Last Sunday, it was a story on Singaporeans’ sloppy sense of dressing style; this week, it’s a story on how Singaporeans hog electrical sockets at fast food chains, the drop in swimming standards among young swimmers and “If Google is making us stupid”. (By Jeremy Au Yong, Straits Times Life section, 12 July 2008. Based on original article by Nicolas Carr.

Put these together, and we sure sound like a bunch of lackadaisical, materialistic, disgruntled and complacent people.

For a country that wants to play host to international events like the F1 and the Youth Olympics, maintain a strong, righteous political reputation and balance the needs of its citizens with that of its macro goals, the fundamentals of its human fabric seems to be lagging far behind.

Excuses are given for the lack of social decorum. The Internet has contributed vastly to media liberalisation, variety programmes on local free-to-air and cable television offer plenty of style and dress tips, yet we have not appropriated such information to our presentation and would rather attribute it to the weather and geographical position of our country. It’s as if if the reason is something bigger and beyond our control, we are much more consoled into justifying our carelessness. (”I can’t help dressing like that because it’s too hot to wear anything else.”)

Hmm..even to the Esplanade Theatre?

It isn’t even about being the most fashionable, or the most glamorous city, because if we are not strong on the basics of dressing appropriately, it is unlikely that we’ll find the Paris or Milan styles localised. Perhaps some might find this rather prejudiced, because my profession enables me to receive expert advice on wardrobe pairings so it is easier said, but I have also seen many young people who make an effort, and have better sense of style than I do.

That is not to encourage willful and hefty spendings on fashion items because I do not advocate meretricious purchases. Beyond the embarrassing and somewhat superficial discussion on dressing, it is fundamentally about respect and social behaviour, not creativity or fashion idealism.

Then there’s the hogging of electrical sockets at public places. I can understand the need for study/discussion space away from office and home, but I am appalled to read that there are patrons who ignore the requests of others to share. Are we breeding citizens with pinhole perspectives who only care about themselves and what is convenient to them? Anything that requires circumvention or sacrifice is slapped with unhappiness, discontent and complaint?

But wait, it is not all that bleak. The idea that there’s a drop in swimming standards seem to suggest that there was a time it was at its peak.

Perhaps the objective of the NASSA test is flawed, because excelling in survival skills in the swimming pool does not equate to swimming proficiency, but excelling in swimming proficiency would mean the basic survival skills (to cope with swimming pool conditions at least) are in place.

After all, you can’t blame the candidates for merely meeting the requirements of the test while neglecting the proficiency aspect, because no one told them right?

And if you’ve actually made it this far with my arbitrary article, I guess there is a fallacy in Nicholas Carr’s argument.

Having attended Peranakan beading class in preparation for “Little Nonya”, it somewhat stimulated my interest in needlework. I wouldn’t say it was a pastime left in the cold, because frankly, I never started. So in my attempt to compensate my lack of talent in holding needles and putting them through fabric (so that I won’t look too clumsy in the drama), I picked up a cross-stitch which I left aside uncompleted 9 months ago, and spent 2-3 hours every night practising my stitches. It’s different from beading of course, but at least I make peace with the needle.

Lo and behold! I’m now addicted to not just cross-stitching, but also crochet and patchwork. Some time back, I put up a post featuring my first attempt at crochet, I was so displeased with it, I decided to pull the knots out and start from scratch. I want to make sure I get my stitches neat and nice. This is the most boring part, because you don’t see anything materialise other than rows and rows of stitches, but I guess the quality of stitching is important to me, especially since I am learning from scratch. Without good basics, I probably won’t go very far with the crochet projects.

As with picking up any new skill, we got to learn to crawl before we can run.

So I began with single crochet + turning chain, which will give you a flat rectangular piece like the one below. Depending on the number of chains, the size of the piece will differ.

Now at least this looks decent.

I had to pull out the piece five or six times because upon closer inspection, the knots were not uniformed. Sometimes the needle had caught stray fibres, or went into wrong spaces without my realisation, so it wasn’t a nice flat consistent piece.

My mother has passed my single crochet.

Next, I’d be learning half double crochet and double crochet.

Theme: “Heartbroken”

Movies to watch:

Love is never absent.

If you notice the novel you’re reading, the song you’re listening, the movie you’re watching, it’s there.

Since it’s so prevalent in the creative works around us, I am puzzled when anyone says love is secondary. It seems that the very act of undermining its importance is the erection of a bulwark against lonliness and fear of distraction or maybe even a consolation for its absence.

The theme of “being heartbroken” is greatly explored in “My Blueberry Nights”, (although I must say with all the close-up shots of the blueberry pie and melted ice-cream, it’s definitely putting me off blueberry pie for some time), and it’s interesting that all the characters come together in the movie binded by this same emotion, while being trapped in their own circumstances.

It’s like stepping into quicksand, the more you struggle, the deeper and faster you sink, yet even if you cease moving, you’re neither saved nor safe.

Is being heart-broken the result of too much love, or reliance?

Recently I attended MediaCorp New Awards at Swissotel and was deeply reminded of those years in journalism school a couple of years back. The relentless pursuit of scoops, intimate probings of interviewees, all with the ultimate aim of making it THE STORY.

Why was it so important? To inform and educate our citizens? To influence government policy? To change the world? Sure, those were the ideals that accompanied me through my undergraduate years, but in retrospect, they do sound a tad too noble. That does not mean I undermine the important role journalists play in our lives, because I was one of those who unanimously nodded when Chairman Mr Ho Kwon Ping said news-makers work long hours and get very little pay. So I derive that anyone who is overworked and underpaid must have a reason for accepting this sort of fate.

At the back of my head, passion was beckoning me.

Passion fuels the work you do and oils the desire to improve to get better at what you’re doing. It’s less about slipping into the monotony of assignments and deadlines, doing what is required and more about adopting a broader and more constructive perspective that is both enriching for self and inspiring for others.

Beyond the glitz and glamour of the awards that night, I found an important catalyst for self-progress.

If there were no boundaries marked out by Man, will we still get a sense of space?

Everything falls into its own place even if Man doesn’t move them.

We all fit somewhere.

Sometimes, you need imperfections to work more effectively.

When two things come together, something will always be left out.

When you focus only on one thing, you lose detail on others.

Having the best tool but no knowledge of use is just as futile.

There is a bigger and brighter world beyond one’s solitary existence.

Everything has its purpose.

Photographs taken at Marina Bay Driving Range.

I make people mull at their misfortune, or wallow in self-pity. Because of me, they feel that they’d been treated fairly, or that they don’t deserve whatever administration given. Sometimes, I stir up your emotions, so that it will consume logic and mess up your mind. I make you see what you want to see and anyone who tries to hurt me will make you get bitter and angry. I will only get stronger as you grow older, because there’s more you stand to lose if I’m gone. Yet as you keep me by your side, you become increasingly disillusioned, thinking you are making progress when you are merely marching on the same spot.

Who am I?

The name is Pride.

Lately, you might noticed I haven’t posted much writing, sharing relatively more on my culinary pursuits. Well, I’ve stopped reading and writing for a while, because I think all those dark plots are messing up my mind a little. I have a question for everything I read and watch, which subsequently leads to more questions and then I end up with a hyper-active brain. Not good because I get all emotional over issues that aren’t even real!

Geez, welcome to the world of fiction.

Dessert Menu

• Raspberries Strawberries Yoghurt Ice Pops

Rhubarb is quite a favourite in Australia, but since I can’t find it here, I replaced them with strawberries instead.

This is a healthy and not-to-sweet dessert, something you’d like on a hot afternoon!

Dinner Menu

• Japanese Cold Noodles with Pan-fried Chicken Breast

Domestic-Goddess-Wannabe is one step closer to making yummy, healthy food.

How does this look?