If I had one dream, it would be to travel to all the places in the world that I want to see, and then some. When I was younger, the world to me was my home, a flat in Tampines, and the neighbourhood surrounding it. Then it gradually became bigger, to encompass the whole of Singapore, and then parts of Malaysia, Bangkok, and on a school trip, China.
It wasn't until I was 21 that I finally got a chance to travel out of these places, to Hong Kong, which was really amazing to me then, I still remember the trip fondly.
And then, I went on exchange, to Europe, and saw many European cities. And that was where the travel bug really bit me. For the first time in my life I saw cities that I had only read about, the tastes, the smells, the sights and the sounds, they never really leave you. The impression they left on me was indelible.
And once it bites you can never stop exploring. Since then, I've seen the white and red beaches of Greece, the vineyards of France, the colourful minarets of Russian cathedrals, and the vast steppes of the Mongol plains.
And there are so many more places I want to see, and so many more things I want to do. And even as I grow older and more aware that people around me are starting to settle, getting married and having kids, my dreams grow ever bigger. And it frightens me sometimes that there is no end to them. I don't see myself stopping ever. I see myself exploring and seeing more places, and doing that year after year. And somehow, I have a feeling that even when I'm 60, I will still be doing this.
And most people do not understand why I do this. Not even my parents, or my friends. To them it seems strange that I would go to such places alone, and to so many of them. And to that, I reply that I would be very happy to have others travel with me, only that the reality is, not everybody really wants to see the same places I want to see. And even if they do, it is often not easy to coordinate schedules. And time waits for no man.
Sometimes, you get just that one chance to visit a certain place, because if you don't, who knows what life will be like for you next year. Or the year after that. Circumstances change, and it might not be possible for you to go any more. And the last thing I want to be is that guy who is too old to travel, who lives in regret wondering why he did not make that decision to go to a place he really wanted to see.
To me, I live fully believing the motto that you only live once. And in this one life, it is up to you to make all you can out of it. And what you make out of it is really the sum of all the experiences you have.
Someday I will tour the South American continent, trek in the jungles of the Amazon, ride a boat up the rivers, and climb the Andes mountains. Or I could be driving a dune buggy in the sands of the Sahara, driving from Marrakech to Casablanca, wandering through the flea markets in the cooler evenings, strolling into random cafes, smoking shisha and dancing with the Berbers. Or I could be visiting ancient ruins in Turkey, from the ancient city of Ephesus to the Hagia Sophia, then flying to the Goreme valley and taking a hot air balloon over the fairy mountains of Cappadocia.
Or I could be hiding in a little tent somewhere on an ice sheet, watching the Northern lights. And in the day I would dogsled across the icy wilderness. Or I could be stargazing in the MacKenzie basin or in the Waitomo caves of New Zealand, and while doing so I would make a trip to Middle Earth. Or I could be at a beach in the Maldives, or in the middle of the Carribean.
I also want to see wild animals in the safaris of Africa, to watch them majestically running at full stride across the plains. And I want to watch the sun set into the pyramids, casting the sands before them in shadow.
And someday, I really want to see the Middle East. I want to cross the Sinai Peninsular into Saudi Arabia. And then I want to visit Israel, and cross over into Jordan. I want to visit Petra, a rose red city half as old as time. And then somehow I will make it to Iran, of where I have seen nothing but beautiful pictures.
There is just so much to see. Sometimes, I wonder if there will be enough time.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Saturday, October 05, 2013
Singer to watch - Lorde
Introducing Lorde, a singer from New Zealand who is just 16 but is absolutely amazing. She has a voice, stage presence and songwriting ability that belies her tender age, plus she is the youngest singer to hit the number one spot in the US charts in quite a while, since 1987. The youngest ever was Stevie Wonder at 13 all the way back in 1963, but that's because he's Stevie Wonder.
She reminds me of Adele and Amy Winehouse when they first burst on the music scene, but she's younger and has quite some way to go. In an age where pop singers like Miley Cyrus dominate the headlines because of their ability to create controversy, she's a refreshing breath of air.
I'm sharing her first EP as well, so it is more apparent that she is not a one hit wonder, but has some real songwriting and singing chops.
Unsurprisingly, she already has quite a few anti-fans who are fans of Miley Cyrus, whom she displaced from the top spot in the US charts.
wo #1 on US itunes. even if it lasts an hour i feel HAPPY. downside is all these miley fans telling me they're gonna stab my rotting corpse
— Lorde (@lordemusic) September 19, 2013
Between this song and Wrecking Ball, I'd listen to this any day, thanks.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Going to some really crazy places.
A few months back I suddenly decided that I would travel from one part of the world to another, across five different timezones. While Jules Verne wrote the book around the world in 80 days, I have no such literary ambition. Neither do I have that kind of time because I get just 14 days of annual leave a year.
In any case, I knuckled down, and started planning what is probably going to be the trip of my life.
That line in black represents my approximate route. I'm going to be traversing five different timezones, over a distance of more than 6,000 kilometres, and I'm going to do it solo.
I'm cheating a little by flying from Irkutsk to St Petersburg because I decided I did not want to spend three days in a train traversing that distance, which would leave me with less time to see places. I would have done so if I did not have just 18 days to complete this journey, but we live with what we have.
I was inspired to try this trip by an intrepid traveler I met while I was backpacking across Greece last year called Sam. If you browse my entry on Greece, you will know that he was an Australian dude who worked in a vineyard. While munching on a meal of gyros and fries, he told me and another friend that he was going to take the TransSiberian from Moscow to Beijing during our last night with him in the city centre of Heraklion on Crete. He also thought it was amazing that I was still shuffling around Greece with a banged up knee and scrapes all over my elbows from an unfortunate accident while on my ATV on Santorini, but that's another story.
I thought then that it was really cool, what he was doing, but it was one of those things that you hear about, then you shove it at the back of your mind because it seems so implausible. Then by coincidence, a few months later I found out that two of my friends would be at the endpoints of the journey, at around the same time. An old acquaintance of mine from my days as a cub reporter at the New Paper was going to Moscow on exchange, and another friend of mine was working in Beijing. I drew a line between both cities, and I realised that I had to do this now, or I would never have another reason to try this journey again. So the whole planning process began.
I have to admit that right at the start, I did not really know what I was getting into. My plan was simply that, a line drawn between two places. It was only when I started going into details when I realised just how immense this trip was going to be in terms of logistical planning.
For one, it involved three different countries, of which I spoke the language of only one. I had to check out which visas I needed, and what were the immigration procedures. What modes of transport could I use? How much would all this cost? Then came the reading up about all the towns along the route I was planning. Which ones should I visit? How much time should I spend in each?
While the process was fascinating, while getting my immunisation jabs it was not so fun for me to learn that so few Singaporeans go to Russia each year that the hospitals here don't stock vaccines for tick-borne diseases, which strike a few unfortunate tourists each year and can cause some nasty health problems. I had no chance to get those vaccinations, so I'm going to cross my fingers.
A few more enquiries later, I realised that going the TransSiberian route, while a marvelous prospect, was not going to cut it for me because I would not have the luxury of time to stop along cities like Yekaterinburg and Krasnoyarsk along the way to break the endless monotony of train riding. So after weeks of planning and liaising with many different parties, I hedged out a journey that looks roughly like this. I would spend a few days in Beijing, before taking the Trans-Mongolian to Ulan Bator to stay in a ger camp with the nomads, and then I would travel up again to Irkutsk and visit the biggest freshwater lake in the world, Lake Baikal, near the village of Listvyanka, before taking a plane to St Pete and then a train to Moscow.
Beijing - Ulan Bator - Irkutsk - Listvyanka - St Petersberg - Moscow
Everyone whom I spoke to about this trip unequivocally informed me that I was fucking crazy. Never mind that I was going to places that most people would not even imagine going to, I was doing it alone. The cab driver who took me to the Russian embassy to make my visa had just one thing to say.
"You going Soviet? You crazy! Soviet so cold!"
My colleagues dismissed the trip as one of my weird expeditions. One of them had this to say.
"You always go this kind of weird weird place one. You go there and do what?"
Others found it weirder that I was doing it alone. But to me, traveling alone teaches you many things about yourself. When you travel alone, you become far more aware of your surroundings, because you have to be. You also learn what you can and cannot deal with, and you learn that no matter what, if something happens, you have to deal with it on your own, so you prepare more to avoid making the trip more dangerous than it has to be. Experiences aside, I think people generally want safe holidays, so you can focus on the right things.
I have to admit, it was not easy making the Russian visa though. For one, the consulate opens for just 2 hours every day, from 10am to noon, and it is located at a very inconvenient corner of Tanglin, which meant I had to take time off from work just to make and collect my visa. And to enter Russia, I had to come up with an invitation letter, which is honestly, for lack of a better way to describe it, fucking irritating. You have to liaise with either a tour agency in Russia, or try your luck with a dodgy motel, and they will issue a letter saying that you are staying with them for a certain period of time, even if both of you know that it is obviously a farce.
I mean, some of these dodgy motels do nothing but issue those letters, even double and triple booking people on the same rooms because no one really wants to stay with them, they just need the letter, and it suits the motels fine to just collect the fees. Apparently, you need this to show the Russian authorities that you have a place to stay in Russia. For whatever reason I do not know, because I do know one thing, if I wanted to get lost in Russia all the police in Russia would not be able to find me. I mean, have you seen how fucking big the place is?
And I had to study all the maps of all the cities that I was going to. I can honestly say that I know all of the above mentioned places fairly well now, in both their English and local language names, except for Listvyanka, which I have on good knowledge has just one main road. I tried to Google Maps it, only to find out that the place is apparently so secluded, when you try to zoom in to that place on Google Maps, you don't see anything except a grey patch. Zooming in further just gives you more grey. Maybe if I do it enough I will see pixels.
And now, I am sitting at my computer, knowing that in less than 24 hours, it all begins. I don't know what to say, or what to expect, except that it is going to be one hell of an experience. And if I do make it back, I will be very thankful.
In any case, I knuckled down, and started planning what is probably going to be the trip of my life.
That line in black represents my approximate route. I'm going to be traversing five different timezones, over a distance of more than 6,000 kilometres, and I'm going to do it solo.
I'm cheating a little by flying from Irkutsk to St Petersburg because I decided I did not want to spend three days in a train traversing that distance, which would leave me with less time to see places. I would have done so if I did not have just 18 days to complete this journey, but we live with what we have.
I was inspired to try this trip by an intrepid traveler I met while I was backpacking across Greece last year called Sam. If you browse my entry on Greece, you will know that he was an Australian dude who worked in a vineyard. While munching on a meal of gyros and fries, he told me and another friend that he was going to take the TransSiberian from Moscow to Beijing during our last night with him in the city centre of Heraklion on Crete. He also thought it was amazing that I was still shuffling around Greece with a banged up knee and scrapes all over my elbows from an unfortunate accident while on my ATV on Santorini, but that's another story.
I thought then that it was really cool, what he was doing, but it was one of those things that you hear about, then you shove it at the back of your mind because it seems so implausible. Then by coincidence, a few months later I found out that two of my friends would be at the endpoints of the journey, at around the same time. An old acquaintance of mine from my days as a cub reporter at the New Paper was going to Moscow on exchange, and another friend of mine was working in Beijing. I drew a line between both cities, and I realised that I had to do this now, or I would never have another reason to try this journey again. So the whole planning process began.
I have to admit that right at the start, I did not really know what I was getting into. My plan was simply that, a line drawn between two places. It was only when I started going into details when I realised just how immense this trip was going to be in terms of logistical planning.
For one, it involved three different countries, of which I spoke the language of only one. I had to check out which visas I needed, and what were the immigration procedures. What modes of transport could I use? How much would all this cost? Then came the reading up about all the towns along the route I was planning. Which ones should I visit? How much time should I spend in each?
While the process was fascinating, while getting my immunisation jabs it was not so fun for me to learn that so few Singaporeans go to Russia each year that the hospitals here don't stock vaccines for tick-borne diseases, which strike a few unfortunate tourists each year and can cause some nasty health problems. I had no chance to get those vaccinations, so I'm going to cross my fingers.
A few more enquiries later, I realised that going the TransSiberian route, while a marvelous prospect, was not going to cut it for me because I would not have the luxury of time to stop along cities like Yekaterinburg and Krasnoyarsk along the way to break the endless monotony of train riding. So after weeks of planning and liaising with many different parties, I hedged out a journey that looks roughly like this. I would spend a few days in Beijing, before taking the Trans-Mongolian to Ulan Bator to stay in a ger camp with the nomads, and then I would travel up again to Irkutsk and visit the biggest freshwater lake in the world, Lake Baikal, near the village of Listvyanka, before taking a plane to St Pete and then a train to Moscow.
Beijing - Ulan Bator - Irkutsk - Listvyanka - St Petersberg - Moscow
Everyone whom I spoke to about this trip unequivocally informed me that I was fucking crazy. Never mind that I was going to places that most people would not even imagine going to, I was doing it alone. The cab driver who took me to the Russian embassy to make my visa had just one thing to say.
"You going Soviet? You crazy! Soviet so cold!"
My colleagues dismissed the trip as one of my weird expeditions. One of them had this to say.
"You always go this kind of weird weird place one. You go there and do what?"
Others found it weirder that I was doing it alone. But to me, traveling alone teaches you many things about yourself. When you travel alone, you become far more aware of your surroundings, because you have to be. You also learn what you can and cannot deal with, and you learn that no matter what, if something happens, you have to deal with it on your own, so you prepare more to avoid making the trip more dangerous than it has to be. Experiences aside, I think people generally want safe holidays, so you can focus on the right things.
I have to admit, it was not easy making the Russian visa though. For one, the consulate opens for just 2 hours every day, from 10am to noon, and it is located at a very inconvenient corner of Tanglin, which meant I had to take time off from work just to make and collect my visa. And to enter Russia, I had to come up with an invitation letter, which is honestly, for lack of a better way to describe it, fucking irritating. You have to liaise with either a tour agency in Russia, or try your luck with a dodgy motel, and they will issue a letter saying that you are staying with them for a certain period of time, even if both of you know that it is obviously a farce.
I mean, some of these dodgy motels do nothing but issue those letters, even double and triple booking people on the same rooms because no one really wants to stay with them, they just need the letter, and it suits the motels fine to just collect the fees. Apparently, you need this to show the Russian authorities that you have a place to stay in Russia. For whatever reason I do not know, because I do know one thing, if I wanted to get lost in Russia all the police in Russia would not be able to find me. I mean, have you seen how fucking big the place is?
And I had to study all the maps of all the cities that I was going to. I can honestly say that I know all of the above mentioned places fairly well now, in both their English and local language names, except for Listvyanka, which I have on good knowledge has just one main road. I tried to Google Maps it, only to find out that the place is apparently so secluded, when you try to zoom in to that place on Google Maps, you don't see anything except a grey patch. Zooming in further just gives you more grey. Maybe if I do it enough I will see pixels.
And now, I am sitting at my computer, knowing that in less than 24 hours, it all begins. I don't know what to say, or what to expect, except that it is going to be one hell of an experience. And if I do make it back, I will be very thankful.
So, what does the fox say?
This music video doesn't even bother to hide the fact that it has what are possibly the most ridiculous lyrics since Rebecca Black's Friday.
Like, the whole song is about what a fox says. And the first four lines are...
Dog goes woof
Cat goes meow
Birds goes tweet
And mouse goes squeek.
Wow, just wow.
Then you hear the chorus. Which is best experienced on your own because I can't even describe it in words. Like literally, I can't.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Living a good life
“Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they
will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on
the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you
should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be
gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories
of your loved ones.” - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Recently, a correspondent from Fox News has had it bad for attacking a religious scholar during a television interview, the full version of it as presented below.
The interview itself has been likened to a car crash, with liberals having a whale of a time bashing the ignorant and bigoted views of Lauren Green, the Fox News religion correspondent. They point out that she attacked the scholar, a religious expert, just on the basis that because he was Muslim, he was not qualified to write a book about Jesus, and her line of questioning seemed to follow just that one track, with no exit route whatsoever to save whatever credibility she might have had as a thinking individual.
In a strange twist of events, the controversial biography Aslan wrote about Jesus is in fact now Amazon's top selling book in terms of sales, as her interview actually drove more people to want the book, if only to see if she had a point.
But Reza Aslan himself is no slouch on religion. Apart from his impressive academic credentials and experience in the field, his quotes on Reddit give an insight into his beliefs and his understanding of religion. When asked about what was his view on religions, specifically whether he believed there was one true faith, he likened his religious beliefs to a quote from Buddha, while also demonstrating religious tolerance.
"I think the Buddha said it right: If you want to draw water you do not dig six one foot wells. You dig one six foot well. Islam is my six foot well. I like the symbols and metaphors it uses to describe the relationship between God and humanity. But I recognize that the water I am drawing is the same water that every other well around me is drawing. And no matter the well, the water is just as sweet!"
In fact, Aslan shared another interesting titbit about monotheism, which I was astonished to learn about. He said...
"Monotheism is actually a very recent phenomenon. In the hundred thousand year history of human religious experience, monotheism is perhaps three thousand years old. That's because the idea of a single god being responsible for both good and bad, light and dark, is something that the ancient mind had a very difficult time accepting. And no wonder! The only way that monotheism finally "stuck" is thru the concept of angels and demons. In other words, it was only when all the other "gods" were demoted into spiritual beings responsible for different aspects of the human condition that people were able to accept the idea one GOD in charge of all the lower spiritual beings."
He also shared the reason why monotheistic religions might actually be the source of much conflict in today's world with the below reply to this question in the AMA by reddit user PhilosopherBaron
"As a scholar of religions, what is the fundamental difference between the Abrahamic religions that prevents, historically, and culturally a long lasting, peaceful interaction between these three? (Judaism, Islam and Christianity). Thank you for your thoughts."
"Perhaps it's partly a result of monotheism. After all if you believe there is only one God then you could easily believe that there is only one path to that one God, that there is only one myth to describe God. That means all other paths/myths are not just wrong, they are ANTI GOD. They are evil and demonic. But the truth is that Judaism, Christianity, and Islam are providing similar answers to the same questions of ultimate concern. They are just using different sets of symbols and metaphors to do so."
As someone who has an interest in religions too, to the extent that I wrote my A level General Paper on it, I found his reddit AMA an amazing read, and I have a feeling his book will be too. I know what I'm getting on Amazon next.
Recently, a correspondent from Fox News has had it bad for attacking a religious scholar during a television interview, the full version of it as presented below.
The interview itself has been likened to a car crash, with liberals having a whale of a time bashing the ignorant and bigoted views of Lauren Green, the Fox News religion correspondent. They point out that she attacked the scholar, a religious expert, just on the basis that because he was Muslim, he was not qualified to write a book about Jesus, and her line of questioning seemed to follow just that one track, with no exit route whatsoever to save whatever credibility she might have had as a thinking individual.
In a strange twist of events, the controversial biography Aslan wrote about Jesus is in fact now Amazon's top selling book in terms of sales, as her interview actually drove more people to want the book, if only to see if she had a point.
But Reza Aslan himself is no slouch on religion. Apart from his impressive academic credentials and experience in the field, his quotes on Reddit give an insight into his beliefs and his understanding of religion. When asked about what was his view on religions, specifically whether he believed there was one true faith, he likened his religious beliefs to a quote from Buddha, while also demonstrating religious tolerance.
"I think the Buddha said it right: If you want to draw water you do not dig six one foot wells. You dig one six foot well. Islam is my six foot well. I like the symbols and metaphors it uses to describe the relationship between God and humanity. But I recognize that the water I am drawing is the same water that every other well around me is drawing. And no matter the well, the water is just as sweet!"
In fact, Aslan shared another interesting titbit about monotheism, which I was astonished to learn about. He said...
"Monotheism is actually a very recent phenomenon. In the hundred thousand year history of human religious experience, monotheism is perhaps three thousand years old. That's because the idea of a single god being responsible for both good and bad, light and dark, is something that the ancient mind had a very difficult time accepting. And no wonder! The only way that monotheism finally "stuck" is thru the concept of angels and demons. In other words, it was only when all the other "gods" were demoted into spiritual beings responsible for different aspects of the human condition that people were able to accept the idea one GOD in charge of all the lower spiritual beings."
He also shared the reason why monotheistic religions might actually be the source of much conflict in today's world with the below reply to this question in the AMA by reddit user PhilosopherBaron
"As a scholar of religions, what is the fundamental difference between the Abrahamic religions that prevents, historically, and culturally a long lasting, peaceful interaction between these three? (Judaism, Islam and Christianity). Thank you for your thoughts."
"Perhaps it's partly a result of monotheism. After all if you believe there is only one God then you could easily believe that there is only one path to that one God, that there is only one myth to describe God. That means all other paths/myths are not just wrong, they are ANTI GOD. They are evil and demonic. But the truth is that Judaism, Christianity, and Islam are providing similar answers to the same questions of ultimate concern. They are just using different sets of symbols and metaphors to do so."
As someone who has an interest in religions too, to the extent that I wrote my A level General Paper on it, I found his reddit AMA an amazing read, and I have a feeling his book will be too. I know what I'm getting on Amazon next.
From the outside, looking in
I started teaching underprivileged children at a social services centre recently. Before you think I am doing it for the CIP hours, I'm not. I am a finance professional with full time employment in a financial services firm, and sometimes it honestly isn't easy to set aside the time to mentor these kids. Before I began, I informed my boss that I would be teaching these kids, and I would be doing so for several weeks, so I requested time off early so I could get to the centre on time.
I teach these children because I identify with them. I know what it is like to have to fight for opportunities in a world that scarcely gives you any if you come from the wrong side of the socioeconomic stratum. I don't do it purely out of the goodness of my heart, because whatever goodwill that comes that way will slowly be eroded thin, when you realise that what you are effectively giving up is 4 hours of your time on a weekday night, which can be very precious when you work long hours. It leaves me with barely any time to unwind when I'm done on those Tuesdays, but I always leave the centre knowing I made a difference.
I do all this because I sincerely believe that these kids deserve a chance. Anybody who is willing to put in the effort deserves a shot at happiness and a better life.
What do I mean by a better life? I was hurrying to the class last Tuesday, because I only get off at 6pm on teaching days so by the time I get to the centre I am usually about an hour late. I was rushing along the void deck, and just as I was about to approach the door to the centre, I was stopped in my tracks by a family. The father was pushing his young toddler son in a stolen supermarket trolley, picking cardboard off dustbins and any places that he could find them. The mother was accompanying them, and also entertaining the kid in the trolley.
As I approached them, I became distinctly aware that the father reeked of kerosene. I realised that he probably worked at manual labour as a painter for a construction firm, because he was also wearing clothes with paint stains on them. I also realised that he reeked so because the family was probably really poor, so poor that even soap would be an extra expense that could be better used to feed a mouth. The father saw me approaching, and he quickly apologised and moved out of my way, struggling with the trolley as he did so.
I remember being struck by the apologetic tone in his voice, when all I could feel was sadness and embarrassment on my part at having to witness a family struggling on such terms, while being unable to help them. A donation out of pity would have been an affront to the dignity of this family, still fighting to make an honest a living as possible given their circumstances.
This is the underbelly of Singapore that not many people see. While most of us are busy caught up in our lives, trying to eat at the fanciest restaurants, buy the nicest clothes and go for the nicest holidays, we don't realise that there are those who are left behind, eking out an existence so that the next generation can live a better life.
Even at the centre, when I teach the kids, they sometimes tell me things that make me realise I can never help them enough. They tell me about how they do not have an English dictionary at home, so they cannot learn the meanings of English words that they don't understand in their school homework. They tell me about how their parents are sick, and how their favourite place is home because it is the only place they know apart from school. They tell me about how their parents cannot find work, or about how they don't understand their homework sometimes but there is no one to help them.
I help them as much as I can, but sometimes I realise that it is a bridge too far to cross. But I do know that the three hours I spend with them on those nights is three hours more than anyone else would have cared to give them. And I know that every week, I give them three hours more. I try to show them that even if they don't have the best of circumstances, they can fight for their dreams.
And many of their dreams are simple. To be a chef, because they really like to eat. To be a doctor, because their parents are sick and they want to help them. To be a teacher, because they really like their teachers in school and they look up to them.
Working with these kids gives me a reality check every week. And it also gives me the strength to keep on fighting, so that one day, I can fight for them.
I teach these children because I identify with them. I know what it is like to have to fight for opportunities in a world that scarcely gives you any if you come from the wrong side of the socioeconomic stratum. I don't do it purely out of the goodness of my heart, because whatever goodwill that comes that way will slowly be eroded thin, when you realise that what you are effectively giving up is 4 hours of your time on a weekday night, which can be very precious when you work long hours. It leaves me with barely any time to unwind when I'm done on those Tuesdays, but I always leave the centre knowing I made a difference.
I do all this because I sincerely believe that these kids deserve a chance. Anybody who is willing to put in the effort deserves a shot at happiness and a better life.
What do I mean by a better life? I was hurrying to the class last Tuesday, because I only get off at 6pm on teaching days so by the time I get to the centre I am usually about an hour late. I was rushing along the void deck, and just as I was about to approach the door to the centre, I was stopped in my tracks by a family. The father was pushing his young toddler son in a stolen supermarket trolley, picking cardboard off dustbins and any places that he could find them. The mother was accompanying them, and also entertaining the kid in the trolley.
As I approached them, I became distinctly aware that the father reeked of kerosene. I realised that he probably worked at manual labour as a painter for a construction firm, because he was also wearing clothes with paint stains on them. I also realised that he reeked so because the family was probably really poor, so poor that even soap would be an extra expense that could be better used to feed a mouth. The father saw me approaching, and he quickly apologised and moved out of my way, struggling with the trolley as he did so.
I remember being struck by the apologetic tone in his voice, when all I could feel was sadness and embarrassment on my part at having to witness a family struggling on such terms, while being unable to help them. A donation out of pity would have been an affront to the dignity of this family, still fighting to make an honest a living as possible given their circumstances.
This is the underbelly of Singapore that not many people see. While most of us are busy caught up in our lives, trying to eat at the fanciest restaurants, buy the nicest clothes and go for the nicest holidays, we don't realise that there are those who are left behind, eking out an existence so that the next generation can live a better life.
Even at the centre, when I teach the kids, they sometimes tell me things that make me realise I can never help them enough. They tell me about how they do not have an English dictionary at home, so they cannot learn the meanings of English words that they don't understand in their school homework. They tell me about how their parents are sick, and how their favourite place is home because it is the only place they know apart from school. They tell me about how their parents cannot find work, or about how they don't understand their homework sometimes but there is no one to help them.
I help them as much as I can, but sometimes I realise that it is a bridge too far to cross. But I do know that the three hours I spend with them on those nights is three hours more than anyone else would have cared to give them. And I know that every week, I give them three hours more. I try to show them that even if they don't have the best of circumstances, they can fight for their dreams.
And many of their dreams are simple. To be a chef, because they really like to eat. To be a doctor, because their parents are sick and they want to help them. To be a teacher, because they really like their teachers in school and they look up to them.
Working with these kids gives me a reality check every week. And it also gives me the strength to keep on fighting, so that one day, I can fight for them.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Carly Rae Jepsen throws a hilariously bad first pitch
The lady can belt out the notes, but she certainly can't throw a ball to save her life. Gave me a good laugh first thing in the morning.
Friday, July 05, 2013
You know where you are? You're in the jungle baby! And you're gonna die!
Classic GNR moment circa 1988. Featuring Axl Rose, the personification of the wayward American youth who just had enough talent to become a rock star. I can't believe how his speaking voice changes when he sings, but its screechingly awesome.
Amazing bit of trivia about Axl Rose? He doesn't have a drug habit, according to Wikipedia. Still didn't stop him from fucking his life up on drink though. But whatever, this shit was golden. And it was at a time when GNR still had Slash, the shaggy haired guitar god. Too bad awesomeness never lasts.
Thursday, July 04, 2013
Vivo Per Lei
Vivo Per Lei ("I live for her" in Italian) performed by Andrea Bocelli and Judy Weiss, one of my favourite Italian songs. The lyrics are a little corny when translated, but otherwise it is a fine duet between two very good singers. For all the things that Italians are, they are very passionate and hot blooded people, and it shows in their songs.
Listening to this song reminds me of an Italian policewoman I once saw in Venice, directing traffic at a busy intersection. Immaculately coiffed, as all Italian women are, with bronzed skin, a full figure slightly suggestive under the perfectly fitting uniform and a voluminous crop of jet black hair topped off with red lipstick, she was a traffic stopping sight without being intentionally so. But the moment words came out of her mouth, the illusion was for me, instantly shattered. She had the speaking voice of an auntie in a fish market, coarse, loud and brash. And I was to find that this was the case for almost all the Italian women I met. They were as gorgeous as they were tempestuous.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Eh, this raining got ice cube!
A remix of the Indian lady who spoke about the hail on News 5 Tonight. Too awesome not to share. Fucking hilarious.
Monday, June 24, 2013
morning jams
I recently discovered this website called 8tracks. Maybe I'm a little slow to this internet radio thing, but it has totally changed my life. And no this is not some internet advertisement where I peddle the latest sleazy drug to enhance parts of the body that nobody really wants to know about but are somehow rampant throughout the internet, although if you believe those ads, having an extra 2 inches or cup size really "changes your life'. Wow.
Well, the best way to really experience this new website is to try it out yourself here so you can see what I'm talking about.
Basically, 8tracks is a site where you choose up to two labels, and then it generates a bunch of playlists that match those labels. And the really amazing thing about this site is, it allows you to leverage on the music tastes of literally thousands of people, who have curated their list just so people like you and me can approve it. And the top lists that I've discovered so far are nothing short of awesome, as long as you don't be a douchebag and go click happy + pop and then click disney channel or something similar. Because what you then get is the kind of shit 13 year old girls play, like Hannah Montana and Bieber.
And as I have mentioned before, you can't trust anything that comes out of a 13 year old girl's mouth, or anything she does for that matter. Anybody that camps in a garbage truck hoping to crash a Bieber concert via the waste disposal route is beyond retarded.
From 8tracks, I discovered gems like Someday by Joe Brooks, that I'm featuring a live version of, on 987fm no less. I thought that channel was full of hiphop garbage, but it seems that they have upped their music taste recently. Somehow, songs with a name like Someday never disappoint, like the two other great versions by Sugar Ray and The Strokes, which were my chill jams in secondary school and university.
The other song I'm featuring is Let Her Go by Passenger. The dude has a funny voice and looks like a hobo, which is probably what it takes to have some credibility as an indie singer-songwriter. I mean, have you seen Samuel Beam from Iron and Wine doing his live performances. Yeah, definite unwashed hippy/hobo/weed stoned junkie with a beard that could rival Jesus, but the dude can sing.
Loving 8tracks so far. And I can't say enough how much it has added to my musical exposure.
Well, the best way to really experience this new website is to try it out yourself here so you can see what I'm talking about.
Basically, 8tracks is a site where you choose up to two labels, and then it generates a bunch of playlists that match those labels. And the really amazing thing about this site is, it allows you to leverage on the music tastes of literally thousands of people, who have curated their list just so people like you and me can approve it. And the top lists that I've discovered so far are nothing short of awesome, as long as you don't be a douchebag and go click happy + pop and then click disney channel or something similar. Because what you then get is the kind of shit 13 year old girls play, like Hannah Montana and Bieber.
And as I have mentioned before, you can't trust anything that comes out of a 13 year old girl's mouth, or anything she does for that matter. Anybody that camps in a garbage truck hoping to crash a Bieber concert via the waste disposal route is beyond retarded.
From 8tracks, I discovered gems like Someday by Joe Brooks, that I'm featuring a live version of, on 987fm no less. I thought that channel was full of hiphop garbage, but it seems that they have upped their music taste recently. Somehow, songs with a name like Someday never disappoint, like the two other great versions by Sugar Ray and The Strokes, which were my chill jams in secondary school and university.
The other song I'm featuring is Let Her Go by Passenger. The dude has a funny voice and looks like a hobo, which is probably what it takes to have some credibility as an indie singer-songwriter. I mean, have you seen Samuel Beam from Iron and Wine doing his live performances. Yeah, definite unwashed hippy/hobo/weed stoned junkie with a beard that could rival Jesus, but the dude can sing.
Loving 8tracks so far. And I can't say enough how much it has added to my musical exposure.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
She's always a woman to me
She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child,
But she's always a woman to me
She can lead you to love
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe you
And she'll take what you give her, as long as it's free
Yeah, she steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me
CHORUS:
Oh--she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh--and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
And she'll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me
She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
And she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
Monday, June 03, 2013
the postmodern jukebox.
Sometimes you think you've seen pretty much everything that Youtube has to offer, then something comes by that makes you go wow.
I'm been watching videos by a young jazz pianist called Scott Bradlee hailing from New York City, where he does mashups of modern songs reimagined in the swing and big band style. Yes, with a backing band that uses the big band staples of a trombone, a saxophone, a double bass, brush-like drumsticks, smooth clarinet runs, and a piano comping along to recreate a sound that would not be out of place in the New York of 1920. And the results are really amazing. It helps that they all dress the part and the vocalist sings really well.
They covered Justin Bieber's Beauty and a Beat here but I forgive them because they make it way better than the original. KurtHugoSchneider and Alex Goot did a cover too featuring Chrissy Costanza who is incredibly easy to look at, but musicality wise it has nothing on this cover.
The vocalist is amazing.
And here's the kicker. They covered Psy's Gentleman too, and I love everything about it, from the singer to the backing band to the two ladies dancing at the side.
The playlist is called Postmodern Jukebox on Youtube, so if you want to see more of their amazing work, simply click here http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7A4D9C100657150E
I'm been watching videos by a young jazz pianist called Scott Bradlee hailing from New York City, where he does mashups of modern songs reimagined in the swing and big band style. Yes, with a backing band that uses the big band staples of a trombone, a saxophone, a double bass, brush-like drumsticks, smooth clarinet runs, and a piano comping along to recreate a sound that would not be out of place in the New York of 1920. And the results are really amazing. It helps that they all dress the part and the vocalist sings really well.
They covered Justin Bieber's Beauty and a Beat here but I forgive them because they make it way better than the original. KurtHugoSchneider and Alex Goot did a cover too featuring Chrissy Costanza who is incredibly easy to look at, but musicality wise it has nothing on this cover.
The vocalist is amazing.
And here's the kicker. They covered Psy's Gentleman too, and I love everything about it, from the singer to the backing band to the two ladies dancing at the side.
The playlist is called Postmodern Jukebox on Youtube, so if you want to see more of their amazing work, simply click here http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7A4D9C100657150E
Saturday, April 20, 2013
When the boss says something stupid
I do not enjoy slagging off my superiors. I believe that work is a strictly 9 to 6 affair, and out of the office I do not partake in discussion about its frivolities because the downtime is meant to be savoured.
However, there do come moments when your patience is worn thin and it takes every single fibre of your being to simply rein yourself in, as the alternative would be to call out the blatant stupidity you cannot believe you are witnessing and earn yourself a one way ticket to the exit door. If there is one thing you learn at work, it is that bosses do not appreciate it when you point out correctly that they are wrong.
I understand the value of saving face for one's superiors, if only to better manage the superior-subordinate relationship, but if that means that I go ahead with a project that will eventually waste more company resources without bringing any real benefit to the company, for example the generation of countless reports that nobody will read that have no real use when there are ten other more pertinent things to do, sometimes there is a need to draw the line. After all, you inevitably grow tired of creating reports that get thrown into a pile of papers never again to see the light of day.
Sometimes, actually proving the boss wrong makes the situation worse when the boss takes a moment out to think, realises that you are actually right, and then proceeds to systematically show you why she's right despite not having a case by diverting the topic and beating around the bush before losing you in the midst of the verbal maze she has now woven into the discussion. The only reason you give up trying to win the argument is, it is now time for lunch or knockoff and you do not want to lose any more of that time on what would be an exercise in futility.
The latest episode involved clarification of a product feature for one of the product lines we carried. I suggested that we contacted the account manager handling the product, but the suggestion was quickly shot down because my boss insisted that we had no right to contact the account manager. I could not help but ask myself "If the account manager's job is not to manage his account (aka us) and handle our queries, then what exactly would his job scope be?"
Apparently, it involves not picking up our calls and trying to make the account more manageable by not managing it. A contradiction? Perhaps, but there is also a grain of truth in it. When people realise that you are not contactable, they stop trying to contact you, and your work actually becomes easier. When they actually need to contact you, they will do so anyway, so somehow not picking up calls filters out all but the most important calls.
All of this makes me glad sometimes that I learnt how to think on my feet in school, so that I can craft a story in my head while spinning another one to the boss, before tying it all together so that it becomes a beautiful coherent picture. Some days, I do it so well it brings tears to my eyes, but they flow on the inside, tears of stupendous amazement at how adroit on selling deception I have become. If this sounds cynical, I would qualify that these days, work is no longer about getting work done, but rather managing the boss.
Boss says something stupid? Let her know that she's right, but don't ever put the suggestion into action. If she ever asks, which she rarely does because she forgets, tell her that the situation has been resolved without going into the details. Rarely will bosses ask about details, because since they don't do the work, the details just confuse them. And sometimes, the best way to kill stupid is to simply let it die a natural death.
However, there do come moments when your patience is worn thin and it takes every single fibre of your being to simply rein yourself in, as the alternative would be to call out the blatant stupidity you cannot believe you are witnessing and earn yourself a one way ticket to the exit door. If there is one thing you learn at work, it is that bosses do not appreciate it when you point out correctly that they are wrong.
I understand the value of saving face for one's superiors, if only to better manage the superior-subordinate relationship, but if that means that I go ahead with a project that will eventually waste more company resources without bringing any real benefit to the company, for example the generation of countless reports that nobody will read that have no real use when there are ten other more pertinent things to do, sometimes there is a need to draw the line. After all, you inevitably grow tired of creating reports that get thrown into a pile of papers never again to see the light of day.
Sometimes, actually proving the boss wrong makes the situation worse when the boss takes a moment out to think, realises that you are actually right, and then proceeds to systematically show you why she's right despite not having a case by diverting the topic and beating around the bush before losing you in the midst of the verbal maze she has now woven into the discussion. The only reason you give up trying to win the argument is, it is now time for lunch or knockoff and you do not want to lose any more of that time on what would be an exercise in futility.
The latest episode involved clarification of a product feature for one of the product lines we carried. I suggested that we contacted the account manager handling the product, but the suggestion was quickly shot down because my boss insisted that we had no right to contact the account manager. I could not help but ask myself "If the account manager's job is not to manage his account (aka us) and handle our queries, then what exactly would his job scope be?"
Apparently, it involves not picking up our calls and trying to make the account more manageable by not managing it. A contradiction? Perhaps, but there is also a grain of truth in it. When people realise that you are not contactable, they stop trying to contact you, and your work actually becomes easier. When they actually need to contact you, they will do so anyway, so somehow not picking up calls filters out all but the most important calls.
All of this makes me glad sometimes that I learnt how to think on my feet in school, so that I can craft a story in my head while spinning another one to the boss, before tying it all together so that it becomes a beautiful coherent picture. Some days, I do it so well it brings tears to my eyes, but they flow on the inside, tears of stupendous amazement at how adroit on selling deception I have become. If this sounds cynical, I would qualify that these days, work is no longer about getting work done, but rather managing the boss.
Boss says something stupid? Let her know that she's right, but don't ever put the suggestion into action. If she ever asks, which she rarely does because she forgets, tell her that the situation has been resolved without going into the details. Rarely will bosses ask about details, because since they don't do the work, the details just confuse them. And sometimes, the best way to kill stupid is to simply let it die a natural death.
Sunday, April 07, 2013
Michael Jackson's influences.
A very interesting video that really summarises how genius is really the product of genius before it. It was nice to realise that MJ was inspired by Fred Astaire, who was also quite the dancer in his time.
Astaire's dance with Ginger Rogers for the song Cheek to Cheek is still one of my favourite classic dance scenes in the movies.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
microsoft has great taste in music.
The two latest songs advertising Windows 8 have been in my playlist for quite awhile because they are really catchy. The first is "Everything at Once" by Lenka, who I would really like to meet because she's quirky and writes great music. Unfortunately, her tour locations are as quirky as her songs. Like this year, she's going to Moscow? Like seriously?
The second would be "Do what you want" by Daphne Willis. I believe this song fits into the "damn this song is ridiculously catchy but what the hell is the song called" category. So well, here's the song for you.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
best youtube conversation ever.
the persistence of memory
There is music, then there is music.
Jonathan and Charlotte found fame as an awkward pair with classical crossover chops on Britain's Got Talent, but their rendition of Muse's Unintended blew me away.
I remember first listening to this song in 2007, and it was quite an epiphany for me, because I was in a dark place at the time and this song spoke to me, with its strangely surrealist music video that referenced the painting "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt.
The song and video piqued my interest in the works of surrealism, perhaps best represented by the painting "The Persistence of Memory" by Salvador Dali. A meditation in forms between the lines of space and time, and between the realms of dreams and reality, it seemed a perfect metaphor for my life in that period of time, where time ceased to have meaning, where the days were as dark as night, and the nights fused into the days and everything in between. I existed in my dreams, and in reality, all at once, and in between, and there were days when I genuinely did not know which was which.
And then I listened to this version, and all the hairs on my neck stood on end. It has been quite awhile since I've listened to a song that did that for me. It was a short and sharp reminder of a previous time, a time that time itself has buried in the years since, a time different and yet familiar, so much that for a moment I felt like I could smell and taste the notes in the air, and experience again the sights and sounds of where I used to be, all those years ago.
Then as quickly as it began, the song ends, and I'm back at my desk again. And while it was an interesting trip down memory lane, I find that life has changed in many ways since.
Monday, January 28, 2013
What the by-election meant to me
As a young man in Singapore, this by-election was a vindication more than anything else. I was happy that voters were again able to give the PAP a clear sign that the ground was very unhappy, and change was badly needed.
It is the first time I remember a PAP single-seat ward snatched away by the WP, by a margin so extensive our DPM could not hide his dark mask of disappointment from the media, as pictured. Such was the magnitude of the loss, a recount was not necessary.
Even in the historic GRC win of Aljunied in 2011, it was down to the wire. And that was due in a large part to the presence of former Minister George Yeo, who was generally a well-liked Minister in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was not an uncommon sentiment that many were sad to see him go, although they savoured the slaughter of a sacred cow. The mountain that was a opposition GRC victory was no longer insurmountable.
This time, there was no mercy afforded to the PAP. Entering the by-election as the incumbent and favourite, it was handed a rout, through and through. In fact, a post-mortem of the election results revealed that the PAP candidate had lost in every single one of the polling stations. Simply put, the PAP had not polled a majority in any part of Punggol East. This was surely unprecedented, a clear cut rejection of the PAP.
Much has been said about how Dr Koh was a new face, and about how voters were unfamiliar with him. Some of the defeat may have hinged on how Dr Koh, as a top surgeon, was cut from a different cloth from much of the electorate. Voters felt unable to relate to him, and he was unproven and untested. If there was one thing he was lacking, it was warmth, a common foible in elitist types.
And this was where Ms Lee Li Lian stood out. As a young woman with a ready smile, she had spades of warmth where Dr Koh did not. Some of the victory also hinged on how Ms Lee, as a young married woman and soon to be mother, was closer to the profile of the electorate in Punggol East. As a person with a less than stellar educational record and a career as a sales trainer, she had both the heartlander credentials and the people touch borne out of a career as a salesperson. She also had the advantage of having walked the ground much longer than Dr Koh, a last minute candidate parachuted in from their party's elite ranks.
But more than anything else, voters were using this election to send a message. It is a message that most of my generation are already familiar with, the oft-repeated refrain that costs of living are simply too high, and voters are no longer willing to put up with it. With flats going for record prices and COE hitting the $100k mark in the open category, it has become almost impossible for the average man in the street to own a car and a flat without going into serious debt.
And the costs have other trickle down effects. Singles are struggling to raise enough money for marriage, putting it off till later. And even those who are married are struggling to raise children in this environment, where most choose to have just one child so they can maximise the limited resources at their disposal.
In such an environment, ministerial salaries are a convenient flashpoint. The average Singaporean would not begrudge their ministers a high salary simply for the sake of it. The real issue is that the average Singaporean no longer feels that his needs are being taken care of, and seeing their ministers are unaffected and slow to respond to the pertinent issues at hand, starts to wonder whether their salaries are justified.
Add that to the persistent problems with a stagnant economy and unemployment, a large influx of foreigners suddenly in our midst, and the gradual breakdown of our once much vaunted public transport system, it is clear that something here has reached breaking point.
It does not help either that this is the time where public servants are increasingly finding themselves being dragged through the media for less than savoury reasons, which is a stain on the much valued credibility of the ruling party.
Now, the PAP can no longer go to the polls and expect the electoral mandate to be simply handed back to them. With a record card that is far less than stellar, and lacking the moral high ground to back its recruitment and selection process as well as popular backing for its policies, the party is indeed in a crisis.
With the PAP being viewed as increasingly out of touch with the electorate, the voters have spoken. The party now begins the slow process of bridging that gap.
Monday, December 17, 2012
It's that time of the year again.
All of this could not be further from my reality. My family doesn't celebrate Christmas. On Christmas Day, my house looks exactly like any other day, maybe cleaner, because I actually have the time to sweep it, and nobody is coming around to mess it up.
Today, that might be unthinkable. But to my parents, and my extended family, celebrating it is unthinkable, because they never celebrated it growing up, and they don't identify with it. To my family, Christmas is really just a day of rest from work, no different from any other holiday. Any attempts to make it more than what it is are construed as a waste of money, and met with disdain and disapproval.
I already know how this Christmas will be spent, because it is the same every year. I sit at home, and wait for it to end. Maybe I play a game, or I read a book. There really isn't anywhere to go, because the shops are closed, and all my friends are at their own family parties. If it sounds boring, it is. I would be lying if I said I didn't wish that sometimes it would be different. But you come to accept some things.
In a sense, I understand why all this is so. I don't identify with the supposed religious significance of Christmas. If anything, I would rationally challenge that Christmas is a pagan festival. But in the modern context, Christmas is not solely about religion and what it means to be a good Christian. The real reason why Christmas is important now is far less complicated than that. It is the same reason why the festival gaining popularity, and catching on with people of all faiths and cultures.
Christmas is a festival where it is okay to be commercialised, materialistic, and superficial, as long as you are happy, and as long as you make others happy. It is a time where the state of being happy and spreading love is not judged, because it is what you are expected to be. That in itself is something very precious, and for all those who would argue against the evils of Christmas and the inevitable shopping that comes with it, I would simply put it to them that maybe, we all just need that one day to just be happy and not have all that baggage that comes from doing so.
It seems almost silly, that in this age we have to be "allowed" to be happy. But the nature of life today rarely affords us time to be. If we are not working we are studying. And it is difficult to escape how busy we can become, if we allow ourselves to get caught up in everything we are expected to be involved in. There are those who would also argue that you can be happy just going about your daily life. That is perfectly true, but the interest of a capitalist world is in promoting a state of non-satiation, so you are constantly told that you cannot be happy unless you have more. Without doing so, economies would run into a standstill, because the production line never stops, and someone has to consume all those goods.
If you are wondering why happiness may be fleeting or superficial, it may well be because the pursuit of happiness has become the pursuit of material goods. You can't be happy unless you have the biggest car, the nicest house, and go on the most extravagant and ridiculously protracted holidays, buying up a storm wherever you go. You are constantly looking over your shoulder at others who seem to have more than you do, so much that you can't look at your own situation, and just accept what it is. It takes a very strong human being to tell himself the pursuit of material riches is not for him, because materialism is supposedly wrong. So you are being sent mixed signals. On one hand, you are told to buy all you can, and on the other, you are judged for doing so. Is it any wonder we need a license to be happy these days?
Today, I experimented with being a materialistic person. I threw all my conceptions of money out of the window, and just walked around Orchard Road buying presents. I shopped up quite a storm, and I have a buttload of receipts to prove it. All I can say is, it felt damn fucking good. All my life, I'd been telling myself I shouldn't spend money, that I should save it for a rainy day. But maybe, just maybe, I had forgotten that sometimes, just spending it occasionally is okay.
We all deserve to be happy, and life is too short to think otherwise. But more than anything else, I realised that I was happy because I was buying these gifts to deliver happiness to other people. Money by itself is hollow. Buying gifts by itself is also hollow, which is why you derive no happiness in buying a gift for someone you could not give a rat's ass about. It is the symbolism behind the gift, that you care about someone else, that you care about yourself enough to make that effort to deliver that extra little bit of happiness, that really matters. And it was a relief to finally take a break from judging how I used money for one day, within reasonable limits.
All this being said, I would still like to have that house in the picture. It does seem so nice, doesn't it?
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