aDrenais' Book of Shadows

I know I'm alittle late in discovering this, but it's oh so cool!!



Picture courtesy of: http://i.i.com.com/cnwk.1d/i/bto/20071012/spinningdancer.gif

In "The Unbearable Lightness of Being", Milan Kundera wrote:

Insofar as it is possible to divide people into categories, the surest criterion is the deep-seated desires that orient them to one or another lifelong activity. Every Frenchman is different. But all actors the world over are similar - in Paris, Prague, or the back of beyond. An actor is someone who in early childhood consents to exhibit himself for the rest of his life to an anonymous public. Without that basic consent, which has nothing to do with talent, which goes deeper than talent, no one can become an actor. Similarly, a doctor is someone who consents to spend his life involved with human bodies and all that they entail. That basic consent (and not talent or skill) enables him to enter the dissecting room during the first year of medical school and persevere for the requisite number of years.

What an incredibly sophisticated way of putting into words what we all know (sort of). It got me wondering how much I have in common with my colleagues, some of whom I absolutely detest.

1) Just as all actors consent to a life sans privacy, the common denominator shared by all cabin crew is our willingness to allow people to treat us as servants. How else can I explain walking 30m up the aisle to answer a call bell, only to smile and say "I'd be right back with your coke with ice"? Granted, not every passenger will be a piece of shit and treat us as his personal slave, but there are enough of them going around for the idea that we're nothing more than waiters and waitresses to always remain at the forefront of our minds.

2) All of us at Etihad (and the rest of the Middle Eastern airlines) consented to leaving our homes, our family, and all that was familiar in search of adventure/money/a new life. We all miss the birthdays of loved ones, the weddings of beloved friends, and milestones of important people in our lives on a regular basis, and can do nothing more than moan about it.

3) We all have good excuses not to go home - the pay back home is miserable compared to what we're earning, there's the house/loan/car to pay off, it's too hard securing a job back home while we're overseas, and what kind of job will allow you to travel while working in a stress-free environment?

4) Because we fly with different people every flight, the fleeting alliances we form wreck havoc on conventional definitions of 'friends' and 'confidantes'. The tendency is for us to spill our guts to whoever's at hand, usually someone whom you meet for the first time onboard. Possibly it's also due to the fact that we are all away from family and close friends; therefore we're unable to satisfactorily confide in those closest to us. Perhaps it's because our woes can be easily understood by our colleagues, many who are also maintaining a long-distance relationship (what other kinds of problems are there?).
My theory is that all cabin crew share a personality trait: the preference to confide in acquaintances rather than close friends for fear of being judged or having close friends view oneself differently in light of the problem (or rather, how the problem is being resolved). Of course this does not apply to every single crew member; but I'd be hard pressed to find a single flight attendant who's never shared important news with somebody irrelevant i.e. his/her colleague.

I arrived home from an incredible London block 2 hours ago, to an apartment that bears evidence of a very depressed person. There is an almost empty bottle of Sang Som whisky (Thai) on the table, a packet of Marlboro Reds next to a makeshift ashtray and an overflowing wastebin full of random junk. I hope my flatmate is ok, I'm not so good at providing comfort to people I hardly know.

Incredible London block started off with an 8-hour flying time to London, totally flabbergasting. It usually takes 6 hours; the 2 times I've been to London with Etihad definitely had flying time under 7 hours. Strong headwind, the captain said. Strong headwind didn't quite cut it as an explanation to why we served only 1 hot meal and 1 ice-cream service in 8 hours, as various passengers demanded to know. Luckily it wasn't a full flight, and the set of crew was largely hardworking, so we fobbed the more demanding passengers off with tea, coffee and lots of biscuits.

I flew with Janice, an fellow Singaporean who in my opinion shares a number of my character traits. She's highly opinionated, thinks too much, is hopeless at asking lazy crew members to work, and kanchiong as hell. Like me, she thanks everybody for everything, says sorry and therefore assumes blame for everything that occurs when she's galley person, and seeks perfection in carrying out her role. She's even from Chinese Orchestra in secondary school can! I had a most enjoyable time shopping (at Primark) and eating (free buffet breakfast in the hotel) with her, chattering away non-stop the whole time. I do hope we get to do more layovers together.

Incredible London block ran into a 2-hour delay at London Heathrow airport, after we boarded 151 passengers in Economy. There apparently was a technical fault in the Auxilliary Power Unit, which prevented us from taking off. We therefore had to suffer the wrath of 151 passengers, most who had connecting flights to Johannesburg and Kuala Lumpur with less than 2 hours transit time in Abu Dhabi. It's been a long long while since I had to face passengers that exasperated, and it took quite awhile before I was forming eloquent responses to the barrage of questions that were directed at the crew. The Cabin Manager came around to assure the passengers that the Captain will contact HQ and hold the Jo-burg and KL flights for the connecting passengers, which appeased them somewhat.

However! Horrors of horrors - during disembarkation, I smilingly assured everybody that their flights will be waiting for them, and wished them a good onward journey. Only after we reached the terminal did I find out that all the said flights left on time. I felt really bad because I'd inadvertently caused them even greater distress by raising their expectations. There were passengers who had to rush to the hospital at their respective destinations to the deathbeds of loved ones, and I can't help but feel guilty at my empty assurances that they'd be able to make it. I left the airport as quickly as possible after I picked my suitcase from the carousel, so that I won't have to face the mass of passengers who will be spending a night at a hotel instead of heading home as I promised they would. The feeling of failing people really sucks, even if they are people I don't know and will probably never see again.

I took alot of pictures onboard, mainly of the landscape that seemed to change every half hour when we were bound for London. Unfortunately, I look like crap in the pictures I took with the crew, so no pictures to show. Just when everybody's congratulating me on how good I look all dolled up, I received a timely reminder that it's all thanks to make up and lighting, and looking good in pictures involves more luck than unadulterated good looks. Speaking of which, I need to do something about my face! The breakout is not worsening, but it's not improving either, and I've been living with a spotty complexion for over a month now and it's driving me nuts.

According to the captain, this is somewhere in Romania, all these snow-capped mountains. It's breathtaking to watch, such gorgeous landscape stretching so far.

This, as advised by the captain, is the Alps of Austria. It looks less barren, more glacial and romantic. My pictures don't do the actual landscape any justice at all.

And thus concludes my incredible London block.

My day spent at Surfer's Paradise. Ok, more like 2 hours spent on the beach. I forced myself to make my way to the Gold Coast on the third day, just so that nobody can accuse me of wasting my Brisbane 75-hour layover. There was this angmoh girl who settled down next to my spot on the beach and proceeded to take her top off while sunbathing! Everybody who walked past was gawking; I had half a mind to take my top off too since everybody's attention was riveted only on her boobs. Sadly, good sense prevailed and I kept my top firmly tied on.

Brother's 19th birthday. He was aghasted by the number of candles on his cake, he who's only a bloody teenager. Boon's right, we are carbon copies of each other!

And finally, the very last picture I took in Singapore.

In a totally unrelated thread, everybody I know is married/getting married! A short 2 hours spent on Friendster uncovered 4 friends who have been married for a couple of months now, help!

My 100th post with blogger, a milestone out of nowhere. I remember starting out tentatively, doing my best not to fall into the trap of anal ramblings about daily occurences coughPriscicough. While I haven't been the most interesting of bloggers, I like to think that blogging has provided me with a way of keeping my friends updated about what's happening in my life in a non-invasive manner. It's also an effective way of chronicling major events in the past few years - God knows I'd never be able to hang on to a diary for that long. Looking through posts dating back to June 2004, I see recurring themes like malfunctioning toilet bowls and my love affair with concerts, not to mention friends who've been there all this while. Blessed, I am.

Winter snucked up sneakily while I was away. I returned to a temperature of 23degrees at night, cold enough to warrant thick sweater wearing at home for me. It's possible that I felt the cold more acutely because I'm drained from all the running around while in Singapore, or due to the fact that I acclimatised myself to sunny Singapore too successfully. The most likely reason, though, is that I'm getting old, and my tired bones are no longer as sprightly as before. Everything requires more effort now, from meeting up with friends to reading the newspapers without falling asleep.

In the 2 48-hour slots I was in Singapore, I:
- went for a 5-hour KTV session with my family
- had supper at Simpang, twice
- collected my Jay Chou tickets from Tampines Post Office
- met my 3299 bunch at 85
- ate Katong Laksa with my family and Mr Tan
- walked Toby
- went grocery shopping in NTUC with Mummy
- played postman and delivered parcels on behalf of 2 friends
- bought pens from Popular with Looloo
- had Long John Silver *slurps*
- met YingJian and DaJian at Bugis for dinner
- had my most expensive supper ever in Singapore at Satay King in Clarke Quay
- gathered my long-lost family at Cafe Cartel for a reunion dinner
- sat on the platform at Pasir Ris MRT station and lamented for 1 hour the existence of CMI-guys-who-think-the-world-of-themselves with Ling
- watched Tony Leung flash his balls in Lust, Caution on Onglai's recommendation
- socialised with Elgin's family
- celebrated Muel's birthday with an absolutely to-die-for durian cake from Prima Deli
- got angry with Elgin 5 times
- ran errands for my flatmate in Bugis Junction
- packed a suitcase that weighed almost 30kg

whenever I wasn't having sex. ONLY KIDDING!

In contrast, in the 75 hours I spent in Brisbane, I:
- finished reading The Witch of Portobello
- watched National Geographic (I'm officially a dork, I actually took notes while watching Nat Geo because I found the "My Brilliant Brain" feature so fascinating)
- practised Arabic for a grand total of 1 hour
- went to the Gold Coast just so I could tell people I went somewhere during my stay in Brisbane
- shopped at the Queen's Street Mall
- ate fast food twice and cooked instant noodles for all the other meals because the AUD is so ridiculously strong at the moment
- surfed Facebook for many, many hours on the computer terminal in the crew room

Blogger's being a bitch about photo posting, something about TCP network error, so my 100th post will have to be a drab one without pictures.

Congrats Jia, you really really do deserve it.

I apologise for all the ill-mannered sulking I was doing in the last post, all is good now that I managed to procure 2 tickets for the Jay Chou World Tour 2008 on 18th Jan 2008, on his 29th birthday! It was another nerve-wrecking experience with plenty of timeouts and wrong e-mails entered, but all that matters is that I'm going, and not by myself too. I can't wait to write my long sob story for my days off request in January, I have have have to get back to Singapore no matter what. OOh, life is beautiful :)

About an hour after I published my previous post, I discovered by accident that Jay Chou's 8th album was released on 2nd Nov, On the Run. I wasn't aware that there'd be a new album, and was already wondering why nobody back home told me about it when I found out the Jay Chou World Tour 2008 will be in Singapore on 18-19 Jan 2008, on his 29th birthday. Although I unearthed this bit of vital information in time for public sales opening on 5th Nov, chances of me actually getting a ticket are minimal due to the record sell-out of tickets.

There was an article in The New Paper on 25 Oct about the mad dash for tickets, where "Sistic chief operating officer Kenneth Tan told The New Paper that the concert “broke all previous records” at the ticketing agent." That's totally understandable, given then his last concert was a whooping 3 years ago. Perfectly logical to me, even. What I cannot understand is why not a single person in Singapore thought to inform me about the event, knowing that I feel so strongly about attending concerts of worthy artistes.

It's incredibly childish to blame others for this missed opportunity because I was the one who chose to live overseas after all, but I cannot help but feel severely let down. I've been raging all day, against myself as well for not keeping closer tabs on news of Jay. It's just...I'm out of control when it comes to concerts, they are one of the only things I feel passionately about. More than a year ago, I wrote a very very long entry when I missed a Wu Bai concert to make my father happy, and until now I'm not sure if I've forgiven him entirely. I was really bummed when I missed the Mayday concert this year in June, but at least i flew back to Singapore December especially for the ABC concert featuring Mayday so it wasn't such a big deal missing the Mayday concert.

Listening to the songs from the new album now, courtesy of Lepencil. Thank you so much master, you really are too kind.

It was a good flight to Jakarta - quiet, easy. The one thing that stayed on my mind long after the flight is the plight of an Indonesian housemaid who boarded the aircraft with a walking stick and winced in pain with every step she took. It wasn't the ill-tempered wince of somebody who was frustrated by the limitations inflicted by whatever injury she had, it was a sad, quiet holding back of tears of someone well-acquainted with hiding emotions like fear and pain. My Bahasa is totally shitty, so I couldn't communicate with her except to ask her what she'd like to eat and drink, entirely irrelevant considering her situation.

She calmed down after we took off, and appeared to be asleep every time I checked on her. She ate with everybody else, and made little response to my queries about how she was even though she could speak English reasonably well. It wasn't until we started to descend that she began to cry in earnest because the pain was too much to bear. I summoned the only Indonesian crew member on board (Ollie) and requested that she spoke to the passenger, and it was only then I found out that my passenger had just undergone surgery to insert a steel rod into her spine and was in terrible pain from the surgery wound in her side. Only after she disembarked did Ollie tell me that my passenger had fallen 4 storeys, a result of being shoved out of the balcony by her employer in Saudi Arabia.

It's a freaking horror story, and there's nothing I can do but ask my passenger if she wanted to have something to eat or drink. Honestly, life sucks. I suppose it must be even more painful for Ollie because there's also a sense of guilt attached, that she is able to command a much higher salary than her fellow countrymen just because she speaks better English and is bold enough to be more than a housemaid. It was really unbearably sad, made worse because I couldn't do anything to help.

She's not the first abused Indonesian housemaid I've encountered, and she'll certainly not be the last. It's heart-breaking to watch these gentle ladies coming onboard with various trauma they'd suffered in the name of making more money to support families back home. Unlike the Filipino housemaids, most of them cannot speak much English and are therefore more reserved in nature. This makes them very appealing to families in Saudi Arabia, who haven't caught onto the fact that housemaids are not slaves or chattel.

I suppose once I can speak Arabic reasonably well, I could apply for a visa to enter Saudi Arabia to volunteer with the welfare shelters there, if there are any to begin with. But down inside, I know I haven't got the strength to witness such appalling cruelty on a daily basis, and will probably end up just donating money to such causes instead. Which begs the question: if even I, a person witnessing their plight firsthand, is not moved sufficiently to do something for them, what hope have they got from the rest of the world?

I arrived from Bangkok this morning, and am departing for Jakarta in a few hours. I seriously need the rest because Jakarta is an 8-hour flight, and we arrive at the same time as SQ so it's important in a big-time manner to not look as crappy as I usually do after long flights, but I'm too tired to sleep :( It doesn't happen often, but when it does it's the suckiest feeling the world, not being able to rest and knowing that I'm so going to pay for it later.

Moo, a Thai national and dear friend from Gulf Air, met up with me during my time in Bangkok, as a result I only spent USD100 this time. Very pleased with myself because I displayed extreme self-restraint, and bought only 600Bt worth of groceries this time. I came back with a new toy - a Linksys Wireless-G USB Network Adaptor. It is basically an antenna, and it cost me a freaking 1250Bt. It allows me to churi wireless networks with greater success, so that I receive a steady signal for longer periods of time. So much for turning into a better person and putting a stop to my unethical tapping of Internet access.

I had dinner with Moo and her family at a hip restaurant near MBK; it was seriously good Thai food. Having locals take you to favourite eating spots is in my opinion the biggest favour they can do you, much better than having them showing you around and doing the touristy things that can be done with or without their presence. Moo was kind enough to show me her house, and it was with great excitment I viewed for myself the insides of a house in Krung Thep. Same same, but different.

Ling: I'll definitely call you when I'm back, and hopefully this time we'll be able to see Spence after a period of...5 years?

Ting: What else can we do as friends, but to be there for those we love when they fall, and hurt? That said, I'd gladly supply you with the superglue. And chilli powder. And icecubes. We'll hurt him good.

Ying: You take things easy, don't overwork yourself on that miserable teacher's salary. Have a fabulous birthday my dear.

Jia: We have a date.

And now, I'll try to sleep. God have mercy on my wretched soul and grant me just 2 hours, 2 hours of uninterrupted rest please.

The churi-ed Internet access is becoming less and less stable, I need to stop being such a cheapskate and start paying for my Internet connection soon.

I spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out my password for my SMU e-mail account; it's one of the annoying ones that have you changing your password every 3 months, and the new password must not recycled from the latest 6 passwords, nor can it be any part of your name. There must be upper and lower cases, and contains both letters and numbers. It's a wonder I managed to maintain it until now, actually.

I just did my accounts, and I'm a happy girl. Ok, woman. Fucking Britney Spearesque, "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman". I'm too old to be calling myself a girl, but I haven't earned the right to claim to be a woman. I think I'll settle for being a happy person at the moment. I'm a happy person.

I'm down to the last 2 episodes of Grey's Anatomy Season 3, and I can't bear to watch them because Grey's Anatomy was my reason for living for the past 2 weeks. Maybe I'll bring Season 1 from Singapore so that I can watch all the seasons in an endless loop.

I'm spending an inordinate amount of time petting people's online pets and feeding food to virtual creatures on Facebook, it's an excellent time waster for people like me wasting away in a foreign land with nothing better to do.

And before you puke from the crap I'm writing, I cannot collect my thoughts long enough to form a coherent paragraph because I have a Singapore flight in Nov!! Woohoo I'm going home for free, and staying 2 days each way between Abu Dhabi and Brisbane, how lucky is that! I'm a happy person. Very happy.

Photo time

Another breath-taking view from the aircraft, this time taken as we approached Geneva. I had the shittest shot out of the entire crew, something to do with having to disloadge my huge camera from the clutter in my bag. Serves me right for not clearing out my bag periodically.

The 2-day layover was idyllic, starting with the search for the flea market that was listed on http://www.geneva.info/: "Plaine de Plainpalais – The largest outdoor flea market in Geneva where locals go to hawk their old and often valuable ‘junk’, be it paintings, records, dish sets, antiques or vintage clothing."

Plaine de Plainpalais is also home to a skate park, and the sight of funky, graffiti-covered skate ramps in the middle of stately European buildings was strangely incongruous. I'm guessing that I visit Europe most frequently among the people I know, but even so I cannot shake myself out of stereotyping all angmohs as powersuit-clad afternoon-tea-drinking gourmet-food-chomping people who visit art museums for fun.

It was great fun looking through what the Swiss consider 'junk', and just enjoying the festive atmosphere that flea markets generate. Sadly, the meagre amount of Swiss francs I budgeted for this trip wasn't enough to cover 80% of the stuff displayed.

A similarly-impoverished crew member came with me on my budget tour of Genva, and she suggested that we visit Saint-Pierre Cathedral. Boy I'm glad she did because I wasn't planning to visit it, being not too keen on cathedrals myself. Abit more about the cathedral from its brochure: "Built between 1150 and 1230, Saint-Pierre Cathedral displays both Romanesque and Gothic features, as well as a monumental neo-classical portico. (whatever that means) In addition to its obvious historical interest, Saint-Pierre Cathedral has a particular spiritual significance: from 1536, with John Calvin, it became a focal point of the Reformation; as a result, it is the most visited monument in Geneva."

The north and south towers rise 54m from the cathedral, and for a mere 4 Swiss francs I purchased the right to ascend the towers to a breathtaking view of the city. That'd be the Jet D'Eau in the middle of the lake, another iconic landmark of Geneva.

I remember visiting Geneva with my family years ago and glaring mutinously at the Jet D'Eau while we had a picnic lunch by the lakeside, pissed off with the fact that we travelled 3 hours by train just to see a fountain. I suppose it's a sign of maturity that I'm now able to appreciate the views, savour the sights, and do whatever older people are supposed to do.

The second day, I went to Place de la Fusterie, hoping to catch a glimpse of the handicraft flea market that was supposed to be on every Thursday. Unfortunately, it was really just a handful of stalls selling odds and ends, passed off as art. That said, there were a couple of stalls selling really beautiful things, at store prices.

It was not a wasted trip downtown; I chanced upon the Tourist Information centre, and decided to make my way to the European Headquarters of the United Nations located in Geneva. A 15-min bus ride later, I was at the main entrance:

The above is the visitor entrance, 500m away from the main entrance round the corner. This picture was taken from the International Headquarters of the Red Cross, which I unfortunately didn't get to visit due to lack of financial resources :(

I'm pointing to the Singapore flag! Learnt heaps during the visit; it was almost like being in Secondary 4 history class again. There are 192 member countries in the UN, out of 194 countries recognised in the world. The 2 exceptions are the Vatican City out of choice, and Palestine because...well, really I have no idea because of what. Elgin said it's because Palestine is now part of Israel.

This is one of the conference rooms in the new wing of the Palais des Nations. It was exactly like The Interpreter, I wonder if it was filmed in there?

This is one of the rooms in the old wing, built in the times of the League of Nations. The working languages of the UN are English and French, but there are 6 official languages of the UN: English, French, Arabic, Mandarin, Spanish and Russian.

And finally, a picture to prove that I was there. I think I'm looking more and more like my brother. Freaky.

Today's the second day of my layover in Geneva, I didn't expect to like it here but it's great! The hotel is not so posh but overall ok, the business centre in the hotel allows free printing of materials on top of Internet access, so I've been spending many hours here printing out rubbish e-mail forwards as well as important documents. The TV channels available are alittle rubbish with only CNN and BBC in English, but the French channels aren't half bad.

My memory of Geneva from my holiday in Switzerland with my family many years ago is hazy, and in all honesty I didn't have that great a time because we were busy dashing around visiting as many cities as possible. This time, with 48hrs to while away in Geneva, I had a smashing good time enjoying the city and the sights. The Jet D'Eau, the European Headquarters of the United Nations, Saint Peter's Cathedral; they were all duly admired at the most leisurely pace. The gigantic spoiler was the fact that my camera battery ran out after the first day, leaving me with only the camera phone to take pictures for posterity. Still, it's much better than no pictures at all, and I'll be sure to post them up when I get back to Abu Dhabi.

The holidays taken in Europe with my family have trained me well; it was a piece of cake surviving 48hrs on sandwiches, biscuits, chocolates and instant noodles - not a single cent spent on food. Some find it a torture not to enjoy local cuisine, e.g fondue in Switzerland, spaghetti in Italy, but I find it an even greater torture to bust any amount of money on food when there's nothing to show for it in the end. Rather gather some material acquistions on the way than have my money end up as shit, don't you think? :)

Sept 25
Spent a miserable Mid-Autumn Festival by myself, eating a whole mooncake because I couldn't bear to let it go to waste and nobody was around to share it with me, and periodically (grumpily) craning my head out of the window to look at the full moon as it was out of view from the couch. I have green teabags somewhere, but it was too much of a hassle to locate them just to make tea for myself, so I had my mooncake with Coke instead. Gah.

Sept 26
Did a Bangkok flight that had me arriving at the hotel in Bangkok at 7.30pm local time in Bangkok. I proceeded to do my grocery shopping that night at Carrefour, and in the 7 hours I spent in MBK the next day, I spent a staggering 7,000 Bt. That works out to 1,000 Bt per hour on the average, I need therapy! I need counselling! I need to have more discipline! I'm a disgusting, incorrigible hoarder.

Oct 1
Went for my first Cairo flight ever, and it wasn't half bad. Cairo flights have quite a reputation for nasty passengers, screaming brats, idiots trying to take everything from the aircraft, including the meal tray, blanket and life jacket, you get the idea. Possibly it's because it's Ramadan now, therefore the passengers are in the state of Ihran (being tolerant, at peace with yourself and your surroundings) while fasting, so I got off easy. It wasn't an easy flight, but it was surprisingly unshitty.

Back to the present: All's quiet because I've been busy with Arabic classes, wasting money downroute, and watching Queer As Folk. I'm enjoying my Arabic classes immensely. I'm currently learning how to conjugate verbs (I always wondered what that means when the characters in Enid Blyton complained about verb conjugation for French class, now I know!), man it's tedious! For example, if the sentence is 'to read a book', there are 5 different ways of saying 1) I read my book 2) You read your book (when speaking to a man) 3) You read your book (when speaking to a woman) 4) He reads his book 5) She reads her book. Exciting stuff.

Queer As Folk is about a bunch of gay folks, and I love them to bits! More than just their queer lifestyle, the series explore themes like friendship, self-esteem, questioning of one's sexuality (in one episode, the most flamboyant bottom of the gang turned to a church group "See the Light" when he felt that there was more to his life than dick and gym - spooky deja vu! I should send the episode to Mr Daniel Goh) etc. The emphasis on the strong friendship ties between the characters had me dreaming of my old friend MS for a few nights consecutively, until I couldn't tell if what I remembered of her is fact or stuff I made up in my dreams. I can't wait for my next Jakarta flight so that I can buy up the other seasons of Queer As Folk. Oh, I didn't mention did I, I bought 78 pieces of DVDs the last time I went to Jakarta. Moderation is for wimps.

Off to bed, Frankfurt tomorrow. I wonder how many frankfurters I can load into my suitcase? :)

I finally got the photos from our training days from my ex-flatmate, here's the only one that makes any sense:

There are days when you're on form at work/school, and days when you're absolute crap. I was absolutely crap on the COK turnaround I did last night, kept falling asleep even with the Cabin Manager keeping an eagle eye on me. The service was alright, it was the stench in the cabin that was making everybody sick.

My new flatmate moved in yesterday, Swedish. She's the one that's sharing my bathroom, so I'm reserving judgment until I see the state of my bathroom after 1 week.

I've been a bloody ingrate, sending e-mails to family and friends less frequently after Daddy took the trouble to bring my laptop to Abu Dhabi. My theory is that convenience begets complacency, a false sense of being on top of things, so that I end up thinking I don't have to rush to write my updates since I can do it anytime. This can be contrasted to the period when I didn't have my laptop, and had to split my e-mail writing into half-hour blocks because I didn't want to hog the terminals, and still managed to send lengthy e-mails with greater frequency. Of course, this is compounded by the fact that having Internet access allows hours of aimless surfing, an evil distraction to serious e-mail writing. Just like how we lead our lives!

When something or somebody is around all the time, we take it for granted that we don't have to address the issue rightaway, a false sense of security that the thing or person will always be around for us to handle at our leisure. Yet, when we remove this luxury of the person's or object's presence, we often find that we max out our potential when we function, achieving greater efficiency. The false sense of security is what's in the way of spending more time at home with our parents, reading that book that we always wanted to read, and doing that course we've been meaning to do for the longest time. Because they'll always be there.

The idea, of course, is to start living life with a greater awareness of what's important to us, instead of being lulled into the false sense of security. It's well and good when the absence prompts improved performance, but in the same thread, parents will not live forever, friends will not hang around if we don't make an effort to keep them, and before we know it, life will pass us by.

Yay, my laptop is back in Abu Dhabi, battery fully functional! Taking pity on my sad Internet connectionless existence, Dad flew over on Singapore Airlines (on his own expense but I'm going to pay him back once I start earning proper money) on a 10% staff ticket, not expensive considering but still twice as expensive as the same discounted flight on Etihad Airways. His check-in luggage was 30kg worth of pork, both frozen and canned, for my sustenance until I start getting Singapore flights. He also brought mooncakes, paper lanterns and a pomelo without my asking, so that I could celebrate Mooncake Festival with my friends here. Is my dad the greatest or what?

Dad only managed to spend 4 nights in Abu Dhabi, due to the limitations of SQ flying to Abu Dhabi only 3 times a week. Still, that was plenty time to see the sights in Abu Dhabi, and there was even time to take a disappointing daytrip to the nearby oasis Al Ain. He also attended my Arabic classes with me, taking notes like a good student. Unlike the last time he visited me in Bahrain, this time I cooked each time we ate in, albeit with help from my duper friends. That's some progress, eh? Now, if only I can learn to cook some more dishes than the standard few...

And I'm glad to announce that this time, he did not uncover any illicit items unsuitable for parental viewing.

Yep, I finally stopped procrastinating and signed up for Arabic lessons, bloody expensive but absolutely necessary to ensure that I take the lessons seriously. The language centre (private) is a 15-min walk from my apartment, not so ideal in the 40-degree celsius heat but I'm keeping the thought of the savings on cab fare and the calories burned firmly at the front of my mind. It's great fun returning to school, school as in elementary learning where every bit of progress made is starkly apparent, as compared to university subjects that confound the best of us. I've gone mad buying jotter books with lines printed specially for Arabic script (like music books with 5 lines, only that mine has 4) for me to do my 习字, and revel in the pleasures of doing penmanship with a pencil and eraser, like so long ago. And now, halfway through my course, I can tell you how to say leek and artichoke in Arabic although I'm fairly sure I've never eaten either in my life, and know how to say 'fasten your seatbelts' in Arabic.

There are e-mails waiting for me to write, but I keep getting stuck on Friendster, messaging old friends and classmates out of the blue just to ask them how they are doing. I really do enjoy looking at their pictures, marveling at how they've changed and how well they are doing now. I know Friendster is uber passe now and everybody's migrated to Facebook, but as I keep telling people, I must have exhausted my brain cells on Friendster, because I have absolutely no idea how to work Facebook. Besides, Friendster has been a faithful companion all the times I was lonely overseas, from Xiamen to Bahrain to Abu Dhabi; I can hardly abandon it just because there's a new kid on the block.

Earlier this month on the 9th, I did a Munich with only 110 passengers going to Munich and 65 coming back to Abu Dhabi in Economy class, bliss! I had a wonderful time in Munich too, first wandering aimlessly around Landshut, the little town where we were put up in, then heading downtown and frantically snapping photos before the sun set. I was too broke to do any shopping, but I collected heaps of tourist information on what I can do the next time I visit Munich, which is in 2 days if I don't get activated on standby tomorrow *crosses fingers* I'll be attending a concentration camp tour, then heading to Theresienwiese where Oktoberfest will be held on 22nd Sept. It really sucks to be going to Munich in Sept and missing Oktoberfest, but you can't have it all. I just hope the tents will be already up so I can take some photos.

The Church of Our Lady, Munich's most iconic landmark.

Viktualienmarkt, or victuals market. marketplace decreed by King Maximilian I in 1807

My roster for September has just been published, and it's a fantastic schedule except I'm not going home. I'm going to Dhaka, Frankfurt, London, Munich and Bangkok, on all accounts a superb schedule, but I'm really upset because I haven't got more than 2 days off in a row when I can fly home. I'm wondering what's the point of being based overseas now that I'm looking forward to returning to Singapore more than ever - ah, the money. I must try to keep that in mind the next time I feel like whinging.

Because calling Singapore from Abu Dhabi is so very expensive, I've taken to communicating with my family solely by e-mails. I'm very touched that my parents are taking the effort to write e-mails to me, they of the generation that associate e-mails with the office, work, programmes like Excel that doesn't make sense and all things nasty. My dad just sent me an e-mail saying that Ren's got her Australian internship with Pacific Food Industries, congratulations-but-why-am-I-not-hearing-from-you-firsthand! My mother is no better, sounding stilted as hell in her e-mails, but I love them so for making the effort.

There's no way I can retrieve my laptop until October, when I might get a Singapore flight if I'm lucky, or if I get enough days off together for me to fly back to Singapore. Until then, my online presence is solely dependent on the goodwill of my 2 fantastic friends P and J, what will I ever do in Abu Dhabi without them. Until the laptop returns, I'm afraid updates will be kept short and sweet like this, since the occupants of this building are mainly noobs who have zero ettiquette when it comes to computers installed for shared use.

Since the last post, I returned to Singapore via KL in a journey that lasted 20 hours, then reversed the process in an exhausting 24-hour journey back to Abu Dhabi. If I were less of a cheapskate I would simply fly from KL to Singapore and back, but I can't bear to pay S$200 one way when the coach ride from Pudu Raya to Singapore costs RM30. I left my laptop in Singapore because the service centre couldn't replace my faulty battery on such short notice (the battery lasted the whole of 1 month, cheers to laptops that cost $1099), therefore am deprived of Internet access until God knows when. I went on my first flight on the B777 to Bangkok, and spent USD200 in 24 hours - got myself a haircut, an absolutely rubbish massage, manicure and pedicure, heaps of rambutans, and a staggering amount of makeup. Immediately after the Bangkok flight I went to London Heathrow on the A330-200, spent money on frivolous items in Primark again, all the time wondering when I'll ever be as rich as the SQ girls who visit Harrods instead of Primark. Having just returned from London, I'm knackered and not making much sense, but returning to my apartment means facing the hurricane trail of distruction that I left in my wake when I threw all my possessions into my room and left for Kuala Lumpur, so I'm sitting determinedly in the lobby with the watchman and the maintanence guy who's on duty 24-7, because my building is so very old. Oh did I mention that this building has such a bad mold problem that people fall sick, and that my neighbours have kindly warned me of cockroaches, termites, and insects that bite you so bad you have to go to the doctor's. Slept in my room only twice since moving in on 2nd Aug, so I'll reserve judgment for later. I really want to live with Juliet and Pony, but their flatmate loves living with them as well, so I'm stuck in this old building for the moment. I miss being able to update the blog regularly and send weekly updates to my family, it makes me happy typing my epic e-mails although nobody replies. My daily e-mail exchanges with my nu-er has come to a stop because I can't reply, and it makes me sad because she was such a sporting friend who replied each epic e-mail with epic replies. I need to watch my spending because I've chalked up about S$500 on my credit card bill spending on I don't know what. My consolation is that I haven't been buying clothes at all, but heaps of other stuff that are semi necessities (things that I'll eventually need). This is such a crappy post I have half a mind not to publish. But only half a mind; the other half says I haven't updated my family and friends in such a long time I'd better post something here. I'll try to do better in the next post.

In Singapore, we can tell how rich people are by the cars parked outside their residences. In Abu Dhabi, people go by how big the boats are, or how many (boats). This picture was taken in the heart of Abu Dhabi city, prime property. This boat is considered medium-sized, along the same stretch I saw boats that were more dhows than boats, taking up a considerable amount of parking space.

Here's one of me in uniform, on the first day wearing the uniform on training. The hat is on wrong; it has to be tilted more to the right. I haven't managed to get a single decent full-length shot of myself in uniform, so that'll come later.


I had uploaded some photos to my Multiply site, and was going to edit the album and add more photos today when the 'Site Blocked' page appeared. Only yesterday I was happily browsing somebody's album on Multiply, today I logged on to find that it's now blocked. I'm not a very big fan of Multiply, but honestly, what are they going to block next, Friendster?


Since I can't upload my pictures onto Multiply, I'll just select a few and post them up here. I rushed for my camera late one night when the bus pulled up next to this cab that had photos on the rear. Assuming that those were pictures of the car owner, I took this photo to honour a fellow narcissist, all the while thinking how great it'd be putting my face on some car in future. Luckily, a friend who's lived in Dubai before gently told me that the men in the photos are the ruler of Dubai and ruler of Abu Dhabi respectively, and placing their photos on his car was the owner's show of respect to His Highnesses. Ah, well.



Here's a picture of the ditching exercise we held at the Emirates Training College in Dubai, a hugeass modern facility with super mockups. It's an indoor pool like Gulf Air's, but unlike how the pool is nice and warm in Gulf Air, the heating of the pool in Emirates Training College is absolutely useless because they keep it at 23degs, and I froze my ass off bobbing in the water for about 15mins.

I hate my hair.

It's only been 3 weeks since I left Singapore, but my bout of homesickness is stronger than ever before, so much I actually cried when I saw Ren's comment *sniff* I must be getting soft in old age, longing for the comforts of home and the familiarity of family and friends. Maybe it's because I have unfinished business back home, waiting to be resolved. My guess is that because I'm staying in such close contact with friends and family via e-mail, the longing to actually speak to them grows instead of abating. I want to be in Singapore when my friends ROM/graduate/get married/fall sick/feel down, I hate the feeling of not being there for people I care for.

I'm beginning to tire of my Deux ans de Vacances.

Mr DLink, like Singaporeans, ceased to function as well following lavish praise. Since my last post, the wireless connection in my room became erratic, and I was only able to connect to the Internet for no more than 5 minutes at a time. Oh well, it was good while it lasted.

I'm graduating next week on 2 Aug, thank God! Training is fading into a blur of exams, practicals and long boring lectures, I'd be glad when I start flying and leave all the fancy theory behind. While I'm really excited to be part of this spanking new company, Etihad is showing signs of strain at having taken in so many Gulf Air crew during the recruitment exercise.

Our housing situation is seriously quite shitty, with about a hundred of us living in hotels because the Etihad leased buildings intended for us are not ready yet. I have no idea when I'd be moving into my permanent accommodation, which is quite frustrating when half the items in my luggage was intended for household use (toilet brush, water dispenser, etc). My stuff is only semi-unpacked because I don't know when I'd be given notice to move, and there have been instances when girls got less than 4 hours notice to pack up and move.

There is also talk that existing Etihad crew are unhappy about the preferential treatment that ex-Gulf Air crew is getting. Our training is 4 weeks instead of 8, and Cabin Managers from Gulf Air join Etihad as managers without having to work through the ranks. As a result of the discontentment, the training in First and Business Class service that was intended as part of our accelerated course has been removed after the first 2 batches. This would be fine, if it didn't exist a vast difference in salary for those who are trained and those who aren't. It's almost SGD$400 difference per month can, how to let it go?!

It doesn't seem like we have much of a choice now; the company has the right to place us wherever they can, as long as it's decent living conditions. As for the service training, it's probably in the company's interest to pacify the greater majority of their existing crew. It sucks being a newbie! I can only take consolation in the fact that the new CEO of Gulf Air resigned after less than 6 months in office, so things aren't rosy either in the other camp. I need to start planning my exit..

For almost 2 weeks now, I sit by the window each time I want to use the Internet, struggling to get as near the window pane as possible so as to stand a better chance in stealing the wireless access from unsecured networks. There are times I simply cannot connect to any network, times when I get connected and disconnected periodically, generating much frustration if I'm in the middle of one of my epic e-mails. Just this morning, I had to shift in my chair every half an hour to try to connect to my elusive DLink (name of the host network that provides me with connection for the greatest length of time at any one stretch).

And yet, sitting on my bed in the middle of my hotel room, I'm now getting wireless signal that must be crystal clear because each page takes about 2 seconds to load. Gah.

That I'm stealing wireless network now makes me almost guilty for enabling password protection for the router back home in Singapore. Like, if everybody were as selfish and set passwords on their wireless router, then I won't be able to keep in touch with you guys back home. Maybe I'll have 'open days' on my router when I return to Singapore, disenabling the password feature so that some poor sod from Abu Dhabi can write to his family back home occasionally.

On a more exciting note, my first ever chequebook arrived via registered mail yesterday. Everybody has credit cards (or supplementary cards at least), but only parents keep chequebooks for...actually, what do people have chequebooks nowadays for? With Internet banking so easily available, there isn't any real need for chequebooks? No matter, it's good to know that if I ever lose alot of money in the casino, I can write a cheque to pay my debts (like how it happens in the movies). It's just exciting because owning a chequebook seems such a grownup thing to do. Wait, I already am grownup.

I just mentioned to Sharon, I'm quite upset to discover that the grasp of English grammar and vocabulary, like anything else, fades without practice. I use only so many English phrases at work (load the meals/is the coffee ready?/have you checked the lavatories? etc), and the fact that I'm Asian means that people don't expect me to speak good English, assuming that I'm Thai or from China. So with lowered expectations come lowered performance (it's true!), and now I find myself struggling to string a correct English sentence. The majority of cabin crew don't speak proper English, even angmohs who don't speak English as their first language, like the French, or those who come from Eastern Europe like Romania, Poland etc. As such, speaking broken English not only improves solidarity, it also makes me more easily understood. Talk about job hazards.

It's a very pleasurable thing, coming home to duper Internet access and reading all the replies to my epic e-mails. I think my weekend just got off to a perfect start :) Heading for Al-Ain tomorrow to see the Jebel Hafeet, a 1350m-high limestone mountain. Photos to be posted only if this duper connection keeps up. Thank you DLink *muacks*

Today was only the first day of actual training, and already I'm drained from having to separate all the new knowledge from old information. I was fortunate enough to get the most 'siao on' instructor, who insisted that everybody tried everything during our practical sessions as if we were in the real situation. It's not so bad having to learn everything from scratch, but to have to figure out in my mind what Etihad's version of the objective of first aid is while trying to obliterate what Gulf Air thinks is the objective of first aid positively sucks.

That, I realise, is the problem of starting over again. In all aspects of life, but especially when seeking out that special someone *coughbloodybitchcough* The enthusiasm when it was all new is gone, and you're left with lethargy and a deep sense of ennui. An excerpt from Milan Kundera's Unbearable Lightness of Being left a profound impact on me:

While people are fairly young and the musical composition of their lives is still in its opening bars, they can go about writing it together and exchange motifs, but if they meet when they are older, their musical compositions are more or less complete, and every motif, every object, every word means something different to each of them.

What, then?

如风

曲:张宇
词:林振强
编:tony a

有一个人 曾让我知道
寄生於世上 原是那么好
他的一双臂弯 令我没苦恼 他使我自豪

我跟那人 曾互勉倾诉
也跟他笑望 长夜变清早
可惜他必须要走 剩我共身影 长夜里拥抱

来又如风 离又如风 或世事通通不过是场梦
人在途中 人在时空 相识也许不过擦过梦中

来又如风 离又如风 (来又如风 去亦匆匆) 或我亦不应再这般心痛
但我不过 是人非梦 总有些真笑亦有真痛

让我心痛 独迎空洞 今天暖风吹过亦有点冻

Woohoo, my first comment on tagboard in a month! I must be turning popular again, quick drop me some messages, all of you! Sorry about the flooziness, getting free stuff (or in this case, using free Internet access) really floats my boat.

It's finally the weekend, whew! Just to recap, the weekend in this part of the world is Friday and Saturday, with absolutely everything closed on Friday so everybody can pray. It's been a long induction week, listening to everybody telling us how glad they are to welcome us into the Etihad family (most of them sound sincere, though it's still too early to tell), and going through the motions of joining a new company. To date, I've already submitted 18 copies of my passport photo, in addition to the 6 copies I submitted when I passed the interview; why would one single company want to see my face on so many different documents?

There are very strict laws governing Abu Dhabi, which really is a good thing. I need a liquor license, not only for the consumption, but also for the possession of alcohol. This means that, assuming I don't have a liquor license, if I purchase liquor in the duty-free shop (where I don't need a license) in the airport, but get pulled over by the police while on the crew bus heading to the operations building or back home, I'd be prosecuted for carrying alcohol illegally. Communications with the outside world is also restricted, unlike Bahrain where there are dozens of international calling cards available, so that I can call Singapore for next to nothing. Until 3 months ago, there was only 1 mobile service provider available in the UAE, Etisalat, owned by the government of course.

I received my allowance for the training period today, together with my crew ID. I'm proud to announce that I only bought 1 top for about SGD$15, although I only brought 5 tops and 5 bottoms to Abu Dhabi. I mean, honestly, how the hell am I going to survive on 5 sets of clothing when I'll be receiving my uniform only on 25th July! Ugh, not thinking again when I packed my bags. I'll think of something.

What happens when I finally get in touch with people whom I've lost contact with over the past few years, only to find that I don't have much in common with them anymore? Should I exit gracefully while the memory of how we used to click is still strong in both our minds, or should I hang around and wait for that connection again? Memories are most trecherous things - we probably never were that close to begin with, but as unpleasant incidents faded away with time and happy times magnified by faulty brain (mine), it seemed that I genuinely had a strong bond to return to. Now I chat on MSN and find myself touching on meaningless trival topics that are of no concern to either party. Ponder upon this, I shall.

TGIF, but I'm not going Dubai for the weekend. TGIF, but there's nobody to visit. TGIF, excuse me while I go do my washing by the river.

Abu Dhabi is a lovely city, much like Dubai. All shiny chrome buildings, heaps of greenery, and taxis cheaper than in Singapore. The cost of living, like groceries and stuff, is the same as in Bahrain, but because we're being put up in a hotel until God knows when, everything is more expensive and more difficult than it should be.

The biggest pain in the ass is that we don't have wireless connection in the hotel rooms, so we have only the rest of the girls for company. The connection I'm currently using is one PC in the crew room, shared among maybe 40 girls, all who have boyfriends and family back home they want to chat with. No cooking facilities available except 1 measly hotplate in the crew room, but I brought this Stylux travel cooker that came free with a magazine subscription that works like a dream, so all is good. We're frying vegetables and various chicken dishes using the travel cooker without any problems, so we're getting by. The other pain in the ass is the fact that there aren't any washing machines or dryers provided. This means I have been washing my clothes in the bathtub, and everytime I do that I feel like I'm one of those chicks in ancient chinese films doing their washing by the riverside. "阿里山的姑娘美如水呀,阿里山的少年壮如山唉..."

I must be older. Or maybe the novelty of going overseas and starting all over in a foreign company is wearing off. More likely it's because I don't have similarly excited friends who will snap photos of everything, just like me. Whatever the case, my first 3 days in Abu Dhabi were exceedingly normal, nothing out of the ordinary. I didn't take a zillion photos upon arrival, and I sure as hell am not heading out to clubs on my first weekend. Weekend's coming, and everybody's heading for Dubai before training starts (the first week's induction week, doing paperwork and all). Not my clique. Thank God I've got the 2 of them (although I miss you alot, Colleen)

P/S: I'm using a wireless network illegally at the moment, woohoo! Very excited about possibility of chatting online endlessly for free. Hope to post more and keep everybody posted about the national airline of Abu Dhabi. Which reminds me, Etihad has a super cool motto. "We will return the freedom to flight..." How lofty is that!

Everybody's already watched every show I want to watch when I return to Singapore. No matter, I will have a blast watching movies by myself at every major theatre in town. That Vivo place. Cathay. The rest of them.

In another 27 hours, I'd be boarding the plane bound for Singapore, which will take me away from this sorry excuse of a country forever. Strangely, I don't quite know how to feel. This wretched land was a letdown in many ways, but it was also here I learnt the most about myself, picked up skills I deem necessary in life, and met the most diverse set of people I'd ever have the privilege of meeting. Not all Indians are smelly, not all angmohs are smart, and there's so much decency to be found in the least expected places I want to weep.

22nd June - 5th July. I can't wait :)

I just completed my first and last rechecks with Gulf Air, a veritable waste of time because my last duty day is in 4 days' time on 9 June. This means I spent 4 days in Training School so that I can fly an additional 4 measly days for Gulf Air. To think I went to such great lengths to try save them some money by trying to opt out of the rechecks...Anyway, on 9 June I'll have flown for exactly one year. On 9 June 2006, I flew for the first time to Athens (GF 041) as crew, and I can still remember the taste of the bile in my throat as I became sick with apprehension the night before.

Looking back at this last year, I realised I lost interest in Gulf Air and grew sloppy pretty much like in all my previous jobs. Whether it was a frontline job like meeting clients when managing their events or a backend one like answering calls for DBS without ever meeting a single customer, invariably I gave up on the makeup and dressing up halfway through the duration of the employment. Of course this is not totally possible with Gulf Air, but in recent months I've been skimping on the makeup routine so much that I can get ready for a flight in 15 minutes flat, inclusive of nail polish (clear). Besides the fact that this 'can't-be-bothered' attitude reeks of unprofessionalism, at a fundamental level it points to a person who does not take pride in oneself.

My problem is, I cannot sustain interest in myself long enough to look good all the time. There are so many girls who are of the opinion that applying makeup before heading out (to anywhere) is merely good manners, and a courtesy nod to whomever you'd meet that day. I used to think that it was bollocks, but as I grow older and start to realise I look exceedingly like a hag without makeup, I have no choice but to agree. Having stated that, I'm ashamed to say these thoughts remain just as they are: thoughts, and instead of acting on them I constantly make excuses for my sorry behaviour. For example, I stopped wearing contact lenses onboard for about 6 months now, and to appear witty I tell everybody Gulf Air pays me too little to look chio. Obviously what I'm paid is besides the point, and if I'm really as narcissistic as I claim to be then I'd make greater effort in maintaining my image.

But! I'm sorry for falling to old habits, but I'm afraid I have to attribute this lack of concern for cosmetic appearances to Mother. Of course she was merely the influence; I have the honour of choosing to allow it to permeate my adult life. Mother was never the vain sort, and although she enjoys dressing up for events, these are rare occurences. There are maybe 5 times in a year she puts on makeup (other than for work), and dressy clothes were reserved for the poshest of occasions. She's never wore contact lenses other than for her wedding, nor has she ever coloured her hair. My mummy is the original Amish, and I love her to bits.

I guess it's also to do with the company I keep, and the lifestyle I choose. If I'm still hanging out as often with my Initial Training girls as before, undoubtedly I'd be spending much more time on dolling myself up and going out to party. But I'd still not be able to cook, I'd be busting my meagre salary on clubbing, taxi fares and booze - I'd be able to do up my eyes in a jiffy, but I'd not have grown in ways that matter.

Whatever the cause of my tardiness, I've resolved (as of today) to take greater care in maintaining my appearance. This includes trying to put makeup to make myself look presentable, to get used to wearing lenses since Etihad does not encourage the use of glasses onboard, and to stop trying to get ready to go out in 5 mins or less. It'd be a refreshing change to stop trying to fade into the background or cringe with embarassment whenever somebody stops to talk to me on the streets while I'm in my drab tshirt and crinkled pants.

I can't remember the last time I was this homesick. Everything I have in Bahrain is in boxes (ok, that's a big fat lie because much of what remains of my stuff is still carelessly strewn over every inch of carpet in my bedroom, but let's pretend in the spirit of being melodramatic), my fridge is almost empty due to an over-enthusiastic cleaning out of food last week, and I'm living without my creature comforts like my stuff toys and books and DVDs and photos plastered all over my walls. Of course I have nothing better to do than surf porn and get my jollies. It's a sad life.

Ying's in China (again), Ren's in Cambodia, and Mayday's in Singapore. Ugh, my 2 concert kakis are away, I'm stuck in sodding Bahrain, while my favourite band is holding their sellout [JUMP 離開地球表面] 新加坡演唱會 2007 concert today! About right now, actually.

In the last 2 weeks, in a bid to finish our stockpile of food in Bahrain, my flatmates and I embarked on a 'cook everything in sight' mission. For maybe 3 days we had fish, soup, and lots of pork (yippie!) every meal, and gained so much weight you won't believe. For me, that is. Because we were eating in everyday, our meagre stockpile of vegetables was depleted in no time, and I had to go grocery shopping for greens. Buying vegetables in Bahrain is the biggest nightmare ever, not only because of a dire lack of leafy greens. The greens available are mostly alien to me, so I end up buying only lady's finger, cauliflower because broccoli is crazy expensive, and lots of cabbage. It's like I'm how poor can, eating cabbage everyday!

Feeling this wretched, I can't help but miss home. Although I was in Singapore less than a month ago, that didn't count because I was recuperating from that freaky fever and didn't have time to properly enjoy my time there. I miss my family, the fact that eating out costs less than eating in, being able to go anywhere I want via public transport...all the things I griped about when I first arrived in Bahrain. What a strange feeling, regressing to how I felt right at the beginning. Further proof that it's time to move on.

Since the last post, I've made a dramatic recovery from the bout of fever I had (when I visited the GP in Bedok my temperature read 39.6deg. I mentioned this casually to Luke, and he replied "Alamak, brain damage! It'll bring your IQ 10 pts down to 50"), been to KL on duty for the first time since I started flying, attended 5 more driving lessons, made painfully slow progress in packing up my things, and by my own admission grew more rotund. The weighing scale says I've put on only 1 kg, but my face is visibly rounder, and there seems to be more handles all around. Serves me right for putting off the Oscillator and plain old skipping, making a full recovery from my frightful illness seemed to be such a good excuse for so long.

After I submitted the previous entry on May 4, I went to bed and woke up at 2am on May 5 to take my antibiotics. By this time my spectacular diarrhoea was taking a turn for the worse, and in desperation I visited the 24-hour clinic near my place. I was placed on drip to bring my fever down and to replace the fluids that I was losing due to the diarroea, and had my blood, urine and stool sample taken (Just to note, the stool sample bottle was quite an ingenous thing, this container with a little scoop so I could scoop the poop from the bowl, instead of trying to aim into a little container with a littler opening the time I was passing blood in my poop in Chiangmai). I waited 2 hours for the tests to be run, only to have the doctor tell me I had a viral infection, "that's all". He also told me my temperature will be see-sawing for another 3-5 days before abating. For God's sake, of course I had an infection, I didn't need my blood drawn and the humiliation of having to pee and poop into little containers for the doctor to tell me something I already knew. In exasperation, I flew back to Singapore for treatment when the freaking fever refused to subside. The fever went away quite miraculous after taking the prescribed medication for just one day. To be on the safe side, I took the fever medication for 1 more day before banishing it to storage. Bloody useless Bahraini doctors.

I returned to Bahrain on 12 May and promptly went back to Asia on a Kuala Lumpur flight, resting in KL for 82 hours. Elgin, who received notice about the trip but not the exact date in April, was unable to join me because the dates clashed with his graduation trip. To Bintan. With 5 University friends. All who live in Singapore. I've been going on about it for 1 month already, but honestly, how hard can it be to reschedule a trip with 5 other people who all reside in Singapore? His excuse was that some of them were going to US for Work and Travel, and he will not be seeing them for awhile. There're going overseas, while I already am overseas. For 1 freaking year. How can he justify the Bintan trip because he won't get to see them for 3 measly months, when I live in Bahrain and am in Singapore for only 2 days a month? Moreover, his most recent trip overseas was with his Uni mates as well, to Bangkok. The same Bangkok that he couldn't be bothered to book an air ticket for when I was there for New Year's Eve last year. All I asked was 3 days of his summer vacation, but he couldn't risk letting his friends down. Imagine my surprise when he went to watch a movie with the exact same people the day after returning from Bintan. Whatever happened to 'not seeing them for awhile'? I'm aware I'm being extremely petty, but as far as my logic is concerned he let me down big time. Evil piece of shit. Thankfully Father and Sister came up to KL for a visit, and we had great fun going around eating everything in sight.

On a happier note, I've made tremendous progress in my driving lessons. Just when I thought I was getting the hang of it, my instructor proceeded to reversing. I've spent the last 2 lessons laboriously reversing and driving forward without much success, and that's without the poles for parking. It's a race against time for me to finish the required 22 hours and pass my practical before I leave Bahrain, but I'll try my best anyway.

The packing has been a nightmare, and in my eagerness not to utilise the 100kg cargo allowance that I'm allocated for repatriation (nasty stories about how all sorts of things get stolen) I've been asking favours of everybody I know who has a Singapore-Sydney flight. I'd deposit bags in their suitcases, and Elgin will pick them up from the hotel. Elgin's been a good sport about all the hassle he has to go through, returning to Hotel Rendezvous every week to pick up my bits and pieces. But he's still evil shits.

I miss my family alot! After spending 2 days in KL with Father and Sister, I realised how much I missed going on vacation with my family (last trip was to Italy in 2005). I'm looking forward to our visit to Paris in June, more for the company than anything else. I have 5 days off before the Paris trip, and my flatmate quipped that I might as well go on ahead to Paris before my family joins me. Thing is, I'm too much of a scaredy-cat to try to navigate myself in a country where I cannot speak the language.

With regards to my weight gain, I'll try to do something about it. Case in point, I'm heading for the Oscillator the moment I submit the post. So there! :)

In conclusion, I end off my GP-style entry which starts with an introduction of everything I proceed to mention in the body. The end.