I figured the tape was always lying about somewhere, but I can’t remember where now...
The best part of today was knowing that Gareth will be arriving tomorrow. Yay! In about 21 hours’ time we’ll probably either be tucking into some quality Malaysian street food (i.e. comes with enough E. coli to knock out a herd of elephants – if elephants can indeed be affected by E. coli, that is), or – considering that it’s going to be a long day for the both of us tomorrow – fast asleep. Though that’s no bad thing as we have loads planned for the weekend – taking him for a quick refresher course tour of KL on Saturday, visiting Malacca (his first time) on Sunday, and going to Kuala Gandah to see the elephants (a first for both of us) on Monday. But I get the feeling that during his time here he’ll more likely be tired out from eating than anything… when in Rome and all that. It is Malaysia, after all!
Oooh! Oooh! 20 hours 55 minutes now… can you tell I’m excited…
Factoids of the Week:
Almost said “Still nothing”, but then remembered a story (from The Sun – where else!) about an extremely overweight Russian boy. Dzambulat Khatokov, trumpeted as “the world’s biggest boy”, is seven years old, weighs 16 stone, and has been weightlifting since he was three. Gotta wonder what he’s been eating – or being fed – seeing as his mother is the one who seems dead set on him becoming a professional sumo wrestler (“Our hope is that Jambik will provide a secure future for our family – all we have is because of Jambik”) and insists that he loves taking centre-stage. Funnily enough, Dzambulat sounds like jam bulat, which means “round clock” in Malay...
Captain America has been killed off! AUUUUGH! Shot by a sniper while walking out of court! AUUUUGH!
This is scary – don’t know if this woman is insecure, suffering from body dysmorphia or simply a glutton for punishment. Sheyla de Almeida, 27, a model, had 14 operations and a total of 2.4 litres of silicone pimped in to have the biggest boobs (current size 34FF) in Brazil. She has now decided she wants another 8 litres of gloop so she can beat the current world record of 42XXX. Crikey. That’s eye-watering. And I thought Lea’s 40M footballs were creepy.
THANK YOU, BAYERN!!!!!!!
Stayed up late – second night in a row – to watch footie. Just as well I’m still in between jobs. Can’t imagine what it’d have been like had I not moved to Scotland and watched the number of World Cup games I did last year in this time zone. Getting too old for this. Man Utd v Lille, 1-0, Man Utd 2-0 on aggregate. Boring match with occasional heart-in-mouth moments, but it’s undeniable: Henrik Larsson is a bloody genius. Will be sorry to see him go at the end of the week.
Flicked in between channels when I couldn’t bear to watch the Utd match, and found the overall tone of play of the night’s four matches for the most part kinda cacat, not least for the local commentary. (Come on, you twats, it’s the last 16 Champions League, do you think we want to hear that pretentious moron Zainal whatshisface struggling with the names and trying to make sense of the offside rule???)
But a big thank-you to Bayern Munich for sending Real Madrid out of the Champions League! Brilliant first-minute goal by Roy Makaay. Fastest ever goal in the history of the competition, there’s a sporting factoid for ya. Loved how it seemed more like a game of pinball than football at times, the way the ball was bouncing off feet all over the pitch. So that’s the two cockiest, smuggest teams out of the competition. Bye-bye Real! Bye-bye Barca! Bye-bye Beckham!
Like the football, it turned out to be another up-and-down day. Got loads done (though it wasn’t like I had a to-do list the length of the Queen’s Birthday Honours). After flumping about most of the day trying to get hold of Priya for my doxycycline tablets, I met Kaynis – my very favourite insurance agent – at tea-time, and, over glasses of Milo and iced coffee and double portions of kaya toast, bought the insurance for my Cambodia and NZ trips. Very pleased with the excellent price quoted as well.
Then I wandered over to Ikano Power Centre and spent the next three hours looking at bed storage boxes (at Ikea) and pet cages (at Pet Station). Need to be ready just in case some angel of providence turns up and decides he/she wants Coconut. Not everybody is going to let a guinea pig go free-range, so he’ll need something reasonably big enough to run around in.
What annoyed me, though, was that the pet cages (“Create a fun, natural home for your rabbit / guinea pig / dwarf hamster!”) seem to have been designed by people who had no idea of the minimum amount of space needed by a small animal. Guinea pigs are supposed to have at least 6 sq ft of space, and the very largest cage available measured only 4.825 sq ft. Guinea pigs are supposed to be social animals – the best thing you can do for your guinea pig is get it a friend – so how the hell are you supposed to even keep them in that space? Huh? Huh??? The design for the water bottle was also ridiculous: a tiny little opening for the nozzle, a flimsy plastic strap and a huge bottle. I just couldn’t see it balancing. (Yes, I experimented. The shop assistants didn’t look too pleased.)
I was pretty damn depressed for a good hour afterwards – the only other option was to find some Coroplast and make a customized box for Coconut, but there didn’t seem to be any boards of any decent size on sale. Maybe I could poke around electrical goods shops and see if they have any fridge boxes they could spare.
Went to see Ah Giek to collect my spanking new pair of glasses. They are très chic, even if I do have some trouble fitting them new-fangled bendy rimless frames into the case. Ah Giek also gave me a couple of apples (“for Coconut”) and, despite my annoyed protestations, pressed some money into my hand (“for your trips – you haven’t started working yet!”). She is one fantastic aunt. If I ever win the lottery, she’s definitely getting a healthy percentage. Though a more realistic goal would be for me to pay for a trip over to Scotland sometime.
I’ve just realized that when I publish this, I’ll have gone one post more than I have in any other month since I started blogging. Score! Milestone! Oooh... and that it’s been 20 years since the release of U2’s Joshua Tree. Wow. Has it been that long. I remember that album only too well. Never bought the CD because I figured the tape was always lying about somewhere, but I can’t remember where now...
The best part of today was knowing that Gareth will be arriving tomorrow. Yay! In about 21 hours’ time we’ll probably either be tucking into some quality Malaysian street food (i.e. comes with enough E. coli to knock out a herd of elephants – if elephants can indeed be affected by E. coli, that is), or – considering that it’s going to be a long day for the both of us tomorrow – fast asleep. Though that’s no bad thing as we have loads planned for the weekend – taking him for a quick refresher course tour of KL on Saturday, visiting Malacca (his first time) on Sunday, and going to Kuala Gandah to see the elephants (a first for both of us) on Monday. But I get the feeling that during his time here he’ll more likely be tired out from eating than anything… when in Rome and all that. It is Malaysia, after all!
Oooh! Oooh! 20 hours 55 minutes now… can you tell I’m excited…
Factoids of the Week:
Almost said “Still nothing”, but then remembered a story (from The Sun – where else!) about an extremely overweight Russian boy. Dzambulat Khatokov, trumpeted as “the world’s biggest boy”, is seven years old, weighs 16 stone, and has been weightlifting since he was three. Gotta wonder what he’s been eating – or being fed – seeing as his mother is the one who seems dead set on him becoming a professional sumo wrestler (“Our hope is that Jambik will provide a secure future for our family – all we have is because of Jambik”) and insists that he loves taking centre-stage. Funnily enough, Dzambulat sounds like jam bulat, which means “round clock” in Malay...
Captain America has been killed off! AUUUUGH! Shot by a sniper while walking out of court! AUUUUGH!
This is scary – don’t know if this woman is insecure, suffering from body dysmorphia or simply a glutton for punishment. Sheyla de Almeida, 27, a model, had 14 operations and a total of 2.4 litres of silicone pimped in to have the biggest boobs (current size 34FF) in Brazil. She has now decided she wants another 8 litres of gloop so she can beat the current world record of 42XXX. Crikey. That’s eye-watering. And I thought Lea’s 40M footballs were creepy.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Random Thoughts: Two Days To Go
Book of the Week: See yesterday’s post...
It’s been a Scottish weather kind of day. Started off all doom and gloom, but brightened considerably towards the evening. Or does that usually work in reverse. Usually it’s a case of waiting five minutes if you don’t like the weather…
Anyway – I know I’m never going to be a domestic goddess but last night (or rather, very early this morning) confirmed it. OK, so my housekeeping skills need work, so to get hear from Miks that my efforts at scrubbing the bathrooms weren’t too bad was a compliment. But then he went in for a shower, and there was a very long, pissed-off, “What-lahhhh…” – Oops. He’d found one of my hairs draped over the toilet roll. Ah well. I guess I should know better than to leave even a fleck of kerastase anywhere within a 10km radius. Never going to pass Kim and Aggie’s clean tests this way. Now that I look back on it, it was actually quite funny (though it didn’t feel so at the time). Ended up arguing like two five-year-olds (YOU do it! No, YOU do it!), and wound up in the living room together, both of us in extremely bad moods and very huffy, not talking to each other, but with me watching the first half of the Liverpool v Barcelona return leg at Anfield.
(Lapsing into stream of consciousness here – a.k.a car-crash change of topic – although I can’t stand Liverpool, I’m glad they won. Lesser of the two evils! Man Utd v Lille tonight at 3.45am, hope the Reds bang three past the Frenchies. That’ll shut them up, whinging about Giggs’ quickie free-kick goal. And I hope UEFA comes down hard on them for trying to walk off the pitch too. Muppets.)
And then, when I woke up, terrified at the prospect of not having all my stuff boxed and ready in time for The Big Move next month, I did more than the usual today – and now, after cramming as many books as I could into another four boxes, I am not sure if actually finishing packing isn’t the scarier option.
My books already take up something like seven boxes, and I still have another two bookcases to go. And that’s not including the one-and-a-half tonnes of tomes I’m leaving behind, which have been squeezed into every corner of my folks’ house, in boxes under the bed, in crevices between cupboards and corners of wardrobes (before I left for university, my Dad suggested that I donate my books to the library... any damn library). I’m sure there are plenty of people out there with shedloads (literally) more books than I have, but I’m beginning to realize that it’s really rather frightening the number of books one can amass in a lifetime. Perhaps, instead of saving up to buy my own little flat, I should instead be looking at warehouses and/or storage space for rent.
On the upside, I worked up the courage to e-mail a total stranger today. Actually, that isn’t really a first because I did it all the time (still do) in my line of work, but it was usually a request for an interview, clarification or press stills. I e-mailed this person for a personal favour, and as I have problems asking that of people I don’t know, I just had to tell myself face wasn’t as important as Coconut’s well-being. This person might be able to help me find a home for Coconut – fingers crossed. She seems to network quite a lot – if she puts the word out that there’s a guinea pig for adoption, she’ll be able to reach a lot more people. It’d be like Coconut’s very own PR campaign. I hope something good comes out of it because Coconut deserves a good home.
Norlin e-mailed to inform the rest of the YABC (that’s Yogi’s Angels & Bitches Club – of which I am a proud member – it sounds kinky, but alas, it’s not!) of the barbecue on Saturday. It was a very sweet e-mail – “we’re having a barbecue for May and Gareth”. Awww! It’s like a hello/goodbye party. I secretly hope they all come because they’ll miss me and don’t know when we’ll have another YABC Bitch Fit at Fasta Pasta again, but I’m sure they’ll attend because they all want to see the ang moh and give him the third degree… I do love barbecues at Norlin’s – they are extremely fun, feel-good events. (We’ll have to do the washing up this time, though, as her maid ran off with the boyfriend a couple of days ago.) Can’t wait.
Ken’s also added me as a contributor to his New Zealand blog, no idea why, but in all probability in anticipation of the experiences (and travel tips!) Gareth and I will very likely have after our trip next month. We’ve both never been so far south of the equator before, but anywhere I haven’t been to is a good place to go. Like I said a couple of lines ago: can’t wait.
Factoids of the Week:
I haven’t read anything today, so nothing. Yes, I’m slacking. Sue me.
It’s been a Scottish weather kind of day. Started off all doom and gloom, but brightened considerably towards the evening. Or does that usually work in reverse. Usually it’s a case of waiting five minutes if you don’t like the weather…
Anyway – I know I’m never going to be a domestic goddess but last night (or rather, very early this morning) confirmed it. OK, so my housekeeping skills need work, so to get hear from Miks that my efforts at scrubbing the bathrooms weren’t too bad was a compliment. But then he went in for a shower, and there was a very long, pissed-off, “What-lahhhh…” – Oops. He’d found one of my hairs draped over the toilet roll. Ah well. I guess I should know better than to leave even a fleck of kerastase anywhere within a 10km radius. Never going to pass Kim and Aggie’s clean tests this way. Now that I look back on it, it was actually quite funny (though it didn’t feel so at the time). Ended up arguing like two five-year-olds (YOU do it! No, YOU do it!), and wound up in the living room together, both of us in extremely bad moods and very huffy, not talking to each other, but with me watching the first half of the Liverpool v Barcelona return leg at Anfield.
(Lapsing into stream of consciousness here – a.k.a car-crash change of topic – although I can’t stand Liverpool, I’m glad they won. Lesser of the two evils! Man Utd v Lille tonight at 3.45am, hope the Reds bang three past the Frenchies. That’ll shut them up, whinging about Giggs’ quickie free-kick goal. And I hope UEFA comes down hard on them for trying to walk off the pitch too. Muppets.)
And then, when I woke up, terrified at the prospect of not having all my stuff boxed and ready in time for The Big Move next month, I did more than the usual today – and now, after cramming as many books as I could into another four boxes, I am not sure if actually finishing packing isn’t the scarier option.
My books already take up something like seven boxes, and I still have another two bookcases to go. And that’s not including the one-and-a-half tonnes of tomes I’m leaving behind, which have been squeezed into every corner of my folks’ house, in boxes under the bed, in crevices between cupboards and corners of wardrobes (before I left for university, my Dad suggested that I donate my books to the library... any damn library). I’m sure there are plenty of people out there with shedloads (literally) more books than I have, but I’m beginning to realize that it’s really rather frightening the number of books one can amass in a lifetime. Perhaps, instead of saving up to buy my own little flat, I should instead be looking at warehouses and/or storage space for rent.
On the upside, I worked up the courage to e-mail a total stranger today. Actually, that isn’t really a first because I did it all the time (still do) in my line of work, but it was usually a request for an interview, clarification or press stills. I e-mailed this person for a personal favour, and as I have problems asking that of people I don’t know, I just had to tell myself face wasn’t as important as Coconut’s well-being. This person might be able to help me find a home for Coconut – fingers crossed. She seems to network quite a lot – if she puts the word out that there’s a guinea pig for adoption, she’ll be able to reach a lot more people. It’d be like Coconut’s very own PR campaign. I hope something good comes out of it because Coconut deserves a good home.
Norlin e-mailed to inform the rest of the YABC (that’s Yogi’s Angels & Bitches Club – of which I am a proud member – it sounds kinky, but alas, it’s not!) of the barbecue on Saturday. It was a very sweet e-mail – “we’re having a barbecue for May and Gareth”. Awww! It’s like a hello/goodbye party. I secretly hope they all come because they’ll miss me and don’t know when we’ll have another YABC Bitch Fit at Fasta Pasta again, but I’m sure they’ll attend because they all want to see the ang moh and give him the third degree… I do love barbecues at Norlin’s – they are extremely fun, feel-good events. (We’ll have to do the washing up this time, though, as her maid ran off with the boyfriend a couple of days ago.) Can’t wait.
Ken’s also added me as a contributor to his New Zealand blog, no idea why, but in all probability in anticipation of the experiences (and travel tips!) Gareth and I will very likely have after our trip next month. We’ve both never been so far south of the equator before, but anywhere I haven’t been to is a good place to go. Like I said a couple of lines ago: can’t wait.
Factoids of the Week:
I haven’t read anything today, so nothing. Yes, I’m slacking. Sue me.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Random Thoughts: Three Days To Go
Book of the Week: I ain’t really reading – most of the books are in boxes now and the Pending Shelf is empty!
Earthquake in Padang today. Ah Giek called Dad to say people in buildings downtown KL had felt the tremors. Dad got me on Skype to ask me about it. Of course I hadn’t felt anything. Immediately checked it out on BBC and in turn got Dad freaked out – kid sister is on assignment in Singapore just now and apparently the earthquake had caused a few skyscrapers in the CBD there to sway. So of course he was worried. It’s all right, don’t bother asking about me, I’m only on the 10th floor of an apartment block!
Letter came today from the university – graduation’s in June, mind you mortgage the house now or you won’t see the back of your scroll! Write Stuff people sound like they’re getting kinda worried as well. They probably think I have no intention of returning the trophy now that I’m back in Malaysia.
Lunar eclipse on Sunday. Saw bugger all. Always seem to be on wrong side of world at right time. Judging from comments on BBC, it was pretty damn clear over the UK.
Can’t wait to see Mukhsin. Opens this Thursday and it looks good. Very Malaysian. Might even take Gareth to see it. Special Mention at the 2007 Berlinale. That should impress him.
Got a fair amount of stuff done today. After numerous phone calls this week (will see the total cost of damage when this month’s bill comes) to Emirates, I finally heard a human voice and managed to sort out my frequent flyer miles. I’m still a long way off from qualifying for a free flight or upgrading to business class but hey! At least now I can fly for free within the Middle East or from Peru to Central America on United, go on a day safari or stay at a Marriott (Cairo, Maida Vale or Frankfurt).
After lunch, I cleaned the flat, mopped the floor and scrubbed both bathrooms (the amount of dirt we’ve let accumulate is really appalling!) in preparation for Gareth’s arrival on Friday. Man, I’m a slob. It’s probably the most exercise I’ve done in ages and I’m absolutely knackered. Bathrooms aren’t as pristine as I’d like them to be, but at least now I know we won’t find the cure for a headache on the grouting. Can’t wait to see Miks’ eyes pop out when he gets home from work today! Especially as my housekeeping skills could be considered the bat signal for Kim and Aggie.
I really should do more packing if I want to alleviate these panic attacks. I’m so sick of seeing my books lying about like shattered glass, but at the same time I get exhausted after doing just two boxes. At this rate I’m never going to sort everything out in time for the big move to Scotland. It’ll be really amazing if they do get sorted in time. I also think I’m going to do something that I’ve never done with any of my books before: I might actually give a few of them away. There are a few titles I think Sue Anne might find interesting. The kid doesn’t appear to read enough anyway. Or at least, I haven’t really seen her with anything that has impressed me.
Thumbed through the NZ guidebooks again and beginning to wonder if Maori and Malay (the languages) belong to the same language family, or have the same proto-language stem. “Death” is mate in Maori; mati in Malay. “Fish” is ika in Maori; ikan in Malay. “Cloud” is ao in Maori; awan in Malay. “Land” or “country” is whenua in Maori; the world – lots of land! – is benua in Malay. “Water” is wai in Maori; air in Malay. I bet if I could speak Iban or Dayak I would find this exercise even more interesting. I don’t have a background in linguistics, but I love comparing and contrasting different words and/in different languages.
Phek Kin and I are in touch again. She rang me yesterday – asked if I wanted to come over for dinner and sleep over – but because the mobile has been on the blink for the last one week (I can’t even switch the damn thing on now – stupid battery!), I had no idea she called. She suggested that I give Coconut to the National Science Centre if I can’t find him a home. That’s not a bad idea… except that I don’t know a) if they have labs there and if their rabbit and guinea pig enclosure supplies them their test subjects (EEK!); b ) if the rabbits and guinea pigs are kept separately; c) even if they weren’t, if I’d want Coconut to be subjected to a lifetime of being prodded and squeezed by tots who wouldn’t know the first thing about handling guinea pigs; d) what the living conditions are like for the animals there. It’s a government facility. Not any government facility, but a Malaysian government facility. Would you trust them?
Factoids of the Week:
The Taupo volcanic zone on the North Island of New Zealand has the two most productive caldera (or crater) volcanoes in the world (Taupo and Tarawera). For the geologically disinclined, a caldera volcano occurs when a volcanic eruption is so immense that the ground surface collapses into the hole left behind.
This next factoid is from the BBC – gotta love them. Characters in Shaun the Sheep move 25 times per second, which means animators have to reset scenes 1,500 times for just one minute of footage. They capture an average of seven seconds of footage a day. And that’s considered breakneck speed, compared to Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of The Were-Rabbit (three seconds of footage a day) and Chicken Run (two seconds was considered a good day’s work).
OK, I did my homework. Maori and Malay belong to the Austronesian language family, which encompasses 1,246 languages and 311,740,132 speakers across 38 countries. In comparison, the Indo-European language family has only 430 languages but has the largest number of speakers: 2,562,896,428 in 59 countries. The largest of the language families is the Niger-Congo, which has 1,514 languages and 358,091,103 speakers in 40 countries.
Earthquake in Padang today. Ah Giek called Dad to say people in buildings downtown KL had felt the tremors. Dad got me on Skype to ask me about it. Of course I hadn’t felt anything. Immediately checked it out on BBC and in turn got Dad freaked out – kid sister is on assignment in Singapore just now and apparently the earthquake had caused a few skyscrapers in the CBD there to sway. So of course he was worried. It’s all right, don’t bother asking about me, I’m only on the 10th floor of an apartment block!
Letter came today from the university – graduation’s in June, mind you mortgage the house now or you won’t see the back of your scroll! Write Stuff people sound like they’re getting kinda worried as well. They probably think I have no intention of returning the trophy now that I’m back in Malaysia.
Lunar eclipse on Sunday. Saw bugger all. Always seem to be on wrong side of world at right time. Judging from comments on BBC, it was pretty damn clear over the UK.
Can’t wait to see Mukhsin. Opens this Thursday and it looks good. Very Malaysian. Might even take Gareth to see it. Special Mention at the 2007 Berlinale. That should impress him.
Got a fair amount of stuff done today. After numerous phone calls this week (will see the total cost of damage when this month’s bill comes) to Emirates, I finally heard a human voice and managed to sort out my frequent flyer miles. I’m still a long way off from qualifying for a free flight or upgrading to business class but hey! At least now I can fly for free within the Middle East or from Peru to Central America on United, go on a day safari or stay at a Marriott (Cairo, Maida Vale or Frankfurt).
After lunch, I cleaned the flat, mopped the floor and scrubbed both bathrooms (the amount of dirt we’ve let accumulate is really appalling!) in preparation for Gareth’s arrival on Friday. Man, I’m a slob. It’s probably the most exercise I’ve done in ages and I’m absolutely knackered. Bathrooms aren’t as pristine as I’d like them to be, but at least now I know we won’t find the cure for a headache on the grouting. Can’t wait to see Miks’ eyes pop out when he gets home from work today! Especially as my housekeeping skills could be considered the bat signal for Kim and Aggie.
I really should do more packing if I want to alleviate these panic attacks. I’m so sick of seeing my books lying about like shattered glass, but at the same time I get exhausted after doing just two boxes. At this rate I’m never going to sort everything out in time for the big move to Scotland. It’ll be really amazing if they do get sorted in time. I also think I’m going to do something that I’ve never done with any of my books before: I might actually give a few of them away. There are a few titles I think Sue Anne might find interesting. The kid doesn’t appear to read enough anyway. Or at least, I haven’t really seen her with anything that has impressed me.
Thumbed through the NZ guidebooks again and beginning to wonder if Maori and Malay (the languages) belong to the same language family, or have the same proto-language stem. “Death” is mate in Maori; mati in Malay. “Fish” is ika in Maori; ikan in Malay. “Cloud” is ao in Maori; awan in Malay. “Land” or “country” is whenua in Maori; the world – lots of land! – is benua in Malay. “Water” is wai in Maori; air in Malay. I bet if I could speak Iban or Dayak I would find this exercise even more interesting. I don’t have a background in linguistics, but I love comparing and contrasting different words and/in different languages.
Phek Kin and I are in touch again. She rang me yesterday – asked if I wanted to come over for dinner and sleep over – but because the mobile has been on the blink for the last one week (I can’t even switch the damn thing on now – stupid battery!), I had no idea she called. She suggested that I give Coconut to the National Science Centre if I can’t find him a home. That’s not a bad idea… except that I don’t know a) if they have labs there and if their rabbit and guinea pig enclosure supplies them their test subjects (EEK!); b ) if the rabbits and guinea pigs are kept separately; c) even if they weren’t, if I’d want Coconut to be subjected to a lifetime of being prodded and squeezed by tots who wouldn’t know the first thing about handling guinea pigs; d) what the living conditions are like for the animals there. It’s a government facility. Not any government facility, but a Malaysian government facility. Would you trust them?
Factoids of the Week:
The Taupo volcanic zone on the North Island of New Zealand has the two most productive caldera (or crater) volcanoes in the world (Taupo and Tarawera). For the geologically disinclined, a caldera volcano occurs when a volcanic eruption is so immense that the ground surface collapses into the hole left behind.
This next factoid is from the BBC – gotta love them. Characters in Shaun the Sheep move 25 times per second, which means animators have to reset scenes 1,500 times for just one minute of footage. They capture an average of seven seconds of footage a day. And that’s considered breakneck speed, compared to Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of The Were-Rabbit (three seconds of footage a day) and Chicken Run (two seconds was considered a good day’s work).
OK, I did my homework. Maori and Malay belong to the Austronesian language family, which encompasses 1,246 languages and 311,740,132 speakers across 38 countries. In comparison, the Indo-European language family has only 430 languages but has the largest number of speakers: 2,562,896,428 in 59 countries. The largest of the language families is the Niger-Congo, which has 1,514 languages and 358,091,103 speakers in 40 countries.
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