Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince

I have a new read!

Or rather, I had a new read. In a matter of hours, I polished off the entire Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince, which is only about three-quarters the thickness of Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix but no less a satisfying read. Actually, now that I think of it, Prince satisfied me much more than Phoenix did.

The adventure began Saturday morning, when I woke up at 11am to find that the precious hardback was waiting for me on my bedside table. A really pleasant surprise, considering that I had been ticked off severely by Mum for getting back after 3am the previous night and not answering my mobile in all that time. Well done, SingPost! And, despite having to bathe and get ready to go out and attend some work-related events immediately after getting up, I actually brought Prince out with me as I went about my events, snatching ten pages during each cab ride and more over my lunch of tom yam ban mian.

Won't say more about about the story, lest I spoil the experience for anyone. In fact, I'd already spoiled my pal Yannism's reading, mistakenly thinking that she had finished the book, and smsed her to ask what she thought about He/She/It-Who-Was-Killed-Off and the Person-Who-Had-Killed-He/She/It-Off. And she replied with a "Shit lah I haven't read abt [insert appropriate possessive noun-modifier] death yet." I'm so so so sorry. But Prince was a really good read.

Each book in the Harry Potter series gets progressively darker and plumbs ever-deeper depths of human cruelty, dark and murky alliances, confunding allegiances, ambition and hubris. Yet, through it all, Rowling keeps a thread of hope running, whether it be love that is strong enough to sacrifice all, loyalty that inspires one's friends to stand alongside oneself even in the most deadly of dangers, or that even those on the side of evil have the capacity to love and care.

It doesn't seem like the Hogwarts boarding school setting for the series will endure for long after Prince, and although that was one very appealing factor in my massive enjoyment of the series, I do look very much forward to Rowling's next instalment. Till then, I must re-read over and over again the entire series, and find other books and authors to occupy my free time with.

NKF aftermath

And so the backlash has begun. In fact, I'm late to be blogging about this now.

Just watched the news. An NKF Donor Relations staff was recounting how a particular donor had insisted, no, demanded, that his $12 donation be refunded to him there and then, on the spot, despite one of the staff explaining that the refund could only take place through other channels. And so, that particular staff brought out her wallet, fished out $12 and gave it to the man.

That few seconds of coverage made me cry and I don't know which is sadder.

That the frontline NKF staff who have to bear the brunt of massive public displeasure, such as the unfortunate employee in the above incident;

Or that ordinary working class Singaporeans who work long and hard for their money, yet willingly donate regularly to NKF to support kidney patients, have been driven mad enough to withdraw their support in such a brusque way;

Or that such a hugely successful charitable organisation has been brought to its knees, after so many years of good work.

I think many of us grew up watching the NKF fund-raising shows and year after year, I never fail to be touched by first-hand accounts from the kidney patients. This year, for the NKF-Cancer fund-raising project, I heard over the radio stations this woman talking about how, because of cancer, she had to sell her flat for over a hundred thousand. She spoke matter-of-factly of how she'd never seen so much money in her life before, and of how a mere four months later, the money was all gone. Then, she mused, "Long before the illness kills you off, worrying about the financial burden will already have finished you."

It's important to give, one way or another. Really, what amounts to just a little on one person's part can build up to a massive lot when everybody contributes, and it really goes a long way towards helping whoever is in need. I interviewed a wonderful lady recently, who, at the very young age of 18, donated bone marrow to a leukaemia patient. It's been ten years and the transplant patient is still alive, very much a healthy and dynamic man. All because of an operation that was 'little more than a blood test', and the blessed courage of a very wonderful and inspirational young teenager who, until now, thinks of what she did as 'no big deal'.

I believe that most of us give because we want to help, simple as that. Even if we don't wish to donate to NKF any longer, do continue to give to other worthy charities, other people who need help.

Assorted musings

Non-profit organisations in Singapore

Seems like they're going to the pits.
I don't begrudge TT Durai his $25,000 a month salary. It may seem grossly excessive for a non-profit org, but how else will they be able to get quality management if they can't offer salaries on par with those in the private sector? Of course, this necessarily begs the question of whether management calibre equal to that in the private sector is needed for the NKF to function, but that's not the main point here. What most people take offense to is the revelation that Durai is paid a grossly handsome 10-to-12 month bonus.

Excuse me, but I always thought, with my limited working experience, that bonuses are usually pegged to the profits earned by a company in a financial year? And supposedly non-profit orgs have some other way of compensating their employees for this, such as the civil service, which dispenses one-month bonuses? Maybe I'm ignorant for even asking this, but do the management at corporate giants like SIA, Venture Corp, HP or Philips get paid such big bonuses?

Seems deplorable and infinitely disgusting that it takes 60,000 ordinary working folks like me and most everyone else to donate 10 bucks each, before we finish paying off Durai's salary. Then who knows how many hundreds of thousands of us must continue to pay 10 bucks each again, before we finish paying off the rest of the NKF staff's salaries and our money finally starts reaching those who really need it.

What really irked me were the comments made by a certain prominent lady NKF patron, also the wife of a certain local political luminary. In today's TNP, she was reported to have said, "What does SPH have to gain from this lawsuit?" Well excuse me, duh, NKF brought the lawsuit against SPH, not the other way round. What a freaking idiotic comment to ask. Another comment she reportedly made was something to the effect that all NKF wanted to achieve with the lawsuit was for SPH to retract certain defamatory paragraphs that gave readers erroneous impressions, and why did SPH have to blow up the whole matter into one of NKF's transparency. My gawd, that's an even more stupid comment. If NKF had done nothing wrong and was above board in all its conduct and dealings, then what did it matter even if SPH had pursued the issue of its transparency during the suit?

Madam, you're probably one of the precious few left in Singapore who continue to have steadfast trust in NKF. Most of the rest of the people must be furious, and who can blame them? First the blardy PTC approved the public transport service providers' requests to raise the fares of public transport, when the standards and quality of service had dropped so awfully that you have to wait at least 15 minutes for a feeder bus during peak hours; then the cab companies decide to raise peak hour flag-down rates from $2.40 to $4.00, when their rogue drivers cause accidents and deaths with their hooliganish and fucking dangerous driving. Then such a high-profile misuse of public donations at one of Singapore's most iconic charity organisations. Add on to this the fact that year after year we are told to bear with higher taxes and low or non-increasing salaries and bonuses because of the lousy economy. No wonder Singaporeans are getting so cynical and dispassionate about our country. I'm starting to pine after the kangaroos and didgeridoos in Oz myself, sheesh.


Face/Off the MediaCorp way

MediaCorp Press, okay, TODAY, ran an interesting article today, a departure from its usual competent but fairly run-of-the-mill editorial. Nothing intellectual, mostly good fun, but quite cute and attention-grabbing, an interesting twist on the Project Superstar saga on Channel U.

Instead of profiling the latest finalists to make it through to the next round, they zeroed in on deciphering the puzzling technical terms proffered by the judges, especially Lee Wei Song and Xu Huan Liang. Namely, 'head voice', 'chest voice' 'qi yin', 'groove' and a whole host of others. Of course, coming from a choral background though not at all distinguished myself, these terms are rather simplistic and basic but I have realised that many audience members are unaware of their meanings.

At home, my parents badger me about what the terms mean and I don't know how to explain to them, especially to a father who is so utterly tone-deaf and music-averse that back in primary school he'd rather fail music than to sing the school song in front of the teacher. At work, when my colleagues gossip about the show, their favourite topic aside from bashing a particularly showy and irritatingly 'fake'female contestant, is inadvertently the judges' comments. And sure enough, when I ask them what they didn't understand, they always say 'head voice', 'nasal' and the likes of which the judges like to bombard the contestants with.

My verdict: A fun, light-hearted read to perk up your mornings. Could have done with more examples, but excellent still! A good lesson for me in what my editor always says about putting a fresh new spin on an old topic.

Then later at night, I was watching this new Channel 8 drama starring Michelle Cheah, Joanne Peh, Huang Wen Yong, Ix Shen and others. Michelle's character was so utterly boring and 2-dimensional that you wonder if she was still under instructions to reprise her absolutely infamous and horrible Turn-Back-The-Clock Lux advertisement. Ix was cast in the same mould and that's no surprise, since his acting chops are solely in his delectable body and abs. Too bad he walks around in a dumpy polo tee and berms most of the time in the show. Seems like MediaCorp also likes to build in these slightly idiot-esque characters in their latest shows, such as Mo Jing Jing (Jeanette Aw) in He Lan Cun, then Pierre Png's character in Tong Xin Yuan and now, Ix Shen in this new show. I think it's a curse. I think they end up looking and speaking like idiots even after filming, just look at Jeanette Aw in the Soo Kee ads.

One of the things I can't stand about the show is that it later pairs Michelle with Wen Yong, brrrrrr, what a gross pairing. I mean, when he made his TV debut in Wu Suo Nan Yang way way back, Michelle was probably still in Pampers and bottle-feeding. Talk about mismatch. Yuck.

And then, the storyline seems vaguely reminiscent of Korean dramas. Girl's parents die in her childhood, girl is brought up by a foster family, brothers in the foster family fall in love with her, yadah yadah... So, the only way to get out of this is to make her fall in love with some other guy right? So in comes Tay Ping Hui. Or so I guess lah. What do I know right, maybe it turns out to be a blockbuster that will be screened in the whole of China at 3am in the mornings.

Never mind. I'm no expert on the broadcast media. Would any media research executives like to comment?

Sky high one moment, deepest of pits the next

How does it feel to be London?
Soaring with beer-soaked elation after being awarded the 2012 Olympics, then brought crashing down the next day to the grim horrors of bomb blasts orchestrated by terrorist groups?

I've always been a bit of a Brit-o-phile from young.

I devoured Enid Blyton books and fed off the adventures of The Naughtiest Girl In School, wandered around the different magical worlds that arrived every so often at the top of The Magic Far-away Tree, and imagined myself embroiled in the Famous Five's numerous thrill-chasers. Through Enid Blyton's descriptions of hot buttery scones and crumpets, strawberries and clotted cream, savoury mince pies with nuggets of hard-boiled eggs and ham, I began my lasting fascination with literary food descriptions. Because of Enid Blyton, I learnt about pixies, fairies, gnomes and brownies.

One of the childhood games I remember playing was that in which two people held each other's hands high up while singing "London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling. London bridge is falling down, my fair lady", as others walked through that 'bridge' in procession. The point of the game was to move fast and avoid being the one to be right under the 'bridge' when the song ended, as the party would then be forced to do a penalty. Pointless, yeah, but from then on, 'London bridge' was stuck in my mind.

Then there was Mr Bean and his slapstick TV antics that had me in stitches week after week, before I moved on to appreciating more verbal wit than visual camp. Nevertheless, that precious little vintage Minnie came to be one of my all-time favourite cars.

In JC, I went on a Europe competition tour with the college choir. We spent a few days each in Polheim (Germany), London and Paris, and that stopover in London was like a childhood dream come true. We visited the River Thames and, naturally, got to see London Bridge. Plus other more nightmarish stuff like the Tower of London, which I'd already read about in my one-time favourite book on supernatural happenings, complete with illustrations. Perhaps it was my prior knowledge of the Tower's bloodied history, but in broad daylight and surrounded by so many people, I still felt massively chilled just looking at it, as everything that I had read rushed back to my mind in a flood of vivid details.

We braved pigeon droppings on Trafalgar Square, dined on overpriced but delicious Italian (10 freaking pounds for a pizza! okay, I know it's normal for them but it was a fortune to an 18-year-old student) in a cosy little roadside restaurant, ventured into Covent Garden where Brit couples snogged as we stuffed ourselves with hotdogs from street vendors and gawked at glitzy British High Street stores (then unavailable here).

Like many Londoners, we got around by the Tube and I finally made my acquaintance with familiar Monopoly names like "King's Cross Station" and "Liverpool Street Station". The stations were nothing to crow about; they were old, dirty and often dinghy. The trains were rather narrow and I remember thinking that our own MRT was much more comfortable. We were warned also that it could be dangerous at night and that punks and louts were common. Still, there was something vastly magical about having childhood icons come to life and I treasured the experience very much. That, or maybe I was just a sentimental idiot.

Later on, at Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum, while searching for something to buy Pangy, who had not gone on the trip with us, I chanced upon a lovely deck of playing cards which were illustrated with a mini-map of the London underground system in bright red and yellow. I thought it would be nice to get him something I myself would love to receive, and bought it for him. And now, these very stations and train lines lie in a mangled wreck of metal pieces, assorted body parts and mundane everyday artefacts that belong to the passengers.

I keep asking, Why? Take away all religious and political motivations, strip the catastrophe down to its barest, most basic digits, and what we are looking at is life, human life, each one of which is linked intimately and richly with countless others. Take away one and watch as endless waves of shock and grief ripple outwards.

It's horrible.
I would not presume, with my ultra-superficial, shortlived and limited claim on London's pulse, to mouth any platitudes of grief. I can only add on my condolences, however unhelpful, to that from the rest of the world, and hope that the perpetrators will die a most horrible death.

Bungled attempt

to rehaul this dusty blog, that is.

Have incorporated the most essential features, but have not managed to get rid of that annoying little bar at the bottom which says "width="1012" height="573" border="0". Man, something must gone screwy with the darn html. No idea how to get rid of it. Sigh.

It's been a while...

and I don't feel that good today.

Aside from the mgiraine, I feel uncertain and insecure about myself, my capabilities, what I want from life, and more.

Tired of earning a pittance, meeting snooty contemporaries, shamefully asking for the sky from certain 'suppliers' on the most modest of budgets because of company constraints, and more.

Fed up at desperate PR companies who call up 5 times to ask if I'm going to an event, then keep cajoling and pleading for me to go when I say I can only stay for a while as I have another event to attend, because they're "scared that nobody'll be around to finish the lunch."

But never mind. Did some research for an upcoming article and found that sometimes when people feel unhappy or superficially depressed, they make a list of the things that make them happy. And running through that list brings to mind fond memories and delightful associations, thereby righting their foul moods. So here goes:

My favourite things


1. Fun dinner with friends, where we can be our most unglamorous selves and yet have the most fun

2. A nice evening in with family, exchanging family gossip and childhood escapades over Mum's dishes

3. After-meal dessert of durian, mango, chendol and some nice cheescake

4. Playing Ninja Turtle on PS2 with boyfriend

5. Boyfriend teaching me to play various self-invented card games

6. A well-written article

7. Going to Holland Village for lunch and eating fried fish bee hoon

8. Many new books lying before me waiting to be read

9. Re-reading a favourite book, like Goblet of Fire

10. Renting a DVD to watch together with the boyfriend on his Powerbook

11. Snapping up a great new book/top/skirt/pant/belt/scarf/jacket. Better still if at rock-bottom prices

12. Getting new freelance assignments as it's an external affirmation of my abilities, hopefully, and not because I'm cheap

13. An exhilirating and scenic run around the reservoir, with an endorphine rush thereafter. Though I'm fully aware most people hate running

14. A fantastic meal the likes of kway chup near Pangy's place (but which now seems to be under reconstruction), steak at Angus House, Italian at Spizzico, Japanese at Japanese Dining Sun and Megumi, beef noodles and BBQ chicken at the coffeeshop near my house, dim sum buffet at Tung Lok Seafood Gallery at East Coast, durian pengat at Merchant Court's Ellenborough Market, Penang fried kway teow in Malaysia, BBQ sambal seafood at Circuit Road Food Centre, and many others. Yummy...

15. Walking along the beach when it's nicely windy yet slightly sunny, with a brilliant blue sky overhead and swaying palm trees. Can almost make believe you're on vacation. Thrown in a bicycle, a pond, and some bread to feed the fish in the pond and voila! Heaven, it is...

16. The joy of a newly cleaned-up and de-cluttered room/cupboard/wardrobe/table, although with me, the state of cleanliness never lasts long

17. Having friends over to stay the night, or everyone congregating at a chalet or someone else's house, and passing time playing Bluff and assorted lame games

18. The thrill of doing mass dance year after year despite having left college for so many years. Sounds a tad cryptic, this, hmm..

19. Boyfriend, plain and simple. Though he makes me so mad at times though..

Okay, I'm getting hungry. But 19 things that make me happy ain't too bad for a start.
What makes you happy?