Monday, December 17, 2007

Comfort Foods

I've been ill.

Not to worry, I'm getting better. But being ill is like your body's little reminder for you to stop, take a breather, and let the rest of the world get on with what it's doing for once.

Which is exactly what I'm doing - and probably why I have found the time to blog (having taken some much needed time off work to do the things that keep me sane*).

I've been sleeping a lot. That's one thing I do particularly much of when I am ill - it's my miracle cure to everything. I swear, it's better than chicken soup and penicillin (though those help too).

Somewhere in my half-waking moments, I'd dreamt that I'd woken up to the smell of freshly baked cookies. It was most definitely a dream, because unless I'd sleepwalked my way to the oven, baked a bunch and put it in, there was most certainly no other Christmas elf around that would be figuring out the oven in my house.

It led me to think about comfort foods - tastes and smells that just make one feel better when one is ill.

My comfort foods used to be:
  1. Minced pork with garlic soup
  2. Pi Tan Porridge
  3. Rice Krispies or Corn Flakes with warm milk (I'm a Kellogg's baby)
  4. Quaker oats and condensed milk
  5. Teh (the kopitiam type with condensed milk - something about the milk and sugar combination is very soothing)
  6. Ginger tea
  7. Yong Tau Foo - which I eat even when I'm not ill

They now are:

  1. Vegetable soup or any creamy soup of any kind
  2. Quaker oats and condensed milk
  3. Warm apple juice and cinnamon - I wish Lemsip came in warm apple juice and cinammon flavours!
  4. Toast - with butter, with ham, with jam, with nothing at all. just toast
  5. Warm honey with lemon juice
  6. Carr's Table Water

So some things change and others don't. I have found that oats settle one's stomach much more than porridge, but takes a stronger stomach for digestion - so they're useful in a flu situation, and less so in a bad tummy situation.

I guess I never do eat very much when I'm ill in the first place, but give me a choice of what to eat in the worst of situations, and the list above would be what I probably could not live without. The food we eat and come to love must surely be a function of where we are. I believe this now wholeheartedly - just look at how my comfort foods have adapted themselves to harsher climes.

That said, I still take my pi pa gao loyally when I am down with a sore throat.

* Incidentally which were, in no particular order - the laundry, socks and fleeces; cook soup; blog; admire the flowers; sleep.

The Season of Soups

January's BBC Good Food Guide finds one new year's resolution to always have home cooked soup sitting on the stove. I just realised this morning how easy it was to make, and how - given some time, mainly the chief ingredient of a good soup - this was one resolution that will keep one warm and toasty at home in the winter time.

For me, warm soups are comfort foods. Ever since I discovered Pret a Manger's soup collection, which started recently in autumn, I've been chasing up soups and soup recipes from all over.

In a cafe in Nuits-St-Georges on a recent French trip, I discovered what would possibly be the warmest, nicest, easiest to make vegetable soup possible. The secret? A Marigold brand vegetable bouillon stock powder that I have sitting on a shelf at home, thanks to enuwy's lovely recommendation a while back.

So upon coming down with a bad cold and wanting to experiment with the warming qualities of vegetable soup, I've decided to make my own:

Vegetable Soup

3 carrots
2 parsnips
1/2 a floret of broccoli
handful of barley (optional)
2 tsp bouillon stock powder
750 ml water
pepper

1. Chop vegetables roughly and throw into pot.
2. Sprinkle over with the bouillon powder and some pepper to taste.
3. Cover with hot water and bring to a slow boil.
4. Allow to boil for at least 1-2 hours for the vegetable flavours to set.
5. With a stick blender, blend into a creamy soup. Serve.

The soup feeds about 2-3 and in reality, you can toss in any sort of vegetable you like. In fact, I have my suspicion that this is one soup you can keep boiling on the stove regularly, topping up with leftover vegetables and other unwanted odd ends. Just remember to toss in a hearty amount of bouillon powder for taste and blend before serving.

This is one soup I'm definitely going to keep on my stove all winter!

Monday, November 05, 2007

Of many twinkling, coloured lights

This year's Guy Fawkes Day was very different from the last. I was on a plane flying back from Dublin when the celebrations threw many coloured lights into the air. As a matter of fact, I was in the window seat on the plane as it landed in Heathrow airport.

I doubt many people remember the true significance of the 5th of November anymore here, all it is now is an excuse to light fireworks and have something special to do for the evening with the kids while as many twinkling coloured lights as you can manage burst into the air.

For me, by concidence, it became a revelation of astonishing beauty.

As the plane flew long over London, the ground laid out like glittering embroidery. The rolling, curving lines of street lamps, buildings, the Thames moved like a fabric, one that was fit for any queen. Every now and then, a light winked and shone, as we passed away from the tall office buildings and over households, street upon street of lined houses, gathering the fireworks for the evening.

Almost gradually, the fireworks started, rising from the ground silently, bursting in slow motion. One, then another, and another. This must be the first time I have ever seen a meme made visible. Household after household, it was a hope, a thought, a prayer rising in solemn celebration from the ground.

As the plane landed, there were still fireworks going off around Heathrow, as if the land itself was saying "this is not enough, there is more". I cannot describe how exactly the angles changed, as fireworks seen from above started to grow, and spread itself from tender bubbles into glowing umbrellas, then finally into fiery rain.

But I think I know now why the window seat is Monsieur G's favourite spot on the plane.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Things to do in a hotel room

I suppose my blog has evolved into something I do only when I'm travelling. Although fret not, I'm travelling so much these days, I end up blogging more often than when I don't travel at all and stay in with many other things to do.

So I'm sitting here in a fancy schmancy hotel room (Hilton, so it's posh but not too classy) and wondering what some things to do in a hotel room that you wouldn't necessarily want to do at home would be - smart things, practical things, get your mind out of the gutter.

And it occurred to me that a really clever thing to do would be to dye your hair. (Girls only at this point, unless guys are interested in L'Oreal hair dye products as well).

So one thing I learnt this time on my trip is that the US is known for some things which are unbelievably cheaper than back home (regardless which you consider at the moment). And these things, surprisingly are:
  1. Hair dye
  2. Shampoo
  3. Moisturizer
  4. Cosmetics
  5. Nail polish

Just to name a few. So you could technically pamper yourself with a remarkably well done, self serviced spa trip, all in the comforts of your own room.

Which is exactly what I did.

Now a few reasons why this makes absolutely perfect sense for a paying customer, and you will get this if you've ever tried to dye your hair in the comforts of your own home:

  1. You don't fret whether the hair dye is going to fall on the floor and stain the bathroom floor because they don't get mopped up until your next hair dye job, since housekeeping takes care of this every single day.
  2. You don't run out of towels for your hair as they're usually in free flow, plentiful supply if you don't care enough about the environment to hang them up and save the hotel some money. Granted, they are white, so you do feel a bit guilty. But the dye washes off (presumably).
  3. Hotels usually come with a disposable shower cap, and if you are lucky, some of them also come with a comb, which is perfect for application and retention of the hair dye in a semi-professional manner.
  4. Hotels usually come also with large mirrors, so you can look at your hair while applying the hair dye every which way.
  5. Hotels are also equipped with shampoo, conditioner, unlimited supply of water (and potentially tissues for mopping up mess) and a hair dryer. These are all essential in the journey to a successful self-dye job.

So I wonder that people don't get the idea from Natasha in Species more often when serial killers dye their hair (and sometimes even give themselves haircuts) in the comfort of their own hotel rooms, the better to disguise their appearances when wanted by the police.

In fact, it's so convenient, and provides so much unpredicted benefits to the paying customer that from a hotel's point of view, it should be illegal or else paid for in extra dollars contributing towards potentially stained bath mats, towels, bathroom floors and other effects.

But for now, I'm loving it. And with a new and trendy hair colour coming out of the hotel room, I'm all for it.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

On Mountains and Molehills

[Writing this from the airport at Vancouver after spending a week on Whistler, Canada.]

I never thought that I would be one for mountains, tall pine trees, snow and the near freezing cold, but I suppose people change or else discover a deeper realization about themselves than they know.

Something about the air made me think about what I was really about. And I started to compile a new playlist. This one's of interest actually -

If you could only have one playlist (hypothetically - imagine a somewhat broken down iPod) to be stuck with on a desert island with potentially no hope of rescue, what would that be? (And to be fair, you can't create a playlist of all the songs on your iPod either)
  1. Black Eyed Peas - Where is the Love
  2. Youssou N'Dour - 7 Seconds
  3. Tori Amos - 1000 Oceans
  4. John Mayer - No Such Thing
  5. Cranberries - Dreams
  6. Cranberries - Linger
  7. Cranberries - When You're Gone
  8. Cranberries - Free to Decide
  9. Sting - Shape of My Heart
  10. Sting - When We Dance

That surprised me. Almost to the extent that I'm nearly realizing (we're on the edge of something here) that probably inside me there is a black, politically charged activist longing to sing out loud. Perhaps this is no surprise if you read my blog from times ago. I'm not entirely surprised if hidden behind the power suits and analytical frameworks, a hip-hopping, french-speaking girl whose favourite outfit are loose sweat shirts, jeans and t-shirts with greenpeace messages is still existent.

These are some of my all-time favourite songs. They get me up in the morning, they remind me of the best times of my life. But as much as they are reminiscent of times past, they're also a sharp reminder that these best times are times now past. With faces of friends that I love most, but do not meet.

Instead, I let my shopping define a different person from the person that my colleagues thought they knew. I bought 3 ski jackets, a bag that I absolutely adored with brown/mint tribal patterns on it: "It's a bit fractal..." was what Mariusz, one of my colleagues, said about it.

If there's one thing my colleagues learnt about me during this trip, it is that they had only scratched the surface of what they think they know about me in this one year of interaction. Funny enough, I had the same realization, except I know what I value now - the hiking, the trees, the crisp, cold air, the powder (snow), snowboarding, funk, dogs.

If I had my way about it, my perfect holiday trip would now involve a ski village, a golden retriever, and many walks in the snow and along the lake.

And I never thought I had it in me to be a nature girl.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Fast Food: Ad vs. Reality

Photographic comparison of fast food ad pictures vs. the real thing taken right after purchase.

Goes to show that if you are forced at any time to eat fast food - your safest bet is the McDonald's Filet O' Fish.

City of Meat

Just as we need arbitrary designations to govern the path of a knife, or palate,
around and through the body of the cow, so we need neighborhoods to negotiate
the dense tissue of the city.


Came across this article comparing Manhattan to cuts of a cow. Strangely enough, there's an uncanny similarity, and it's a dense but well written article.

Oh Joy

I haven't blogged for some time. I have been bogged down in the mediocrity that I call the work-home-sleep-work routine. It's a short and simple routine, easy to accomplish, and I know if I let it, it will take the next 35 years of my life.

Like Parent Hacks and Life Hacks love to make you believe, apparently there are tips - means, ways, tricks - about this business of living mundanity. Ways, like microwaves and washing machines, attempt to shorten the time it takes to go through the work-home-sleep-work routine.

It's still 24 hours all the same, no matter whether you choose Life, choose a television or choose a washing machine.

I try to be happy. But sometimes, there is very little joy in having to decide what to cook for dinner every day, waking up at exactly the same time every morning, leaving for work at precisely 7.53am in the morning and coming home when the sunlight falls dim in the horizon.

Over the course of this dreary mind-numbness we call the yuppy life, I've realised what it takes to make me smile.
  1. Do one thing different every day just for the heck of it. And it has to be obvious. If you take the bus to work, cycle. If you cycle, walk. If you walk, take the bus and talk to somebody on the way to work. Something, anything, to break the cycle that makes you forget your days.
  2. See a dog smile. OK, this might be hard for those of you who don't have dogs. But try and make a random passing animal very happy and see what that does for you. Note: animals include humans if you find it hard to be kind to a stray.
  3. Take a walk outside for 15 minutes on your own. Say nothing to yourself or anyone, even though you may have many thoughts in your head. Walk slowly. Enjoy and savour each step, each moment as the scenery on either side flick by you little by little with each passing step. Listen to the sound of your feet on the asphalt. If you like the beat faster, try jogging. If you can, try doing this around the time when the sun is either setting or rising. The result is a curious epiphany, filled with the realization of your place in the world, however big or small, and a sense of purpose about breathing and living.

I used to laugh about the vague poetry in taking in the weather, fresh air and surroundings. I suppose it must be part of living life here that suddenly, a great connection to the great outdoors wells up in some hitherto unknown part of this city girl. Suddenly there's no greater joy than to sit or walk with a loved one outside in the cool air, taking in the sunset and smiling friendly faces at passers-by.

The challenge as always, is keeping up the passion for life and everyone, keeping the romance breathing and living. It's all to easy to sink into the sofa, stay silent for two hours and hear only the occassional laughter to "Friends".

Sunday, September 09, 2007

I baked Red Velvet Cupcakes this weekend!

Red Velvet Cupcakes
Red Velvet Cupcakes,
originally uploaded by metaphoric.
It must be an interesting combination of boredom in Reading, company at home, the use of a good full sized oven and the proximity and inspiration of Hummingbird Bakery at Notting Hill that makes for my back-to-baking experience.

That's right. I'm back. I'm back in the game, I've re-entered the martial world (read: chinese translation of 再出将湖) I'm baking again.

The first of my whisking handmade exploits - the red velvet cupcakes I'm so obsessed about.

This photograph showed what's left of it (not anymore right now though). The portions I've made ended up with 4 precious cupcakes, which were gone in... well, they're gone now.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Peace is...

Her Favourite Spot
Her Favourite Spot,
originally uploaded by metaphoric.
Smiling at your dog whose found her favourite spot in her new house.

It's the smaller things. It really is.

Monday, July 30, 2007

Life's Little Pleasures

As someone I don't know anymore wisely once said, "Life is made up of little pleasures." I used to add, "Small victories", and it became my nickname for a time, and I liked it.

I'd conjured it out of irony. Small victories. They are small, no? Une petit peu. Little. Tiny. Miniscule. Nearly insignificant.

But then steps in the word victories. It is a claim, no matter how small, of a battle won. It is something to be proud of. No matter how tiny? Or does it not matter no matter how victorious, because it is so small?

How someone came to view the nickname became a measure of his optimism. It was like a litmus test of faith almost - a glass, half empty? Half full?

I'd like to think I was being ironic. An optimist embarassed to admit to hope. But some people I'd met had flat out gone for small victories like this. And I'd honestly like to say that I thank them, and admire them for their honesty in living.

At the end of the day, when the sun sets and you lock the door and throw away the key - the sum of life is truly made up of little pleasures. We'd hardly remember anything else anyway.

My little pleasures of the day:
  1. I rediscovered my oven. Ironically, I'd always prepped myself up with the mindset that my oven had too many bells and whistles. I'd somehow thought there were 4 timer settings (there are only 2) and 4 dials with 4 cooking types (and I could only think of 2: grill and oven - what else is there?!).

    It wasn't until today when I studiously read the manual (for the first time, I might add) and approached the oven with a get-to-know-you-bow usually reserved only for hippogriffs, that I realised it wasn't quite as unapproachable as I'd thought it was. It takes approx. 10 minutes top to pre-heat the oven (no setting) and there are only two main oven settings - the grill and the oven - to worry about. The rest were bells and whistles.

    One dial was for the light (imagine that! Were the makers of the oven thinking that I'd wanted mood lighting for my chicken?!) and another was for defrosting (probably a good idea in freezer to oven emergencies).

    I'd also found out that there were actually only two timers relevant to the course of baking. One, the useful one, which turns off the oven after the stated time, and the other which simply beeps and does nothing except act as a useful reminder to come to the oven and gape at the hopefully not burning dish.

    This is helpful. After some time of respectful silence at the oven's glowing door, I think I might actually come to be able to use this thing with some measure of ability. I'd better. I've been scouring baking recipes online already.
  2. Heston Blumenthal was in search of perfection on TV today. He made what was probably the truly most perfect but more tedious and time consuming bangers and mash and treacle tart with ice cream. Honestly, one thinks, how much effort could possibly go into bangers and mash?

    But no! The god of cooking himself blew my mind away by making his own bangers - including, and not limited to, soaking well toasted bread in water before using the water for the bangers, just so that a nice, roasty smell would get into the sausages, and using a gas thingymajig found at the University of Reading to deconstruct golden syrup for treacle tart.

    I have to say this, the ice cream took it a step further in the pursuit of gastronomic happiness. He went to Guernsey, milked a cow, and using liquid nitrogen, made ice cream (straight from cow to ice cream) in under 4 minutes. "I never leave home without it. Not picnics, not barbeques, not holidays." says he of his liquid nitro kit. I'd say, if I weren't Heston blooming Blumenthal, I may get stopped by customs for carrying dangerous, potentially pressurized materials to my next Grecian holiday.

    That said though, the ice cream made fresh from cow squeezed did look gorgeously delicious. He'd taken a swipe with a finger off the whisk and there was 0.38 seconds there where I contemplated the possibility of licking the television.
  3. I made a gorgeous dinner and it didn't take any effort at all. I'm going to do more of this in future. The discovery of returned time while dinner is effortlessly baking in the oven is bliss, truly bliss.

    So this is life. It starts with a struggle, there is the fall of the proud, and the rise of the humble, good triumphes over evil, there's some decadence involves, and finally, the laurels of success.

    The parables of life, summarized in the kitchen.

Small victories, eh? It was an enormous achievement for me (Pope-tongue-in-cheek) to have conquered my oven, battled my fears and now be able to stare confidently at the box of gold that looms before me.

Victories, however small, are victories anyway. In my present time and space, I'd take whatever I can get.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Organizing travel brochures

So a whole stack of travel brochures to assorted places in the world that one tends to collect when going on tour surfaced today. And on a whim, I've found the best way to organize them.

Requires:
One A4 size executive multi pocket folder. The kind that basically has many pockets, tab tags at the top and look like an A4 sized accordion.

Dump brochures in there by city, sorted alphabetically or by region... whatever way you prefer.

Uncountable Nouns

So just out of curiosity, I got the question of what the plural of "luggage" was, luggage? Luggages?

So a bit of trawling around the Net, and a list of uncountable nouns:

accommodation /advice / baggage/ bread / equipment / furniture / garbage / information / knowledge / luggage / money / news / pasta / progress / research / travel / work

The plural of luggage is... luggage.

And incidentally to add to the list after a debate in the office between Koreans, Singaporeans and Australians, fish is uncountable too.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

The yummiest carbonated non-soft drink of summer

I think I've just discovered the yummiest carbonated non-soft drink for summer. Recently I've been into a sparkling water phase (I think it's summer) and been concocting all sorts of sparkling water drinks I can think of.

Elderflower and Apple Teaser

Ingredients:
Elderflower cordial
Apple juice concentrate/cordial
Sparkling water

Pour elderflower cordial to 1/4 glass. Top another 1/4 glass with apple cordial or concentrate. Fill up the rest with sparkling water.

It's delish!!

Friday, July 27, 2007

Turtle Karmasutra

You find strange things on random techy blog sites these days:

http://www.lostgarden.com/turtle_main.htm

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot!

How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.
- Alexander Pope



So I finally managed to catch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on the telly. I was given a really good review of the movie, and I think, although surreal, the film did hit me, like a Darren Aronofsky's movie (much less dark, however).

I pride myself as someone who values memories. I used to tell myself, almost as a personal mantra that we live our lives in the pursuit of happy memories. That happiness is only as the memory is fleeting, we try to hold on to it like gold dust.

It's quite apt that this movie's changed that impression quite a bit.

I realise now that I will forget more than I will remember, that I will have impressions more than I will have recollections. Perhaps with that in mind, it is more important to have a pure heart than a spotless mind, for then at least, we get to make up our own minds.

It's interesting that what I got out of the movie was a strong theme of personal authenticity and self-determination. And ironic also that in that self-determination came a strange theme of fate, of "liking someone and not knowing why, just because". Almost as if our preferences came through more strongly than our choices or past choices, and that almost inevitably, we end up falling for the same person, for the same type of person, we look for things that remind us of that one true love we almost seemed to have used to know.

I wonder if that's really true.

---

incidentally, i did want to mention that i do recognize that alex pope said "how happy is the blameless Vestal's lot" as a sardonic question disguised as an exclamation. to be blameless is to also be empty, meaningless and blank, without the weight of choice and consequence. the liberty of the lack of responsibility is naturally also the restraint of having "each wish resign'd". if we want only what we're given - is that happiness?

Damien Rice presenting "9" on KCRW

New post, and be warned this is a very large video file, although absolutely worth it for the sheer pleasure of watching Damien play the piano. This is him presenting (ie. playing live) the songs on the album "9". First few minutes on "9 Crimes" is quietly thrilling.

9

I'm back into a Damien Rice phase, and I never realised how much I love the quiet angst of "9 Crimes". It is the piano, honestly, that gets me. It's that repetitive, quiet, simple (I could so play this!) chord that echoes throughout the entire song. Oh, and Lisa Hannigan's voice. (Aarrgh that she does not have a band or a professional album of her own. She has a uniquely Portisheadish voice.)

Leave me out in the waste
This is not what I do
It's the wrong kind of place
To be thinking of you
It's the wrong time
For somebody new
It's a small crime
And I've got no excuse...

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Summer Rains

Well, nothing to worry about, but I just thought I'd document for the sake of amusement that I've received my first flood warning notification in the mail this afternoon upon getting home. Looks like they're really serious about my place flooding up in the wee hours of tomorrow morning, with the possibility of closure along my road.

I have been "advised (to) make reasonable provision for personal needs as your movements could be restricted" by the Reading Borough Council. I take it that this means forwarding your phone to work from home, making sure you have enough to eat and stocking up from the Tesco's next door before they close. All this I have done.

Jokes of building arks and learning to swim have been flooding (no pun intended) my office social mailbox already, thanks to the idea that people are getting hesistant to come to work since my office is technically (a bit far out... but technically) in a flood risk area. It's more like looking for an excuse not to come to work, if you ask me, but hey, I'm all for it!

In Reading and Caversham, high water levels are expected to be reached at
about 0700 BST.

Reading Borough Council said river levels are unlikely to rise more
than 12ins (0.3m), and the Kennet, Lambourn and Loddon are not expected to
flood.

Mr Abbott added: "There could be flooding of some properties. Levels in
Reading, however, are not expected to be anything like we have had in
Oxfordshire."


Considering that my apartment building has a lovely river view of the Thames, it may flood up to my ground floor. (Boy, would I love to see that happen.) That is, if the water manages to somehow rise high enough from the small Thames tributary stream that is honorarily part of the river, cross an old bowling green, cycle lawn and football field before reaching the front steps of my backyard. (Not to worry, folks at home, I live on the 2nd floor - 3rd floor in Singapore terms).

I'm rather looking with envy at the ducks and swans roaming happily along the river banks and wishing that I had webbed feet. They are in the meantime merrily being traffic obstacles in the way of every car, bicycle and pedestrian haplessly trying to stay dry and look like they had just discovered duck heaven.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

The Perfect Summer Drink (Non-Alcoholic)

While browsing the BBC's Good Food Magazine, I've found what is probably the most perfect summer drink, and immediately available from the ingredients in my kitchen (how amazing is that?!)

Apple, Mint and Elderflower Spritzer

Ingredients:
1/4 glass cloudy apple juice
2 dashes elderflower cordial
sparkling water
sprig of mint (plucked from what remains of my mint plant - yes, i got one! perfect summer plant!)

Method:
In a glass, pour 1/4 cloudy apple juice. Throw in mint sprig, and top with 2 dashes of elderflower cordial to half glass. Top remainder of the glass with sparkling water.

The result is a fantastically refreshing, fragrant drink. Try it!

Friday, July 20, 2007

Dryer Sheets as limescale remover

Apparently, many people know about this already, but I've just found out and I'm amazed! I've no clue how this works, but it does!

Wetting a tumble dryer sheet and then using it to wipe limescale and soap scum encrusted stuff dissolves the limescale on them, leaving them good as new.

It's quite brilliant actually. One thing though, for severely hard limescale stains, it probably makes more sense to leave the dryer sheet on to soak for a while, then rinse off and dry. They don't work so good with just one wipe. Wonder if thick fabric softener liquid would have the same effect, surely they're made of the same things as dryer sheets?
mijn beschermerengel, i finally find myself going to amsterdam for a day. i didn't realise this, and i don't think it hit me even though my business trip was confirmed until, well. there's a guy working in germany who is originally dutch (well, he still is, he just lives in munich) who's on point to take everyone out for dinner.

it'll be such a new place. i keep finding myself wanting to keep going, it's a short flight, but i never make it.

maybe one day i'll pick up dutch.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

As I Like It


Hot Tea
Originally uploaded by metaphoric

TEA

I like pouring your tea, lifting
the heavy pot, and tipping it up,
so the fragrant liquid streams in your china cup.

Or when you’re away, or at work,
I like to think of your cupped hands as you sip,
as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your lips.

I like the questions – sugar? – milk? –
and the answers I don’t know by heart, yet,
for I see your soul in your eyes, and I forget.

Jasmine, Gunpowder, Assam, Earl Grey, Ceylon,
I love tea’s names. Which tea would you like? I say
but it’s any tea for you, please, any time of day,

as the women harvest the slopes
for the sweetest leaves, on Mount Wu-Yi,
and I am your lover, smitten, straining your tea.
Carol Ann Duffy


Love exists in the simplest rituals. In teas and coffees, toothpastes and toothbrushes. In the gentle stretch of arms at dawn, a yawn, a sigh.

The poem is beautiful in its simplicity, and I love the placid, nearly childish rhymes that emphasize its simplicity. It's the sort of poem that brings a gentle smile to one's face, the kind that is scribbled on a post-it pad stuck to the refrigerator door. That's the kind of life I want to lead.

The simple life. A life more ordinary and less travelled. The kind that involves reading poetry into the middle of the night, scribbling what comes to mind on a fragment of a post-it pad, and sticking it to the fridge door where you take the milk for your tea the next morning. The kind that integrates art to the shopping list. It's a gentle type of love, at times mellow like lightly brewed white tea, and at others passionate and smoky like an infusion of Russian Caravan.

Note to Self: Poetry + Blog + Pictures = A Very Good Idea

The Passion on film

Jeanette Winterson's The Passion (one of my favourite) is coming to film, says she. And Gwyneth Paltrow and Juliet Binoche.

Please please please let Villanelle be played by Juliet Binoche.

I can almost see the film happening already, and I can actually see both Gwyneth Paltrow and Juliet Binoche in it, so I'm looking forward to applauding some exceptional artistic vision.

Akan datang - stay posted.

Prefacing a diary

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
W.B. Yeats


Since I'm in a poetry phase recently, and in a bored and listless state of mind, I do what I love doing best - think up gifts, not to anyone in particular.

This idea came to mind - a diary. One that is filled, with pictures, texts, blog posts... whatever, tracing the life and times of a particular loved one. And this Yeats poem will preface the book.

Garbage Disposal Cleaning

Few people have garbage disposal units in Singapore, but I honestly promise you, once you've had one, it's incredibly difficult to do without one.

Here's a hack I found for cleaning it.

When going about your regular kitchen cleaning, you don't want to overlook your garbage disposal. Especially if food is scraped into the disposal when regularly washing the dishes. To clean grease and leftover food from your disposal and sharpen the blades at the same time, sprinkle liberally with baking soda and pour white vinegar over until it bubbles. Let set ten minutes. Rinse with hot water. Put two or three ice cubes in the disposal and grind. Rinse again with hot water. Now your disposal is clean and odor free.

Monday, July 16, 2007

When your dreams come true without you knowing it

"joy in desire more than desire of joy
hath ever been my passion; mute from far
to love an unknown woman like a star;
to build in dreams no waking could destroy
some island-palace far from life's annoy;
by strength of spirit to force the silver bar
of twilight till the dawn-gates stood ajar,
and gaze on Paradise, a dazzled boy;
to look forth o'er the ocean's grey-lit foam
in the dim morning; and in starry night
upon the myriad-mustered worlds above;
to emulate the unequalled, Greece and Rome,
heroes and deeds, the heads of faith and fight;
to adore thee whom i may scarcely love."
v., love sonnets, john barlas

I think, though this might be a figment purely of my own imagining, that I had actually sat near (not exactly next to) JW on a train to London and had thought she'd looked familiar, nearly almost like JW herself, but bit my tongue asking.

Not that there would be any way of verification at this point, mind. What fools we are, when the object of our childhood dreams and foolish desires lie, hidden, so close yet so far.

I'm of course melodramatizing this. I am chuckling to myself in amusement yesterday when I came across this recently taken photograph of her and realized that it may have well been indeed, with a high degree of probability, my favourite writer herself.

Well, in consolation, at least I now know she frequents Spitalfields and am nearer to her in Reading than I would ever be in Singapore. All the better to chance a glimpse and an autograph.

My life's work is nearly complete:
  • Neil Gaiman for the Sandman series of graphic novels
  • Tori Amos to sign a copy of Choirgirl
  • Jeanette Winterson to sign a copy of Written on the Body or Sexing the Cherry
  • Gary Oldman in a music store, to sign a copy of the soundtrack to The Fifth Element in silver. (don't ask)

Polish Poets

Jeanette W (my one true love of poets and writers if there could ever be any) showed me this on her website. She's recently been into Polish writers and culture, and I can see why.

Czeslaw Milosz
Collected Poems 1931-2001

Love means to learn to look at yourself
The way one looks at distant things
For you are only one thing among many.
And whoever sees that way heals his heart,
Without knowing it, from various ills -
A bird and a tree say to him: Friend.
Then he wants to use himself and things
So that they stand in the glow of ripeness.
It doesn't matter whether he knows what he serves:
Who serves best doesn't always understand.

The Season for Cherries


Cherries in Summer
Originally uploaded by metaphoric.
At this time of the year, cherries can honestly be the only fruit.

This photo is the only proof left of how succulent these fruits are, since I have eaten the rest.

Whatever the photographs in magazines tell you, all those Marks and Spencer ads (oh, you don't get them outside of England) of how ripe, juicy and tantalizing British cherries are as a summer fruit... they are all true.

These ripe-to-perfection pitted fruits yield soft and sweet after your teeth crush through the first bite of delicate, glossy velvet skin. Even sinking your teeth halfway through the fruit to grit upon the definite pit seems worthwhile.

I'd recently washed and completely enjoyed a bunch, savouring them like rare grapes. While I was at it, I'd decided to take a picture, and it's up to you to believe me when I say that this photo has not been edited and was taken at 8pm in the evening.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

The "customary" birthday blog post

Oh, and a poem as a special surprise.

On and around the time of my birthday this year, I took a walk around Chinatown and other places. The theme of this year seemed to be "Reminiscence", and I'd had a nice spa massage (courtesy of Citibank and other faces), had a booking at the Yamaha studio where I'd had an hour of piano playing (or attempts at piano playing) to myself, a fabulous dinner with family and a planned day of times (not dates), wandering, reminiscing, getting back in touch with myself.

This is important. Partly because who you are is defined in parts by who you have been, which defines also who you will become. There is a train of thought that one can never truly know who you are until you look back, revere, and finally accept who you have been, that the mirror only shows you images of the past, light reflected on glass into your eyes split seconds after you have become who you are being.

This is also important because as I move in the semi-nomadic life that I lead, travelling and living from places to places, cities to cities, it is easy to lose track of where I have come from, and lose memories of the place where I was born, and gain new, artificial, reminiscent memories of the place I grew up in. So I treked back memory lane, so to speak.

It was quite an adventure.

I'd discovered a poet, whose father was a great Singaporean photographer, once awarded the Photographer of the Century by the Photographic Society in New York. This is apparently great, a century is a long time, and Andrew Yip now spends his time raising awareness of his father's work - antique photographs of Singapore. One photo in particular struck me, a piece called "Singapore River", which shows the mouth of the Singapore river circa 1900's (I think), still chock a block with bum boats and trading houses. The photograph leads the eye along the line of shophouses at Boat Quay, which still remains today, obviously in a different form. The photo must have been taken from a building whose vantage point is lost today, somewhere near the top of where the Merlion now stands I gauge.

Anyway, I looked at it again today, and a poem came to mind. I suppose it captured what I had noticed of the picture when I saw it, from the time I'd set my eyes on it to the experience of having bought the print. [I shall scan a copy and post it on this post for curiosity.]

On 'Singapore River'

The boats are gone now
Carried away in tides of cliche
Policy sifted the river, its waters swelling now
Not with trade but pride, a tourist lure
In twinkling lights along the quay.

The boat house at the corner stands still
A colonial restaurant today,
A mockery of days
Gone by, almost forgotten, except
For this single, astute eye.

"This one very popular, nearly
All of Australia has a copy somewhere."
In that moment then, you reminded me
Of torrential rain, euphemistic showers
In distant faces at distant hours.

Fashionable Guinea Pig Housing at your doorstep

Kinda thought enuwy would like this one should she end up getting guinea pigs.

Omlet.co.uk sells the eglu for chickens, guinea pigs and rabbits (in different sizes of course!) which comes in trendy colours, are made of non-absorbent plastic, and are delivered straight to your doorstep and, in the case of the chicken eglu at least, set up in your backyard for you with a 28 day money back guarantee!

Sure takes the stress out of having multiple organic furries running around the house while in the city. Delivery to most places in the UK, and comes with an enclosed, fox safe run if you had a garden too.

Duct Tape Wallet

Or how to convert an old and used, torn up and dirty wallets into new and fancy ones using just multi coloured duct tape.

(Now tell me where to buy lime green and fuscia pink duct tape!)

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Edible "Paper" Cranes

While surfing for the right way to fold a wonton dumpling (yes, Googling can teach you everything you need to know) - I came across this website by accident.

Apparently, Evil Mad Scientist Laboratories have taken folding your food to a new level of edible origami. It's amazingly fascinating.
Now I've never been particularly good at origami, nor at frying wontons, but this reminded me of a particularly fun Chinese New Year's dinner where we were all at enuwy's house trying to outdo each other in making creative versions of the deep fried chinese money bags.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Neuticles - replacing your dog's neutered err... testicles

This is why I have a female dog. And also why I'm happy to neuter her without guilt.

You can now replace your neutered pet's testicles, "allowing your pet to retain his natural look, self esteem and aids in the trauma associated with neutering".

What is the world coming to?

Friday, June 22, 2007

Private Road

One of the best written songs I've heard. It's so clever! Listen to this song on a lazy, white bright Saturday afternoon. Sip a glass of chilled, iced lemon tea with twinkling cubes of ice. Relax in a cold, cold room on a leather sofa.

Serve chilled.

Private Road
My heart for now is a private road
No thoroughfare, no heavy load
No slow traffic, no graphic details,
Cold or collisions
No more stories to make me ache

I'll always love you, Venus
Still you are mine
Why'd you have to take so much time
In calling me
Just want to be easy like
Sunday morning

Snow falls in silence and covers the green
Still you can see where the birds have been
Hungry but alive and free, waiting
Waiting

The Glory of the 80's

It's scary how it probably reveals your age when you think about the songs that defined your angst years, the teenage years. Bands like Heart, Erasure, The Pet Shop Boys (though that was a mainstay), U2 (another evolution), Chris Isaak.

I grew up with A Little Respect (Erasure), Somebody (Depeche Mode) and These Dreams (Heart). But ended up living with a New Kids on the Block generation that preferred Go West (Pet Shop Boys), Dirty Dancing (various - I've had the time of my life...) and Hero (Mariah Carey).

Where did the world go to?

Anyway, just a little treat for the glory of the 80's. I took a taxi from LA to Venus in 1985.

These Dreams

What is probably my favourite song (personal reasons) of all time - I just gotta have it on my blog somewhere. Mental note to self to buy a Best of Heart album, probably "These Dreams - Heart's Greatest Hits" since I realised that there are many songs I love from the band.

Spare a little candle
Save some light for me
Figures up ahead
Moving in the trees
White skin, in linen
Perfume on my wrist
And the full moon that hangs over
These dreams in the mist

Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this
But all I remember
Are the dreams in the mist

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night, I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake, the further I'm away

Is it cloak 'n dagger
Could it be Spring or Fall
I walk without a cut,
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no volume
Falling from my lips

There's something out there, I can't resist
I need to hide away from the pain
There's something out there, I can't resist

The sweetest song is silence
That I've ever heard
Funny how your feet in dreams
Never touch the earth
In a wood full of princes
Freedom is a kiss
But the prince hides his face
From dreams in the mist

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Jura - the Federer break of choice

In an office social posting on espresso machines... The website hosts a fabulous picture of Federer endorsing an espresso machine. Obviously, I didn't get to the coffee in the end.

http://www.jura.com/

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Damien Rice's first album =

O, as in "oh", as in not "zero".

So confirmed by doing an Amazon search for Damien Rice + zero; no search results found; then searching Damien Rice + oh and found the albums.

Haha.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Whole Foods Market in Kensington

Surprisingly, this one - the flagship Whole Foods store in UK is actually really accessible. One of those places to check out when next in London. I can now buy my Allegro coffee from UK!

[cid:image001.png@01C7B1B5.70B7D040]

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Silver Polish Method for real?

I just had to keep this tip:

Put a sheet of aluminum foil into a plastic or glass bowl. Sprinkle the foil with salt and baking soda and fill the bowl with warm water. Soak your silver in the bowl and tarnish migrates to the foil. Dry and buff.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Where is my album "O"?

Stumbled across "The Blower's Daughter" on tv today while watching a drama series (case in point that I'm addicted to all drama series that have good music, but will leave that to another blog) and within the first chords of the song, "And so it is...", the one single underlying thought in my head was, "I have that song... what album is it in my iPod?" I'd managed to isolate it down to Damien Rice (classic voice you gotta love the man for his voice, not his looks), but somehow, my iPod houses only "9" and the song came from "O".

So now. That is one of my favourite albums of all time. And I just can't find it. Together with the other albums that I've lost - Tori Amos's From the Choirgirl Hotel (my favourite Tori album of all time also) and Tori Amos's To Venus and Back Disc 1 (following on with a close second of favourite Tori albums and strangely enough I have Disc 2, the one I don't like). It's missing. Together with "O".

I definitely own them. Originals too (in case you wonder), because they are my all time favourite albums and I won't compromise having anything but the originals.

But they are missing. As in they are nowhere to be found in all my collection of CDs that have survived my fifth house move now. Well, considering their vanished nature, I'm not about to say they have survived now - but instinct tells me I must have taken all my favourite albums and put them in a CD case. And it is that very precious CD case that comprised all the music I wouldn't want to live without if there were no CDs left on earth that is now missing.

Missing.

The horrid truth is that I couldn't find them since I've moved here. Which makes me suspect that I may not have moved with them in the first place. The thought that the CD case of music could have been left at some relocation movers warehouse to be collecting dust for all eternity while I'm sitting here having "Can't take my eyes off of you..." playing repeat in my head is quite horrifying.

Imagine for a moment my distress.

And what did I do? To tide my sorry heart over, I went to YouTube and promptly looked for the stupid song that prompted this all.

It's right here.



So this is love/Just when I've lost my CD/And I'm lost and sorry.../Now, at this time/And so it is/I've lost that one thing.../I've cared for.../More than your voice./Can't take my eyes off.../Shouldn't take my eyes off...

Should have put it together with the passport and the intricate little obsessions we carry around with us every day.

Tokens, trinkets, sentimentalities.

The song reminds me of so much that I cannot find. So it's not really about The Blower's Daughter really, that is now occupying my fast flowing, random, path of least resistance stream of consciousness.

Ever played a song and all that came to mind were old photographs, faded memories, snatches of moments where you stole a glance at someone you shouldn't have? That's "The Blower's Daughter".

It's what you think of when you're staring into a vastness of ocean that looks like seemingly nothing.

It's what you say when she comes up to you and asks, "What are you thinking?" And you smile and say, "Nothing, sweetheart." She turns away and you hum a song, "And so it is..."

How do we live our lives in our sleeping, soft, silent, subtle, dreaming moments, when they shatter as we wake? How do we explain our lives to the people that fill it in our waking moments, when they don't touch us where we sleep?

And so it is, the colder water, the blower's daughter, the pupil in denial. I'll be waiting at that ocean's edge, hair in the wind, salt water in my eyes.

Bill Gates's Speech at Harvard University

Here is a man with a deep enough sense of noblesse oblige. With a mother that teaches good values: "From those to whom much is given, much is expected." I've always thought that one of the things that Bill Gates did right, aside from the Foundation, was to instil a deep sense of need to change the world. If there's one thing the Internet can do, it is that it makes the grassroots the community. It puts the power to act on anything that you like into the masses of people who see, hear and feel things that they are told every day. But if they are not told, they will and can do nothing.

I'm not sure if this is real (apparently so, because it was published by the Harvard Times), but it's an inspiring speech so I'm sharing this one.

President Bok, former President Rudenstine, incoming President Faust, members of
the Harvard Corporation and the Board of Overseers, members of the faculty,
parents, and especially, the graduates:

I've been waiting more than 30 years to say this: "Dad, I always told you I'd come back and get my degree."

I want to thank Harvard for this timely honor. I'll be changing my job next year ... and it will be nice to finally have a college degree on my resume.

I applaud the graduates today for taking a much more direct route to your degrees. For my part, I'm just happy that the Crimson has called me "Harvard's most successful dropout." I guess that makes me valedictorian of my own special class ... I did the best of everyone who failed.

But I also want to be recognized as the guy who got Steve Ballmer to drop out of business school. I'm a bad influence. That's why I was invited to speak at your graduation. If I had spoken at your orientation, fewer of you might be here today.

Harvard was just a phenomenal experience for me. Academic life was fascinating. I used to sit in on lots of classes I hadn't even signed up for. And dorm life was terrific. I lived up at Radcliffe, in Currier House. There were always lots of people in my dorm room late at night discussing things, because everyone knew I didn't worry about getting up in the morning. That's how I came to be the leader of the anti-social group. We clung to each other as a way of validating our rejection of all those
social people.

Radcliffe was a great place to live. There were more women up there, and most of the guys were science-math types. That combination offered me the best odds, if you know what I mean. This is where I learned the sad lesson that improving your odds doesn't guarantee success.

One of my biggest memories of Harvard came in January 1975, when I made a call from Currier House to a company in Albuquerque that had begun making the world's first personal computers. I offered to sell them software. I worried that they would realize I was just a student in a dorm and hang up on me. Instead they said: "We're not quite ready, come see us in a month," which was a good thing, because we hadn't written the software yet. From that moment, I worked day and night on this little extra credit project that marked the end of my college education and the beginning of a remarkable journey with Microsoft.

What I remember above all about Harvard was being in the midst of so much energy and intelligence. It could be exhilarating, intimidating, sometimes even discouraging, but always challenging. It was an amazing privilege - and though I left early, I was
transformed by my years at Harvard, the friendships I made, and the ideas I worked on.

But taking a serious look back ... I do have one big regret.

I left Harvard with no real awareness of the awful inequities in the world - the appalling disparities of health, and wealth, and opportunity that condemn millions of people to lives of despair. I learned a lot here at Harvard about new ideas in economics and politics. I got great exposure to the advances being made in the sciences. But humanity's greatest advances are not in its discoveries - but in how those discoveries are applied to reduce inequity. Whether through democracy, strong public education, quality health care, or broad economic opportunity - reducing inequity is the highest human achievement.

I left campus knowing little about the millions of young people cheated out of educational opportunities here in this country. And I knew nothing about the millions of people living in unspeakable poverty and disease in developing countries. It took me decades to find out.

You graduates came to Harvard at a different time. You know more about the world's inequities than the classes that came before. In your years here, I hope you've had a chance to think about how - in this age of accelerating technology - we can finally take on these inequities, and we can solve them.

Imagine, just for the sake of discussion, that you had a few hours a week and a few dollars a month to donate to a cause - and you wanted to spend that time and money where it would have the greatest impact in saving and improving lives. Where would you spend it?

For Melinda and for me, the challenge is the same: how can we do the most good for the greatest number with the resources we have. During our discussions on this question, Melinda and I read an article about the millions of children who were dying every year in poor countries from diseases that we had long ago made harmless in this country. Measles, malaria, pneumonia, hepatitis B, yellow fever. One disease I had never even heard of, rotavirus, was killing half a million kids each year - none of them in the United States. We were shocked. We had just assumed that if millions of children were dying and they could be saved, the world would make it a priority to discover and deliver the medicines to save them. But it did not. For under a dollar, there were interventions that could save lives that just weren't being delivered.
If you believe that every life has equal value, it's revolting to learn that some lives
are seen as worth saving and others are not. We said to ourselves: "This can't be true. But if it is true, it deserves to be the priority of our giving." So we began our work in the same way anyone here would begin it. We asked: "How could the world let these children die?"

The answer is simple, and harsh. The market did not reward saving the lives of these children, and governments did not subsidize it. So the children died because their mothers and their fathers had no power in the market and no voice in the system.

But you and I have both. We can make market forces work better for the poor if we can develop a more creative capitalism - if we can stretch the reach of market forces so that more people can make a profit, or at least make a living, serving people who are suffering from the worst inequities. We also can press governments around the
world to spend taxpayer money in ways that better reflect the values of the people who pay the taxes.

If we can find approaches that meet the needs of the poor in ways that generate profits for business and votes for politicians, we will have found a sustainable way to reduce inequity in the world. This task is open-ended. It can never be finished. But a conscious effort to answer this challenge will change the world.

I am optimistic that we can do this, but I talk to skeptics who claim there is no hope. They say: "Inequity has been with us since the beginning, and will be with us till the end - because people just ... don't ... care." I completely disagree.

I believe we have more caring than we know what to do with. All of us here in this Yard, at one time or another, have seen human tragedies that broke our hearts, and yet we did nothing - not because we didn't care, but because we didn't know what to do. If we had known how to help, we would have acted.

The barrier to change is not too little caring; it is too much complexity. To turn caring into action, we need to see a problem, see a solution, and see the impact. But omplexity blocks all three steps.

Even with the advent of the Internet and 24-hour news, it is still a complex enterprise to get people to truly see the problems. When an airplane crashes, officials immediately call a press conference. They promise to investigate, determine the cause, and prevent similar crashes in the future.

But if the officials were brutally honest, they would say: "Of all the people in the world who died today from preventable causes, one half of one percent of them were on this plane. We're determined to do everything possible to solve the problem that took the lives of the one half of one percent."

The bigger problem is not the plane crash, but the millions of preventable deaths. We don't read much about these deaths. The media covers what's new - and millions of people dying is nothing new. So it stays in the background, where it's easier to ignore. But even when we do see it or read about it, it's difficult to keep our eyes on the problem. It's hard to look at suffering if the situation is so complex that we don't know how to help. And so we look away.

If we can really see a problem, which is the first step, we come to the second step: cutting through the complexity to find a solution. Finding solutions is essential if we want to make the most of our caring. If we have clear and proven answers anytime an organization or individual asks "How can I help?," then we can get action - and we can make sure that none of the caring in the world is wasted. But complexity makes it hard to mark a path of action for everyone who cares - and that makes it hard for their caring to matter.

Cutting through complexity to find a solution runs through four predictable stages: determine a goal, find the highest-leverage approach, discover the ideal technology for that approach, and in the meantime, make the smartest application of the technology that you already have - whether it's something sophisticated, like a drug, or something simpler, like a bednet.

The AIDS epidemic offers an example. The broad goal, of course, is to end the disease. The highest-leverage approach is prevention. The ideal technology would be a vaccine that gives lifetime immunity with a single dose. So governments, drug companies, and foundations fund vaccine research. But their work is likely to take more than a decade, so in the meantime, we have to work with what we have in hand - and the best prevention approach we have now is getting people to avoid risky behavior.

Pursuing that goal starts the four-step cycle again. This is the pattern. The crucial thing is to never stop thinking and working - and never do what we did with malaria and tuberculosis in the 20th century - which is to surrender to complexity and quit.
The final step - after seeing the problem and finding an approach - is to measure the
impact of your work and share your successes and failures so that others learn from your efforts.

You have to have the statistics, of course. You have to be able to show that a program is vaccinating millions more children. You have to be able to show a decline in the number of children dying from these diseases. This is essential not just to improve the program, but also to help draw more investment from business and government. But if you want to inspire people to participate, you have to show more than numbers; you have to convey the human impact of the work - so people can feel what saving a life means to the families affected.

I remember going to Davos some years back and sitting on a global health panel that was discussing ways to save millions of lives. Millions! Think of the thrill of saving just one person's life - then multiply that by millions. ... Yet this was the most boring panel I've ever been on - ever. So boring even I couldn't bear it.

What made that experience especially striking was that I had just come from an event where we were introducing version 13 of some piece of software, and we had people jumping and shouting with excitement. I love getting people excited about software - but why can't we generate even more excitement for saving lives?

You can't get people excited unless you can help them see and feel the impact. And how you do that - is a complex question.

Still, I'm optimistic. Yes, inequity has been with us forever, but the new tools we have to cut through complexity have not been with us forever. They are new - they can help us make the most of our caring - and that's why the future can be different from the past. The defining and ongoing innovations of this age - biotechnology, the computer, the Internet - give us a chance we've never had before to end extreme poverty and end death from preventable disease.

Sixty years ago, George Marshall came to this commencement and announced a plan to assist the nations of post-war Europe. He said: "I think one difficulty is that the problem is one of such enormous complexity that the very mass of facts presented to the public by press and radio make it exceedingly difficult for the man in the street to reach a clear appraisement of the situation. It is virtually impossible at this distance to grasp at all the real significance of the situation."

Thirty years after Marshall made his address, as my class graduated without me, technology was emerging that would make the world smaller, more open, more visible, less distant. The emergence of low-cost personal computers gave rise to a powerful network that has transformed opportunities for learning and communicating.

The magical thing about this network is not just that it collapses distance and makes everyone your neighbor. It also dramatically increases the number of brilliant minds we can have working together on the same problem - and that scales up the rate of innovation to a staggering degree. At the same time, for every person in the world who has access to this technology, five people don't. That means many creative minds are left out of this discussion -- smart people with practical intelligence and
relevant experience who don't have the technology to hone their talents or
contribute their ideas to the world.

We need as many people as possible to have access to this technology, because these advances are triggering a revolution in what human beings can do for one another. They are making it possible not just for national governments, but for universities, corporations, smaller organizations, and even individuals to see problems, see approaches, and measure the impact of their efforts to address the hunger, poverty, and desperation George Marshall spoke of 60 years ago.

Members of the Harvard Family: Here in the Yard is one of the great collections of intellectual talent in the world.

What for?

There is no question that the faculty, the alumni, the students, and the benefactors of Harvard have used their power to improve the lives of people here and around the world. But can we do more? Can Harvard dedicate its intellect to improving the lives of people who will never even hear its name?

Let me make a request of the deans and the professors - the intellectual leaders here at Harvard: As you hire new faculty, award tenure, review curriculum, and determine degree requirements, please ask yourselves: Should our best minds be dedicated to solving our biggest problems?

Should Harvard encourage its faculty to take on the world's worst inequities? Should Harvard students learn about the depth of global poverty ... the prevalence of world hunger ... the scarcity of clean water ...the girls kept out of school ... the children who die from diseases we can cure? Should the world's most privileged people learn about the lives of the world's least privileged?

These are not rhetorical questions - you will answer with your policies.

My mother, who was filled with pride the day I was admitted here - never stopped pressing me to do more for others. A few days before my wedding, she hosted a bridal event, at which she read aloud a letter about marriage that she had written to Melinda. My mother was very ill with cancer at the time, but she saw one more opportunity to deliver her message, and at the close of the letter she said: "From those to whom much is given, much is expected."

When you consider what those of us here in this Yard have been given - in talent, privilege, and opportunity - there is almost no limit to what the world has a right to expect from us.

In line with the promise of this age, I want to exhort each of the graduates here to take on an issue - a complex problem, a deep inequity, and become a specialist on it. If you make it the focus of your career, that would be phenomenal. But you don't have to do that to make an impact. For a few hours every week, you can use the growing power of the Internet to get informed, find others with the same interests, see the barriers, and find ways to cut through them.

Don't let complexity stop you. Be activists. Take on the big inequities. It will be one of the great experiences of your lives.

You graduates are coming of age in an amazing time. As you leave Harvard, you have technology that members of my class never had. You have awareness of global inequity, which we did not have. And with that awareness, you likely also have an informed conscience that will torment you if you abandon these people whose lives you could change with very little effort. You have more than we had; you must start sooner, and carry on longer.

Knowing what you know, how could you not?

And I hope you will come back here to Harvard 30 years from now and reflect on what you have done with your talent and your energy. I hope you will judge yourselves not on your professional accomplishments alone, but also on how well you have addressed the world's deepest inequities ... on how well you treated people a world away who have nothing in common with you but their humanity.

Good luck.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Organic Fresh Foods at your doorstep

Well, I'm not talking about the Tesco's organic range at my doorstep. Curiosity got the better of me, so when I received the 2nd Abel & Cole's brochure in the mailbox, with a recommendation from an Australian colleague of mine living in London who uses them frequently, I decided to check out the website.

The result is surprising. A wide range of fish, meats, dairy, fruits and vegetables - all organic, locally farmed and sourced without air freight - at relatively affordable prices, delivered to your door free of charge and you don't even have to be home when they arrive. Even better, they deliver at my area on Fridays, which is my usual grocery day out anyway, which makes for a very good option in home cooking during the week.

I might switch very soon after coming back from Singapore - simply because the range of food isn't too shabby for now and then cooking. Having a mixed bag also takes the humdrum away from having to choose foods, and allows me to try new foods which I probably wouldn't buy if I were walking around Tesco's by myself. I might try it for the fish, if it's going to be good - since Tesco's isn't.

I love this, actually. Life is too short to eat cheap, run of the mill, probably unhealthy Tesco produced fresh produce. Overcoming the snob value of getting organic food all the time, the bottom line is that for good taste and for good health, getting fresh foods from a specialized grocer like this, even if you pay more, is well worth it's while in the long run.

Did I mention the other day that I was walking in Tesco's and browsing the fruits section when I found mouldy grapes sitting on one of the shelves? I've been getting squeamish about mass produced fresh foods for a while now...

Saturday, June 09, 2007

And the winner is...

Every year around my birthday and Christmas, I identify a birthday present for myself. So the quick pick desire (I waaaaaaaaaannnnntttttt this bad!) item of the year is...

A laptop back pack. And not just any laptop back pack either, one I found on the Apple store specially designed for the MacBook too. For shame!


The LeBag for PowerBook 15” by be.ez


Little Things....


Japanese Lamp
Originally uploaded by metaphoric.
... make me happy.

Like being able to fix up this lamp all by myself.

I had bought it from Thailand a year ago, and never thought to fix it up and use it as a night light, until today when I had 20 minutes to spare.

Somehow the quiet light and dainty floral/pressed leaves pattern make me happy.

Meme: Car Music

I'd always wanted to start this list - a compilation of music that go well with long car rides, road trips... basically songs the DJ should be playing at 60 miles/hour. More additions to follow, but I realized that one of my favourite experiences would be to drive a Saab (potentially possible) to Tori Amos (also possible).
  1. Tori Amos - Sleeps with Butterflies
  2. Tori Amos - Bouncing off Clouds
  3. The Eagles - Love Will Keep Us Alive

Incidentally, a playlist I came up with when I was bored (I play a little game with myself on the train, I go through my playlist and come up with a playlist with a theme) - this one was music with driving/cars/travelling themes (my iPod music list wasn't complete):

  1. Tori Amos - Cars and Guitars
  2. Tori Amos - Taxi Ride
  3. Tracy Chapman - Fast Car
  4. Sheryl Crow - Every Day is a Winding Road
  5. Tori Amos - Big Wheel (surprisingly goes very well after Sheryl Crow)
  6. Tori Amos - Beauty of Speed
  7. Bent - Private Road
  8. Radiohead - Street Spirit (at some point, I insist)
  9. Tori Amos - Roosterspur Bridge
  10. Vienna Teng - Harbor
  11. Snow Patrol - Chasing Cars

More to follow as things strike me - although I thought the car/travel playlist if made into a CD would be a very good congratulations gift to someone who's just got himself a new car or just passed his driving test. (eh, little fish?)

Friday, June 08, 2007

In memory of the previous bike


I know I'm a bit obsessed, but just to put things in perspective, colour and all - you see, it looks so much nicer. Sportier, white, with that nice trimming on the saddle too.
But I'm learning that looks aren't everything.

The Ride

Specialized has bigger wheels, making the ride stable, but harder work. While the Giant could previously go on gear 4 on a straight road, the Specialized cuts a little bit of work at 3, with 4 if you want a workout.

But stable it is. I now can come to a halt at traffic lights while balancing perfectly on the bike. With some Giants you can do that, but I found the frame giving that tinny, hollow feeling, while not exactly being too light either.

The Body

Frame wise, the Specialized had one detail that the Giant kind of messed up on - the Giant had the wires at the bottom of the top bar of the frame, making lifting the bike messy work with wires pressing into your fingers. Like most other bikes, Specialized routes them on the side and top of the bar, so you get a clear lift off.

It's also 0.6kg lighter, overall having a slightly better frame, so while nobody likes to lift bikes off the ground, at least now I can rather easily, despite the Specialized being a 15" frame to the Giant's 14" frame.

It's got comments that it was a big bike for a small girl though, something which is probably true, although the Giant did feel a tad tiny to my frame. I had to push the seat down as far as I can manage while cramming in the lights, reflector and mudguard, but am realizing that vantage point and leverage on the pedals cannot be under-estimated.

The Joy

Oh the joy of the ride. The Specialized has silent well-oiled brakes, unlike the screechy nonsense of the old girl. I am beginning to wonder if the place where I got it next specialized (pun unintended) in only bicycles, unlike the multi-purpose shop where I had to get the previous bike, and hence did a better job of tuning the bike up prior to shipping. Never mind that I had to fit the pedals, turn the handlebars and adjust the seat for myself and didn't get a customized fitting - but Halfords did a half bit job of it anyway and besides fitting the bike up in front of my eyes, didn't do much for the piece.

The brakes started screeching on the Giant since practically Day 1, and the chains rattled when they move. The frame is slightly lighter too, sacrificing balance for flexibility and control. So... you're looking at steering a Mazda instead of a BMW.

And it doesn't cushion rocks and hard places half as well as the Specialized does. Must be the numb preventing saddle.

Diffusion Drama

And because I am bored and missing alcohol...

Cocktails for Two

I'm quite taken by this incredibly cute ad on the telly these days from Schweppes. And thanks to subtitles being on, lyrics can now be found - (in bold are the bits used by the ad)

Cocktails For Two
Music by Arthur Johnston, lyrics by Sam Coslow, 1934

Oh what delight to be given the right
To be carefree and gay once again
No longer slinking, respectfully drinking
Like civilized ladies and men

No longer need we miss
A charming scene like this:

In some secluded rendezvous
That overlooks the avenue
With someone sharing a delightful chat
Of this and that
And cocktails for two

As we enjoy a cigarette
To some exquisite chansonnette
Two hands are sure to slyly meet beneath
A serviette
With cocktails for two

My head may go reeling
But my heart will be obedient
With intoxicating kisses
For the principal ingredient

Most any afternoon at five
We'll be so glad we're both alive
Then maybe fortune will complete her plan
That all began
With cocktails for two

And of course, you can find the ad on YouTube. :-)

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

My new set of wheels

As geographically closer friends would already know, my bicycle was stolen from right under my nose (or apartment building to be more exact) over the weekend. How? I wonder at the audacity of the thief, breaking into a locked (but commonly neglected) bicycle shed) and breaking the bicycle lock to get to my bike.

It was pretty much brand new! (laments) Having been only 2 months old at most, and of the brand that I liked the most - Giant.

I was pretty reluctant to consider other brands, being rather loyal to Giant after having tried it in Melbourne, but Specialized was the other brand which was recommended to me, and partially considered, after having finally decided to go the Giant way.

Guess fate had another thing to say. The lost Giant got replaced by the Specialized Hardrock Sport for Women. The only gripe I had about it was the colour of the frame - a sort of gaudy, electric blue, and the size of the frame (actually the one suited for my height, but my short legs make me chicken and I keep opting for a smaller frame that I should really get). But as for the ride, I can't complain.

In fact, it makes the Giant ride like a Toyota and the Specialized like a BMW bordering on a 4WD (the irony). It's sturdy. Stable. With large wheels (larger than the Giant, larger than the frame almost in proportion), and a silent, smooth braking system and gears that click and shift into place better than the clunky Giant, I'm beginning to think that Giant is simply overrated as being the biggest producer of bikes in the world and therefore showing high value for money for the features on their bikes.

This frame is lighter, despite being larger, and offers better control. Despite the large wheels, turning at slow speeds offer confidence, control and precision, and stability on surfaces is unparallelled. Previously, the Giant Yukon would rattle a little, and the brakes made a skittery, squeaky noise from Day 1. This one glides smoothly and firmly to a halt, and there isn't a hint of a rattle, even on rough surfaces.

The only thing now to get used to is the height. I pushed the wheels way down so my feet pretty much touch the ground and went as chicken as I dared. Although that's the way it is, and comfort wise a requirement, needing to mount a bike instead of simply get on makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Not to mention I've not yet really mastered the elegant way of getting on and off with a skirt on.

But pleased I am. And if this gets stolen yet again, my heart is really going to be broken.

Monday, June 04, 2007

Everything but the kitchen sink

As any fashionista would know these days, being a desperate housewife, or a housewife in any case, desperation optional, is big these days. Nothing says more than luxury after L'Occitane toiletries and Creme de la Mer facial products than clothes care from The Laundress, New York, and washing up liquids in original organic scents like rosemary, thyme and sage. What was used almost exclusively on the face is now also, exclusively for wool, cashmere and the kitchen sink.

So, here's some top tips from The Laundress on how to be fashionably green, since green has now become the new black.
  1. Eliminate toxic chemicals such as bleach, which is bad for the environment and bad for the fibres in your clothes too. Alternative acids which are less harmful include vinegar (icky smelling though), and on a nicer note, citrus fruit juices.
  2. For smaller loads and delicates, hand wash and air dry to save water and energy.
  3. Spot clean instead of wash the entire garment again. Sometimes not every bit of the clothes become dirty. You don't have to wash your items after just one use! (I learnt this myself yesterday) Save water, energy and avoid your favourite outfits going to pot with overwashing.
  4. Avoid dry cleaners and dry cleaning clothes where possible because they use harmful chemicals in the wash process. Certain pieces only need dry-cleaning twice a year. Keep them fresh with clothes fresheners instead - and a cheap and easy alternative is to fill a spray with 7-8 drops of your favourite essential oils, diluted with distilled water. I also like the idea of diluting one of my favourite bottles of body spray (especially by filling bottles that are running out) to maintain a signature scent.
  5. Use paper dryers that are biodegradable, recyclable and have no carcinogenic fibres. Actually, even better, get dryer balls that are reusable hundreds of times.

I've also discovered ironing water, a wonderful European invention. I'm not obsessed, but ironing water in the iron smells great and prevents the iron from limescaling with the hard water that is frequently found here. Keeps your clothes in good shape and your iron too. Don't laugh - I've recently just got myself the organic ironing water in a large 1 litre bottle, for the ironing that I so rarely do.

Friday, June 01, 2007

I ran into a door today

Unbelievable. Sometimes I think I walk around with my eyes closed. I ran into a door today. And it was a door at home. What's more, the door was wide open. As in, the door was completely not in my way. In fact, it couldn't have been any more out of my way if it had tried. It was wide open, there was a door's width for me to pass through and I had to walk into the door.

I don't actually know what happened. I must have closed my eyes and walked, completely awake, about 3-5 feet into the door. Talk about peripheral vision, my straight ahead vision wasn't even working!

Please laugh with me with that sort of laughter slapstick humour generally generates. It'll help me feel better. After all, I've now got a bruise on my head, right above my right eye, and it's swelling. In a line (door's edge)! *laughter again*

Ouch.

P/S: Yes, this does happen to me. Very often. My sense of physical presence must hover somewhere 2 feet above my head most days, at the rate I get myself into accidents.
Trade-off: I'm very good at virtual games, however. I think it's because virtual reality has very little difference to me from actual reality the way my perception goes.

Broken-Up Music #3

And finally, the revelation, the guilt trip, the blame song. There's actually something very liberating in this song, but you only find it in the background vocals and chords.

Over some time, a long long long time ago, I realised the exact emotion that this song conveyed. That sense of freedom, of cathartic relief. It's that emotion that you get from the first breath you draw after crying until you cannot possibly, physically, cry any more. It feels almost like being born again (never mind the fact you're doing pretty much the same thing when you're born), followed by the relief of breathing, simply breathing, crisp, clear air (anywhere you are, at that moment, the air is crisp, I promise).

It's actually the sense of being very very glad to be alive, regardless how horrible things get, despite whatever makes you cry. It's the realization that it is because of suffering (someone else's and later ours) that we're alive in the first place.

Broken-Up Music #3 - Sarah McLachlan - Plenty

I looked into your eyes
They told me plenty
I already knew
You
never felt a thing
So soon forgotten all that you do
In more than words I
Tried to tell you
The more I tried I failed

I would not let myself believe
That you might stray
And I would stand by you
No matter what they’d say,
I would have thought I’d be with you
Until my dying day
Until my dying day

I used to think my life
Was often empty
A lonely space to fill
You hurt me more than
I ever would have imagined
You made my world stand still

And in that stillness
There was a freedom
I never felt before
I would not let myself believe
That you might stray
And I would stand by you
No matter what they’d say,
I would have thought I’d be with you
Until my dying day
Until my dying day

Broken-Up Music #2

This one's always been a classic. There are different types. There are some types that get you eating anything sweet. This song is best served with a generous stirring sugar into unlimited iced tea and a dessert buffet. Bring a willing friend and a listening ear.

Broken Up Music #2 - Tori Amos - Baker Baker

Baker Baker
Baking a cake
Make me a day
Make me whole again
And I wonder
What's in a day
What's in your cake this time?

I guess you heard
He's gone to LA
He says that beihnd my eyes I'm hiding
And he tells me I pushed him away
That my heart's been hard to find

Here, there must be something
Here, there must be something here, here

Baker Baker can you explain
If truly his heart
Was made of icing
And I wonder
How mine could taste
Maybe we could change his mind

I know you're late
For your next parade
You came to make sure
That I'm not running
Well I ran from him
In all kinds of ways
Guess it was his turn this time

Time thought I'd made friends with time
Thought we'd be flying
Maybe not this time

Baker Baker
Baking a cake
Make me a day
Make me whole again
And I wonder
If he's ok
If you see him say hi

Broken-Up Music #1

Don't be sensitive, it's nothing at all, seriously. Recently I've taken a shine to broken up music, with a collector's ear kind of interest. It's one of those things that everybody sings about, even though when you think about it, it's kind of weird to think that the first reaction people would have to emotions like regret, wistfulness, sentimentality, hurt, anger, despair is to sing, but the human voice is an expressive instrument.

I love collecting emotions. And sometimes trite phrases that come up in lyrics ("The heart of a gypsy; the soul of a stone" - Take That) just make me laugh.

Anyway, first part of the broken up music collection: Take That - Like I Never Loved You at All

In celebration of the fade-to-zero emotion that comes in with a break-up. I used to think that the worst thing you can do to someone is to fade-to-zero, so I love it that this is the first song that put it quite so literally. At least I can say Take That has become honest in their lyrics.

Where, where are the stars?
The one that we used to call ours
Can't imagine it now
We used to laugh til we fell down.

The secrets we had
Are now in the past
From something to nothing, tell me.

How did we lose our way?
It's hard to remember
All that we shared
Now we both have separate lives
From lovers to strangers, now alone
There's no one catching my fall
No one to hear my call
It's like I never loved you at all.

Now you're so far away
And I see our star is fading
One too many times
Guess it just got tired of waiting around.

The nights that we thought,
If these walls could talk
From something to nothing, tell me.

So now does he give you love
Is it only me now that's thinking of
What we had and what we were?
Did you ever care?
Baby was I ever there?



Ever passed an ex along the streets, glanced at each other, there was a clear sign of recognition, but all you get back was a blank stare? Bottle up that feeling and put it in a song.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

"Hi, I'm a Mac..." "Yeah, but I'm the coffee table!"



Remember that super cool Minority Report interface that Tom Cruise was playing around with? Microsoft today has announced Surface, a coffee table with a Minority Report interface that is nothing like I've seen in real life to date.

So here's the thing, you control the interface using your fingers, using natural hand gestures and touch, as though your fingers (mostly the right index finger) were a mouse pointer. You can drag, drop, select, tap... pretty much do what you do with a mouse except you don't need one.

At the same time, the coffee table (as I'm going to call it from now on) recognizes actual physical objects that you put on it. Place a phone on it, the table reads and recognizes your phone and highlights it with a circle. It now becomes something you can interact with. Drag pictures to the phone's circle to sync pictures, music... whatever with it.

A tech'y run through of how it works can be found in this 3 page article: http://www.popularmechanics.com/technology/industry/4217348.html

I suppose from an industry perspective, what this means is that if widely accepted into mainstream technology in 3-5 years time, there will be an increased demand for human interface designers and interior designers who can integrate the hardware/software required to make this work into our homes, shops, supermarkets, public transportation systems, restaurants, nearly everything you can think of.

I suppose psychologically, staring down at a table keeping quiet becomes widely socially acceptable and no longer a sign of antisocial, loner at the bar behaviour. It also means that if you are truly alone with a drink at the bar, you can probably have a pseudo-social interaction (internet chat site or... something else) with your table. You can probably also train your dog to start a report, download your news and blog feeds and cook dinner just by putting paws on the table. The possibilities are endless.

At $5,000 - $10,000 a piece, this little baby is one for the house when I can get my hands on it. And no, you can't put your feet up on the coffee table anymore.