Oat and Eggs

Ever tried microwaving oats and egg in the microwave? I'd highly suggest you not.

Have been stressed at work and planned to get into Heathrow at 6am the next morning so went to bed pretty early at 11pm. Skipped dinner and all since I just got back from frisbee at about 10pm. Must've have been more highly strung than I thought - woke up at midnight; hungry and worrying about Earned Value.

Breathing deeply and doing the 'Savasana' didn't help so I went to the kitchen to at least quieten my growling tummy. It was a debate between instant noodles or oats - didn't want to feel terribly full thus the oats won - microwaved a cup with an egg in it.

After a few minutes, took it out of the oven and stirred in some soya sauce. There was loud 'Pop!' and the whole thing exploded in my face.

It must have been an almighty blow-over as it was all over the floor, counter and ceiling. No matter that my shirt, face and hair had an instant oat-egg mask. Had to get on my hands and knees to scrub the floor and then climb the counters to clean the mess off the walls - at 1 am. If there's anyone feeling dumb and dumber at this time of night, it's me.

It's half one now and I'm still hungry.

Peckham Finishing School for Girls

I'll start with an analogy as I like them so much. London is like a lady decked-out in the latest togs; tight low-cut blouse and big branded handbag. From afar, she looks posh and loaded; come closer and you'll realise she's not a sweet-young-thing - closer to middle-age in fact but with all that bronzer on she's like a brassy potty beacon.

And so that's my first impression of London - no high-tea rooms, Royal Albert Hall Concerts and Burberry bag shopping - I came on a bus passing Croydon and saw a lot of coloured people.

Looking for accommodation in London is very educational in terms of Geography and Anthropology. Well-meaning advisors tell me -

East = Dodgy
West = Good
South = not good
North = better

So I found a place West - and realised I was practically in East Europe (other wise known as East Acton) Lots of Poles, Hungarians, Czechs etc. And so upon looking at the demographics, it roughly goes like this so I'm told:

North East - Vietnamese, African, Carribean
Central West- Middle Eastern, Indian
South East - African, Carribean
No English people live in London.

The commute to work was long and I didn't really like the Tube so against all the noise, I moved South East i.e. dodgy.

Telling my colleagues and friends where I live is a fun experience. My jingle goes like this,

Acquaintance: So where do you live?

Me: Oh, I live in the ghetto

Acquaintance: Really? Where's that?

Me:
Best answer - I live near London Bridge
2nd best answer - I live near Bermondsey
2nd least best answer - I live near Elephant and Castle
Worst answer(not recommended) - I live on the Old Kent Road

To be fair, I've lived where I live for more than a year now and I love it. I've never been stabbed nor shot-at. Though I've had to call the police a couple of times for being followed home and harrassed by a bunch of white kids. Otherwise, its not so bad.

So with great glee, I came across this BBC Programme entitled Peckham Finishing School for Girls: Four affluent girls from the countryside have their credit cards removed and given 6.50GBP a week to live on in not-so-posh Peckham - cluelessness will guarantee amusement.

I live 20 mins walk from Peckham which I do when I can btw - it's a nice stroll in a former canal through a park. Main reason: Peckham has a great library which opens Mon - Sunday.

Of Uniformity

Was off on the bus this morning a little later than usual as I had to run a few errands at the post-office before work. It always amazes me how a difference of a few minutes can quickly transform the density of the buses from 'lightly-squashed' to 'sardine-packed'. It was then that I realised that the additional unit of bodies were contributed by the school-going population of the city strata. I'm pleasantly surprised that the English schools still implemented the school uniform: boys in gray/black shorts and trousers, cardigans, long-sleeved shirt and tie; girls in blazer/cardigan, shirt, plaid skirts and long socks. (see M&S sales poster for uniforms)which brings forth my childhood images of Enid Blyton's schoolchildren i.e. The Naughtiest Girl in School, Malory Towers and St Clare's.



It would seem that the school uniform is still viewed as a positive method in instilling school ethos, discipline and pride in young people as encouraged by the Department of Children, Schools and Families (a UK Government agency responsible for issues regarding children up to the age of 19 until 2010). Although not all schools do it, there is encouraged implementation of uniforms for school children in England and Wales.

In Europe for example Germany, the traditional school uniform is never proposed in earnest but 'school clothing' such as t-shirts collections and set-clothing in a contemporary sense is often used.


And thus, the uniform is dying out as a perceived method of discipline - only implemented now in countries such as India, Sri Lanka, Japan, Malaysia.

Sweet William - 22 months

I brought my Sweet William over when I moved to Rolls Road in October 2008. It was still in the little pot which it was seeded in for a few months, the poor thing. It grew quite a lot as it was straining out of its perch so I hijacked one of the hanging pots outside my door (which had nothing it in - guess the previous inhabitant died) in hope that it would have a little place to grow.

It's been developing into this green mess. This is how it looks like outside my door -



And that's how it looks like every day, every evening and every morning, day-in, day-out. It blends into the background and every day life (sometimes I forget to water it). Occasionally when I come home from work I wondered if it was ever going to flower. It never did.

My surmise was that

a. it was still too young
b. the soil was infertile
c. the seeds are a dud

or maybe a combination of two or more factors. I mean, I still water it (and I give it more water than the other two plants outside the door which probably belonged to the previous tenants of the place just because it's mine) and sometimes I don't until I see it turning a little yellow and thirsty and then I hurry to the tap to get a little H2O and dump some water in the pot. I've even started seeding another little pot of Sweet William but that one died at my window sill because I forgot to water it.

So it sits there every day, every evening and every morning, day-in and day-out.
Until yesterday I noticed that it's been growing flowers (the sneaky little thing)!



I mean it's nothing like the picture on the packet which looks like this

but I'm happy for the flowers that it's yielding. I'm quite proud of my little Sweet William (Well done boy!). Despite them being tiny flowers I'm feeling pretty grateful. It's funny how life gives you a nice surprise when you least expect it to.

Now I have been harboring feelings for a certain person for about the same amount of time but that hasn't yielded any thing. Maybe

a. the relationship is premature
b. the conditions are not right
c. the seed is a dud

Should I take a lesson from Sweet William? But plants are not people and people are not plants. Maybe I should just grow plants instead - heck at least after 22 months, the plant yielded some flowers. Yeah, I'm picturing a little old spinster lady with her plants, baking cakes and scones and listening to sad Carpenter's songs like this one:



I'm doing all three pretty well now (heavens and horrors )... at this rate who knows what I'm capable of when I reach that age.

Rainy Days and Mondays - The Carpenters

Have been listening a lot to the Carpenters lately. I daresay Karen Carpenter's signature voice stands unrivaled to this day - bell-like, subtle but powerful. Such an unfortunate loss of a great singer but the duo's music still lives on after all these years.

Have chosen this song in conjunction with the rainy days in London befelling us.

Of Malaysia

"Malaysian politics" is like a big old building - it sits there too big to move, an eyesore, UGLY, painful but with very very deep foundations. You destroy the foundations and you destroy the building - for good but could possibly adversely affect the surrounding environment.

You could say I fit the stereotypical Chinese person who's apolitical and apathetic - I have very little knowledge on the going-ons on who's who and what's what, rarely read newspapers, watch TV or surf the internet on these issues. I have a scattering knowledge of cow's heads, castles in Klang, DVD sex-tapes and a Mongolian model being murdered.

Recent discussions and contact with some fellow Malaysians who are in the UK have emphasised 'Malaysian political' issues which intrigue me now than when I was in the country. Not sure why but maybe when we were back home, things were 'as it is', it was still possible to live without looking critically at the issues and how it was bleeding the nation.

It does take some time to come to a realisation that some of the things that are going on at home ARE disgusting, obscene and outrightly 'wrong'. Now how did that happen all of a sudden?

Anyeong Ha Se Yo

Read this article on the BBC news on life in North Korea. I wonder if it's really possible to mass-brainwash millions into happiness

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/newsnight/8701959.stm

Which reminded me of a conversation I had over drinks with my well-read colleague and she so happened to be reading a book on North Korea which jogged my memory on the one I read by Hyejin Kim entitled 'Jia'.

'Jia' is a part fiction-part autobiography of a little girl brought up as a dancer for the military regime in North Korea - her life, love and finally escape from North Korea into China. There are very few North Korean novels ( or any at all as this one claims to be the first to be published in the West) and I was very pleased to pick this one up while browsing the Peckham library. Highly recommended.

The Magnificent Obsession of Fred Lebow

Here's a striking story from a book called 'The London Marathon: The History of the Greatest Race on Earth' by John Bryan of Fred Lebow, one of the founders of the New York Marathon.

Fred Lebow was a fascinating and an energetic man, but when you met him you could be left in no doubt about his obsessive nature. He told me that at various points in his life he trained himself off regular meals and, in one particularly bizarre experiment, deliberately went without sex for a year to see what effect it would have on his body, his mind and his running.

He also set himself the target of competing in a marathon every month and confessed that a number of his relationships with girlfriends had hit the wall because of his running. Lebow became fixated with counting the number of miles he ran and logging them in a running diary. 'When I was living with one girlfriend,' he said, 'I set myself a goal to run 2,500 miles for the year. It was my New Year's resolution and maybe I was a bit obsessive about it.'

Towards the end of the year Lebow knew that he was getting close. On New Year's Eve he spent the day flying back from the West Coast where he'd been on business and on the plane he checked his running diary, adding up his mileage and concluding that he was 19 miles short of his total for the year.

'My girlfriend and I were off to a dinner party in Central Park West,' said Lebow, 'and when I got to her apartment around seven o'clock she had my suit and tie and shoes and all ready and she was trying on her evening gown ready for the party. But as soon as I got in I told her that I had just checked my diary amd I was still 19 miles short for the year. "I'll have to go and run," I said.'

Two hours or so later, after pounding his way around Central Park in the cold and rain and adding an extra mile just to be on the safe side, Lebow returned to find his girlfriend in tears. He got dressed and ready, fast. They made the party around 10 - too late for dinner but in time for the dancing and New Year resolutions. 'Way after midnight we both danced with other guests,' said Fred. 'Then later when I looked for her, I couldn't find her. Somebody said she went home.'

Unable to get a taxi at 2 a.m. in New York on New Year's Eve in the pouring rain, Lebow ran the couple of miles back to the apartment. When he got there, soaked and frozen, he found a suitcase in the hall outside her door, a bag with his running kit in it and an envelope.

'There was a long note kind of summing up our relationship, saying that she was kicking me out,' said Fred. His girlfriend had also added a PS. She had found his running diary, gone through it and added up his mileage. Fred had got that wrong too. It turned out that he had already run 2,531 miles for the year - over 30 miles more than his target. He didn't need to run at all that night.

Six months later the girl was married - but not to Fred Lebow

Hurt - Johnny Cash

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

[Chorus:]
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

The legendary country musician Johnny Cash fought a lifetime of drug addiction before returning to Christianity. I didn't realise how popular he was in Sweden until I saw 'Hurt' being played almost every instance at the student cafeteria (Skogis) in Umea University. It's one of those dark songs which border the fine line of 'depressing' or 'deeply personal' depending on when you listen to it. Recommended if you know the story of Johhny Cash or have watched 'Walk The Line'

Tooting Horns

Oh well, although monetarily the promotion doesn't work out to much, nevertheless its heartening to be recognized for a job well done (although I suspect my line-manager really wanted me to have an iPhone since I whined about having one all the time and this is his way of shutting me up) For those who are curious to know what I do now, I came in as a lowly graduate in a British firm starting from scratch.

Not one to blow my trumpet, I'll let my ex-line managers and client do it for me here. Below is a compilation of testimonials which was submitted last year for the Women in Construction Starter Award (which I didn't win but unabashedly felt proud for)

My first line manager at the Shard, P.R.'s, testimonial

"Fiona has done an excellent job as Project Controls Assistant at the Shard where she has designed, implemented and taken responsibility for the timely issue of various dashboard reports, formal monthly Steering Group reports and other necessary reports. Through her approach and ability to work with others, she ensures that the reports are issued on time with consistent and quality data. She has been openly praised by both the T&T Project Director and the client for the quality of the Steering Group Report.

From a learning perspective, she has played a role in developing the project programme, and has learning on the job to use the software and understanding the construction process.

From an overall perspective she has very quickly become an integral member of the team, respected and relied upon by both T&T team members and the client"

My first client at the Shard, Mr B Ainsworth's testimonial (who so happens to be the man who constructed the Millenium Dome - now called The O2 ):

"I have rarely seen someone grip a task, shape it, own it and deliver a result that would shame many of those who have been in our industry for many years.

Fiona joined our team in July and since that time the quality, content and timeliness of the teams reports and dashboards have improved dramatically. She has understood the criticality of reporting /information on a major project and has demonstrated the patience and commitment required to gather the information from a large number of sources ensuring the output appears when promised. All this achieved with the disregard to how at times it eats into her own personal time.

In additional to this ‘day job’ Fiona took the task of collating, setting out and producing an information booklet/ quick guide to the project. The quality of this has led to our marketing department adopting the same, and its overall popularity means it is heading for its third production run. Fiona also has taken on a further task of creation and management of substantial sections of our developer’s programme, a not inconsiderable task when you consider this is a £ ¾ billion inner city high rise project sitting within one of the busiest stations in London.

I find Fiona always ready to assist and somebody I can always rely on for quality, understanding and speed of output and I look forward to seeing her develop inside of my team, to her benefit as well as that of the industry"

And finally from my current line manager A.T. at Gatwick Airport (whom I thanked upon promoting me)

"You are most welcome Fiona. You thoroughly deserve it. Keep up the good work (now you can buy an iPhone)"

Just when I thought it was too tough to handle, things do come around. I have my colleagues and team to thank who've all made this journey worthwhile.

The Promise - Tracy Chapman

I'm embedding this because it's the 4th time someone's told me about this rather beautiful song. It's not in my list of Tracy Chapman songs but since serendipity called, I cannot ignore her.

Little India Hot Spots in London

Had some great South Indian food last weekend with Thina and Taps in East Ham. We went to Saravanna Bhavan (the same branch as the one in KL) and was mighty chuffed to see 'Gobi 65' (deep fried spiced cauliflower) on the menu. It's my favourite item on the menu in the branch back in Bangsar, KL. Yin Li and I would go to the Saravanna Bhavan on Jalan Maarof after Ashtanga Yoga on Sundays and put back what we've burnt with yummy Indian.

The last time I had south indian was in Wembley. There were lots of shops there but the one we ate was Shiv-recommended Sanghamam (vegetarian). Very nice chilli paneer.

I also understand that Tooting would also be another good place for South Indian food.

Otherwise, rows of vegetarian restaurants can also be found on Drummond street near Euston station. Priti recommends Ravi Shankar, a vegetarian restaurant(mostly North-fare). There are a couple of Indian grocery stores there as well.

The other well-known restaurant would be Pakistani 'Tayyabs' in Whitechapel. Really crowded in the evenings especially on weekends and you'd have to bring ur own corkage as they don't serve alcohol.

Brick lane has tons of Pakistani and north Indian along the road but not sure how authentic they are as they seem pushy and 'touristy'

Went to Southall today as its on the way from Heathrow to Paddington. Lots of clothes shops and North Indian restaurants here. Blew my grocery budget off with spices in the big 'Quality' store - the biggest Indian grocery (aptly a'super-store')which sells everything you need to make for paneer, ghulab jamuns, kerala, bendi, chutney and whatever you name it. I wanted to get a crate of mangoes but it would be ridiculous carrying it all the way to Central London, on the way to dinner.

Being Malaysian, I recognize the symptom of obsessive-food exploration. Will sometimes find it hard to explain to non-Malaysians about this tick. Nevertheless I'm proud that we are so varied that appreciation of the spices and styles of cooking is in-built within us. Love live all the Malaysian bellies.

More English 'English'

More on English 'English'

Both buttocks = A complete arse

Raspberry = cripple (Ripple)

China = Mate (Plate)

Trouble = wife (and strife)

Taking the piss = Make fun of

Snake and Pygmy Pie = Steak and Kidney Pie

2 vs 4, Us = Me = Ridiculosity

2 vs 4

Had another game of ultimate last friday and it was just 6 of us on the field this time (2 pulled out at the last minute) 8 is a passable number but 6 is pushing it for a game and push we did. Anyway since it was Ian (aka frisbee king)we had to split it into 2 and 4. It was a pretty relaxed game, too relaxed as we found ourselves losing anyway (either the 2 were really that good, or 4 of us were really lousy or a combination of both). The windy conditions didn't make it any easier either and we called it a day to go for a nice dinner at Hare and Tortoise (where I dumped some banana skin at the door in protest of the long queue and Ali tries to chat up the waitress - although I don't think asking for something more expensive than what's in the menu would do)

Us = Me = Ridiculosity

You know things are getting ridiculous when people don't express their expectations and when you don't fulfill them, you've 'failed' somewhat.

And then you find yourself apologizing for something which is not entirely your fault.

You also realise that you were always alone in it from the start and begin to wonder how big have you built this castle in the sky.

She's Always a Woman - Billy Joel

To all my girls out there....

She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child,
But she's always a woman to me

She can lead you to love
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe you
And she'll take what you give her, as long as it's free
Yeah, she steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me

CHORUS:
Oh--she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh--and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

And she'll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me
--Mhmm--

Bridge

CHORUS:
Oh--she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh--and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
And she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
--Mhmm--

Everly Brothers - Dream / Cathy's Clown

Vini came over and we sang to retro- hits (Are you Lonesome Tonight - Elvis, Jambalaya, Tie a Yellow Ribbon, Close To You - Carpentars etc.) which brought back memories of childhood when dad would put on his tapes in the yellow Ford station wagon while he and mom sat in front, me and sis would be at the back. He played all these 'then' hits, probably re-living his hey-days as a rocker, bowling champ, body-builder dude (he still keeps his Elvis bob till today) - me and sis were subjected to the 'oldies-but-goldies' the whole way through the car journey (sometimes repeatedly).

I grew to love these songs and had my particular favourites e.g. The Carpentars "Yesterday Once More", Cliff Richard's "Living Doll", "Evergreen Tree", Everly Brothers'"Cathy's Clown","Dream",(almost all in the record actually', Elvis "Devil in Disguise","Suspicious Minds" to name a few. When mom or dad parked the car and left me in it to run errands I'd reach over and 'touched' (which I wasn't supposed to) the tape player to fwd/rewind to my fave bits

Here's my favourite oldy-but-goldy band, the Everly Brothers singing my all time favourite "Dream" and "Cathy's Clown"

This Week in April

Well it's another month gone - salary's in.

I've been to 5 person's houses this month alone. Had 1 potluck in one, a big roast in another. Since last week have met quite a few new people (in life and in work)

Been sleeping late and neglecting exercise recently so that's the "not-good" bit. Get really cranky then.

Started playing ultimate which is the 'good' bit.

Worked in 2 airports - it's a time of change at work and am going to be moving from one to the other. Commute is really expensive and time-consumning but I look forward to the new development.

April was also the month of the London Marathon - quite exciting.

Celebrated Easter by playing for the church

Went on a mystery date

Finally went to Brighton with the girls and we had a lovely time.

Had some really good news from friends about
a. moving house
b. getting hitched
c. baby moving into 2nd trimester
d. found a boyfriend
e. Going home for good
f. coming back to the UK from home
g. changing career
h. buying a car


The weather is getting really warm now and I can't stand wearing a coat in the train. Now moving into the mid of the 2nd quarter of 2010 - you know you're enjoying life when it moves so quickly.

To all the Marathon Runners- Past, Present & Future

Tomorrow will be one of London's greatest days in the year, and probably one of the greatest in the sporting calendar- the Virgin London Marathon. If this is your first marathon, you'd been training for the past months now and have had your trial run around London.You probably have some sort of ailment i.e. sore knee, aching ankle or shints but what's more worrying is not the physical ailment but the risk of not finishing the race. For all you marathon runners, whether fledgling or veteran, the same feelings will be there: anxiousness, trepidation, excitement, anticipation. You've probably noticed that it has been a week now since they've put up signs on the road 'Road Closure for the London Marathon April 25 2010' Pubs are displaying free grub for marathoners - you start off on the Sunday morning on the DLR with the fact that the whole of London and the world will be cheering you on.

As a writer wrote "We're all involved in this somehow - we all know someone who's taken part - who's succumbed to, overcome, or been overtaken by, some guy dressed as a llama'

For all you london marathoners out there, past, future and present, whether running or not; the pain is temporary but the pride is forever.

God gives

Got a really nice message from Lat today

" I miss my friends. When I see some other gang sitting around, caring, slapping each other, their mischievous smiles switching to loud laughters. Though stranger to me, they represent a part of my life I lost somewhere. I miss my friends. I like you, love you all and miss you all"

I miss you all too! (to the Kajai gang) and also to Angie and the girls.

Getting nostalgic now with a few friends leaving the UK in the coming months. Especially being single in a foreign land, your friends tend to become your family here. There's also the realization that people are likely to move in and out of our lives quite frequently with London being such a transient city. (Am also coming to terms with the fact that some friends are also leaving Malaysia and I'd probably not see them for a very long time)

On another note, I spoke to my mum last week about Aunty Nora. Somehow I thought about her (funnily enough, mum was thinking very much about her too) She and Uncle Ibrahim used to come over and play golf with mum and dad, hang out at our place in the evenings playing 'pok-kuat', go on holidays together many years ago when I was a teenager (I remember the great East Coast road trip where a few families drove to Banting to Kelantan to Pahang, to Terengganu and all the way back to KL). I grew up, went to university, started working. But Uncle Ibrahim and Aunty Nora would still now and then come to play golf with mum and dad but less so. Unfortunately she is not here with us today as she's passed away a few years ago God bless her.It seems unreal that people move on from this earth but you'd expect to see them one day.

So the next time someone hurts or disappoints, makes us laugh or cry with happiness, we can comfort ourselves with this phrase:

"God doesn't give you the people you want, he gives you the people you NEED. To help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you and to make you into the person you were meant to be."

"Happiness is a by-product"

How ironic it is that in the pursuit of happiness, we become unhappiness in itself.