Hougang, Sengkang, Yio Chu Kang, Choa Chu Kang, Lim Chu Kang.
Those are the "Kangs" certain people have defined in Singapore. Out of all of them, only Hougang is the least "Sua-kang", the hokkien term for "Mountain river", a reference to a far away place. Far far away. My friends, some of them, have used this term to describe where I lived. When I knew these jokers, I lived in Yishun, already deemed a no-no among the happening types. "It's so far away that the MRT train also take so long to travel from Yio Chu Kang and Khatib.", "It was so long the gap I thought I was lost", and "There were so many trees, I didn't bring my passport." were the sort of remarks made when I announced my address.
Then I moved to Woodlands, as north as north could be on this giant island of ours. (Actually, on the map, Sembawang is more latitudinally north than Woodlands) Anyway, the very name is bad enough. It conjures up images of forest, jungle, animals and wild people roaming about, who hawk VCDs on pavements to lost tourists. In fact, Woodlands is the largest HDB estate in Singapore. All Lego-landed up with apartments to house the landless. The only is up in Singapore, so the HDB estates have had to replace the kampungs and compartmentalise the peasants into blocks of concrete. In the largest of the estates, I lived near Admiralty. I was outcast as the worst heartlander, worthy of treasonous collusion with Malaysians because of my geography. No rides home for you. "Do you know how much patrol it takes to drive up north?" I think I heard once. Being stingy, I usually took the NightRider bus service home. $3.50 got me to bed, as long as I didn't miss my bus stop, which was easy to do after dancing and drinks and being sleepy in a cold bus at 4am.
Now I live in Hougang. Praise the Lord, came the cry from these friends. He has come down to the Earth and closer to the Equator. It used to cost $23 after midnight in a taxi to get home in Woodlands. Now it's $15. Whoopee. The advantage of living closer to the city and its drinking holes. The boring bit is the ride in the KPE, Singapore's most mind-numbing underground expressway. With speeds dictated at a mere 70km/h, taxi drivers are forced to restrain their F1 passions till they exit close to Tampines Road and gun the engine for all its pent-up worth.
Of greater concern to said friends is my next abode. I am looking for a flat. They are afraid I will give in to financial pressures and surrender to the sua-kangs of the north once more. Truth be told, I wish to not be in debt for the rest of my life and living in Yew Tee (close to Choa Chu Kang if you need to ask) would save plenty of pennies. However, fingers crossed, I find a suitable location in my current neck of the woods. I wouldn't mind Sengkang either but one said friend has nightmares of treading into this black hole, having been lost in its many vale-named nooks and crannies for an hour in a car. It was all too much. She now speaks in hushed tones about Sengkang, like one would speak of a psychological trauma that required months of theraphy and bottles of pills/alcohol.
The quest continues nonetheless. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, 8 December 2010
Sunday, 5 December 2010
Mum And I
Mothers are crazy. Maybe parents in general are. The older we get our relationship with them usually can go two general ways - one of reconciliation for the anguish sustained during the growing up years, based on mutual respect and understanding, and acceptance that both parties are independent adults with their own ideas, thoughts and habits OR haywire.
I think my mum and I are the latter. I am usually driven by logic, not really a risk taker and generally see things for all they simply are. My mum is not really driven by logic, sometimes a whim and fancy person, an emotional rollercoaster (she's a Scorpio) and enjoys testing the boundaries of her imagination and vengeful psyche when things/people don't quite rub her the right way. (No mummy, not everyone is out to get you.)
(I blame Indian dramas for the latter. Those who watch this mix of bad acting, religious fervor, stereotypical behavior and exaggerated reactions in the hope for a little escapism from the mundane can unfortunately expose their cerebral receptors to dangerous seeds of theatrical concepts. When lines are blurred or worse still, when the opportunity to perform arises, the actor in every Indian comes forth to enact scenes of high drama almost subconsciously.)
What's worse, my mum is loud. I think her hearing is going - like those harder of hearing talk louder. So she may not be angry but everything sounds like she wants to pick a fight. It's worse when my logic nerve wants to have a go. So we all end up in kind of heated huff and puff, we don't converse for a while and it's over. In the mean time, my mum complains to my sister, then cooks. Her excellent cooking forestalls my temper and placates all concerned. (She's proud of her cooking. I can't even make an omelette taste like hers after umpteen attempts.)
Today, my mum is trying to convince me that property agents are playing a game to get us to raise my offer for a flat. Yes, they do want to get more money in for the buyer. That's sort of their job. But guess what, there's no one else in the transaction process to trust - the point I was trying to get across, unsuccessfully unfortunately. Sigh. See earlier statement on huff and puff.
As the newer grown up in this relationship, I tell myself to relax and calm down. Sometimes it happens. Usually I go cold shoulder. I shouldn't I know but that's how I work, internalizing the crap. Let it go, let it go, deep breaths in, deep breaths out.
Tomorrow's another day, a better day perhaps. Let's all get some sleep.
I think my mum and I are the latter. I am usually driven by logic, not really a risk taker and generally see things for all they simply are. My mum is not really driven by logic, sometimes a whim and fancy person, an emotional rollercoaster (she's a Scorpio) and enjoys testing the boundaries of her imagination and vengeful psyche when things/people don't quite rub her the right way. (No mummy, not everyone is out to get you.)
(I blame Indian dramas for the latter. Those who watch this mix of bad acting, religious fervor, stereotypical behavior and exaggerated reactions in the hope for a little escapism from the mundane can unfortunately expose their cerebral receptors to dangerous seeds of theatrical concepts. When lines are blurred or worse still, when the opportunity to perform arises, the actor in every Indian comes forth to enact scenes of high drama almost subconsciously.)
What's worse, my mum is loud. I think her hearing is going - like those harder of hearing talk louder. So she may not be angry but everything sounds like she wants to pick a fight. It's worse when my logic nerve wants to have a go. So we all end up in kind of heated huff and puff, we don't converse for a while and it's over. In the mean time, my mum complains to my sister, then cooks. Her excellent cooking forestalls my temper and placates all concerned. (She's proud of her cooking. I can't even make an omelette taste like hers after umpteen attempts.)
Today, my mum is trying to convince me that property agents are playing a game to get us to raise my offer for a flat. Yes, they do want to get more money in for the buyer. That's sort of their job. But guess what, there's no one else in the transaction process to trust - the point I was trying to get across, unsuccessfully unfortunately. Sigh. See earlier statement on huff and puff.
As the newer grown up in this relationship, I tell myself to relax and calm down. Sometimes it happens. Usually I go cold shoulder. I shouldn't I know but that's how I work, internalizing the crap. Let it go, let it go, deep breaths in, deep breaths out.
Tomorrow's another day, a better day perhaps. Let's all get some sleep.
Friday, 3 December 2010
Sneaky Budget Airline Tricks
We've all somehow figured out that budget airlines scrimp and save on everything to be profitable. But the worst they can do is scam the customer. I use the word 'scam' because you may never realize their devilish plots for online bookings if you simply ploughed through the booking process in a rush or without testing fare types.
Here's what I found out. I was booking a trip for myself and friends on Jet Star. For a couple of days now, I've been checking out prices for 1 person to make a preferred pair of flights. Let's just say the outbound flight cost $X. When I searched the same outbound flight for 8 people (the size of my group) the fare became $X + 10. I went Hmmmm? too. I did some testing and found that that if I booked for 7 persons, I'd be shown the $X fare but the fare for the 8th booking, when done separately, would cost $X + 10. The jump is probably triggered by some seat volume quota being passed. But the big problem is, JetStar would have charged a $X + 10 fare for all 8 passengers if I didn't bother splitting the booking. That's $70 extra dollars on a fare that's $52. That's 15% more per ticket per person! Bloody hell I went.
Then there's the credit card facilitation fee or convenience fee. Jet Star charges $12, per passenger. Say what?! Yes $12 per passenger not per transaction. I was a more than a little surprised. It didn't make any sense to penalize all traveller for the sake of making an electronic payment, especially when the ticket prices are this low. For a total ticket price of $105, a fee charge like that is bloody more than 10%. It sounds insane! So here's what I did. I picked to pay offline. You can too. Just gotta head on down to a post office and pay with cash or Nets. No extras incurred. I did that because I'm a selfish ass, didn't want everyone paying more because I used a credit card, and there's a SAM on the 2nd floor of my office building.
So think before you click because sometimes budget doesn't always cut it.
Here's what I found out. I was booking a trip for myself and friends on Jet Star. For a couple of days now, I've been checking out prices for 1 person to make a preferred pair of flights. Let's just say the outbound flight cost $X. When I searched the same outbound flight for 8 people (the size of my group) the fare became $X + 10. I went Hmmmm? too. I did some testing and found that that if I booked for 7 persons, I'd be shown the $X fare but the fare for the 8th booking, when done separately, would cost $X + 10. The jump is probably triggered by some seat volume quota being passed. But the big problem is, JetStar would have charged a $X + 10 fare for all 8 passengers if I didn't bother splitting the booking. That's $70 extra dollars on a fare that's $52. That's 15% more per ticket per person! Bloody hell I went.
Then there's the credit card facilitation fee or convenience fee. Jet Star charges $12, per passenger. Say what?! Yes $12 per passenger not per transaction. I was a more than a little surprised. It didn't make any sense to penalize all traveller for the sake of making an electronic payment, especially when the ticket prices are this low. For a total ticket price of $105, a fee charge like that is bloody more than 10%. It sounds insane! So here's what I did. I picked to pay offline. You can too. Just gotta head on down to a post office and pay with cash or Nets. No extras incurred. I did that because I'm a selfish ass, didn't want everyone paying more because I used a credit card, and there's a SAM on the 2nd floor of my office building.
So think before you click because sometimes budget doesn't always cut it.
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Sadly Potter
Just caught the new Harry Potter film and wasn't it positively depressing? In the beginning we had quite a bit of action with the chosen one being sent into hiding and the baddies being sinister all over the place. Then the threesome we grew up with took to the trees and the doom and gloom of open, wintry countryside. It can be pretty and all that but with three teens lost in the wilderness, hormones raging, with the chance of old Voldy-smashed-nose and his henchmen set to appear from behind a leaf, the film went bloody suicidal.
You could see it Harry's face. He was probably thinking 'Fine, that about does it and points his spindly stick at himself and chants "hocus pocus, I'm a jokus out of 'ere". Even i was tearing up, commiserating with the poor boy's fate. But he didn't. Then there was way too many scenes of muted scenery, the kind that freaks kids out and sets us adults thinking there's a spooky apparition in every shadow. Gloomy dusk shots that brought so much darkness to the film. Isn't the bloody thing still for children? All the colour got drained off. It was melancholy and morose. Depressing and devolving. Stark and dark. All that forest and rock and snow, too much to bear. Brrrr, gave me the shivers. I miss the HP of yore. Fun and banter and sparks up the arse. (The 3 brothers animation was awesome by the way).
Maybe it was a metaphor for maturing teen angst. So much bottled up, all that pressure to be alive, so much legacy to honor and recapture, love and hate and love again, so many creeps with bad hair and smells around. Heinous film. All three protagonists need to see a shrink.
And that thing around the neck was so LOTR.
But I still wanna know what happens last. All because we deserve to follow through. In your grasp you got us JK Rowling, in your literary grasp. (I haven't read any of the books though and missed the last two films. Yes, yes, that explains my shock an awe at all the devilish hues and miserable faces. Anyway kids beware of not so pleasant dreams.)
You could see it Harry's face. He was probably thinking 'Fine, that about does it and points his spindly stick at himself and chants "hocus pocus, I'm a jokus out of 'ere". Even i was tearing up, commiserating with the poor boy's fate. But he didn't. Then there was way too many scenes of muted scenery, the kind that freaks kids out and sets us adults thinking there's a spooky apparition in every shadow. Gloomy dusk shots that brought so much darkness to the film. Isn't the bloody thing still for children? All the colour got drained off. It was melancholy and morose. Depressing and devolving. Stark and dark. All that forest and rock and snow, too much to bear. Brrrr, gave me the shivers. I miss the HP of yore. Fun and banter and sparks up the arse. (The 3 brothers animation was awesome by the way).
Maybe it was a metaphor for maturing teen angst. So much bottled up, all that pressure to be alive, so much legacy to honor and recapture, love and hate and love again, so many creeps with bad hair and smells around. Heinous film. All three protagonists need to see a shrink.
And that thing around the neck was so LOTR.
But I still wanna know what happens last. All because we deserve to follow through. In your grasp you got us JK Rowling, in your literary grasp. (I haven't read any of the books though and missed the last two films. Yes, yes, that explains my shock an awe at all the devilish hues and miserable faces. Anyway kids beware of not so pleasant dreams.)
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