Ok, maybe I’ve been thinking too much, but don’t you see the similarities between the two bands? They both hail from the British isles, formed the ‘traditional’ way (ie: not manufactured), are primarily guitar-driven, have charismatic lead singers, give wicked live performances and can arguably stake claim to the title of the World’s Biggest Rock Band.
But things run deeper still. Both released amazing rock albums (U2’s Joshua Tree and Radiohead’s The Bends) that cemented their signature sound, then felt the need to re-examine themselves in light of the success and adulation that followed. What happened next divides them from the huge list of also-rans and wannabes in the music industry – they showed the world what they were really capable of when the pressure was on.
Both bands threw aside their rock roots and embraced synthesized sound, and in so doing produced what are considered their seminal albums – Achtung Baby and Ok Computer (yes, I know Rattle & Hum is in there with some brilliant songs, but I don’t really count it among their full albums), redefining in the process our perception of what a pop/rock album is.
And from there things get even stranger. The following two releases from each group delved deeper into electronica, confounding critics and alienating traditional fans. Zooropa/Pop and Kid A/Amnesiac could be seen as the culmination of experimentation the bands felt they had to go through with, to truly discover who they were.
Coming out of this soul-searching period, they produced what were 'back-to-roots' releases – All That You Can’t Leave Behind and Hail To The Thief – yet one could tell that they were irreversibly changed. Both were received with a huge sigh of relief from most camps.
And now U2 has a new album in the stores, similar in concept to the last, but so forthright and earnest, one can even detect strains from the early Boy-War days. I’d say they’re now more comfortable with themselves musically than they ever have been. Bono’s voice, while sounding hoarse at times, rings so clear emotionally you’d forgive him just about anything. And the Edge is back at what he does best – influencing the mood and texture of a song with microdynamics, instead of big chord changes.
What then for Radiohead? They were always more off-centre, more abstract, more willing to take the bigger risk not just with sound but song structure. Their lyrics tackled personal neuroses as opposed to U2’s big issues. And Thom Yorke is far more introspective than larger-than-life Bono. Genius or paranoid android? In my opinion both are crucial to Radiohead’s music, and are almost inter-dependent. Instead of hiding them, Yorke has let his eccentricities drive the tone of the band, resulting in pure honesty. And that, like what U2 has done in their own way, is what good music is about.
Thursday, 2 December 2004
Tuesday, 9 November 2004
Ass-mar
If anyone remembers Piggy, Jack who can sing C#, Ralph, and the conch, you'll know what I'm talking about.
My baby's got it. Weep buckets. No, actually it's not all that bad. I guess. Wipe tears. I just have to get used to it. Sniffle. This has been the second attack in two months (see Retraction) and I desperately dread another panicked drive down to KKH in the middle of the night.
This time they let us take her home, although they would have preferred to ward her. But we must have seemed sane and safe enough to be entrusted with the task of dosing her every interval with the syrups and inhaler+aerochamber (got cute bear picture somemore). Thanks be to God, she's gotten over it in a shorter time than before, getting in her daily naps, with no other sick kiddies around to contract worse things from.
But we've now made an appointment to see the bestest seniorest specialistest consultant in Singapore (at least I think so) and I'm not going to come away with anything less than the latest most wonderful arsenal of whatever it takes to beat down another attack before it even starts.
Baby's variant appears to be viral triggered, so that'll mean avoiding any sickiness. Tell me about it - this episode erupted thanks to non-thinking relatives bringing a sick child to MIL's birthday dinner. What d'you expect! It's been a week of near heart attacks for me, but they're back to apparent normality again. So I've bought myself a new foundation. Maybelline's Wonder Finish (no la, cannot afford Chanel anymore). What to do. Still must live, right?
BTW with all that talk flying about local blogs merely recording boring personal trivia and contributing nothing to political awareness, well, this is MY blog so I get to say whatever I want on it. And right now, all I really want to say is "Sucks to your ass-mar!!!" (Baby, I mean that in a good way ok, targetting the condition, not you, ok? *hug-bug*)
My baby's got it. Weep buckets. No, actually it's not all that bad. I guess. Wipe tears. I just have to get used to it. Sniffle. This has been the second attack in two months (see Retraction) and I desperately dread another panicked drive down to KKH in the middle of the night.
This time they let us take her home, although they would have preferred to ward her. But we must have seemed sane and safe enough to be entrusted with the task of dosing her every interval with the syrups and inhaler+aerochamber (got cute bear picture somemore). Thanks be to God, she's gotten over it in a shorter time than before, getting in her daily naps, with no other sick kiddies around to contract worse things from.
But we've now made an appointment to see the bestest seniorest specialistest consultant in Singapore (at least I think so) and I'm not going to come away with anything less than the latest most wonderful arsenal of whatever it takes to beat down another attack before it even starts.
Baby's variant appears to be viral triggered, so that'll mean avoiding any sickiness. Tell me about it - this episode erupted thanks to non-thinking relatives bringing a sick child to MIL's birthday dinner. What d'you expect! It's been a week of near heart attacks for me, but they're back to apparent normality again. So I've bought myself a new foundation. Maybelline's Wonder Finish (no la, cannot afford Chanel anymore). What to do. Still must live, right?
BTW with all that talk flying about local blogs merely recording boring personal trivia and contributing nothing to political awareness, well, this is MY blog so I get to say whatever I want on it. And right now, all I really want to say is "Sucks to your ass-mar!!!" (Baby, I mean that in a good way ok, targetting the condition, not you, ok? *hug-bug*)
Friday, 29 October 2004
Review: Peugeot 407
The power of marketing is indisputable. Advertisements create previously unrecognised needs as much as they reinforce awareness. And regardless of a product’s actual merits, a slick campaign (with a little help from cool styling) can be essential to creating that elusive ‘want one’ factor.
Take Peugeot for example. Never sold well in Singapore, but they’re still sponsoring prime TV shows like the recently-departed Friends. And with excellent ads too – who can forget for instance, the Tata being beaten into a 206 look-alike by its proud owner? And now the 407 is being featured in the new ‘Playtime is over’ series, again banking mostly on the car’s striking looks to instil automotive lust into viewers’ hearts. The question must be asked though: Is it any good under the skin?
There’s no denying the feline shape is distinctive. A snout this long hasn’t been seen on a new car in ages, but get used to it. Because firstly, increasingly-stringent pedestrian impact laws will necessitate space between bonnet/bumper and engine; and next, Peugeot actually makes it look good, without enlarging the rest of the proportions in the name of ‘visual balance’.
How is it done? Well, the windscreen is so steeply raked that the driving position has to be pushed way back to prevent decapitation upon entry/exit. The entire glasshouse is also pulled forward to mask the front immense overhang. Unfortunately, the combination of these two factors results in a squashed cabin. As can be seen from other recent examples, a cab-forward stance does liberate cabin space, but it all goes to the useless area between windscreen and dashboard, instead of truly benefiting passengers.
A car with a 2725mm wheelbase should be a lot more spacious than this – as it is, the Peugeot struggles to better a Civic for rear legroom, compounded by the limited foot space under the front seats. The driver has it better, with both room and a wide range of seat/steering wheel adjustments to ensure decent comfort.
Another shocker comes after figuring out how to open the boot – there are no obvious buttons or latches anywhere, and the secret lies in a button hidden in the numbered badge, very nifty – you are greeted with a truly unforgivable 407 litre space. Never mind that it is well shaped or conceals a full-sized spare – it is a full 160 litres or 30% smaller than a Camry’s. That difference alone is larger than a Mini’s total boot capacity.
And what’s with the dreadful 206-standard materials on the dash, wiper stalks and door handles? Even the roof lining flexes when you push the interior light buttons. This is a 2.0l vehicle, for goodness’ sake! Cars from the class below would be ashamed to be clad with such grades of plastics nowadays. Arch-rival Renault has on the other hand really upped their game in this respect, taking the fight right to Volkswagen, the benchmark when it comes to interior trim.
Disappointments continue when you continue to look around the cabin. The passenger glovebox is close to astonishingly tiny, due to the fuse box that takes up half the space. Also, the lever to open the bonnet also resides on the passenger side, making it inconvenient to do simple oil checks. Both I suspect are due to poor planning for RHD conversion, seeing that the UK is probably Peugeot’s only major RHD market.
Two versions are brought in, with 2.0l and 2.2l engines. In addition to a larger displacement the latter also adds 17” rims (compared with 16”), dual zone climate control, chrome accents on the rubbing strips, rear armrest, as well as rain, light and tyre pressure sensors. All for an $8,000 premium over the 2.0litre’s $107,900 price tag. Electric front seats can also be specified in the larger-engined car, for another $2,000.
We tested the 138bhp 2.0 litre, partly because of the SE’s assertion that there isn’t much difference between the two engines, and partly due to the rain outside, which would have negated any power advantage.
It’s never a good sign when a salesperson makes excuses for a product before you have commented on it, but this was precisely what happened here. The engine’s low-ish power was explained as being offset by high torque, which is stretching the truth somewhat. 190Nm is no better than class average, and while perfectly tractable when cruising around, the entire performance of the engine is really nothing worth shouting about.
The four-speed auto gearbox allows for Tiptronic-style manual shifts, which is how you will use it to get anywhere in a hurry. Because its regular brain is simply too indecisive to deal with anything between the laziest and most manic throttle inputs. Decide that you want to go two notches faster, and it stays in the same gear for a while, hesitates, then decides to shift down. By which time any window of opportunity for overtaking has long gone.
The steering is not too bad, light and responsive. And turning into a corner proves to be a fuss-free experience, the chassis providing a fair amount of precision to do what you ask of it. It’s a pity the wet roads prevented us from exploring its dynamic capabilities further, but I really wonder how that would change my mind about the car as a whole.
I’m still quite perplexed as to how much has been sacrificed in the name of style. It’s like Peugeot spent all their money on good stylists and forgot about the basics.
Now, if I really needed to spend this kind of money on a car, and put driving pleasure at a premium, I’d look straight at the Alfa Romeo 156 JTS – equally cramped, but with a really special engine, cabin and driving experience.
But perhaps the most damning thing I can do is to compare the 407 with Renault’s Megane, another Gallic offering that costs $25,000 less, and should be in the class below. Sure, the Megane is 17% down on power in theory, but in the real world it’s hardly noticeable. What’s more, it matches or even betters the Peugeot in most of the crucial areas, including space, quality, safety, ride comfort and gadget count. One would be daft not to consider the extraordinary value that one offers over the other.
Playtime is indeed over. Peugeot needs to get serious if they want to sell on more than just good looks and a nice slogan.
Take Peugeot for example. Never sold well in Singapore, but they’re still sponsoring prime TV shows like the recently-departed Friends. And with excellent ads too – who can forget for instance, the Tata being beaten into a 206 look-alike by its proud owner? And now the 407 is being featured in the new ‘Playtime is over’ series, again banking mostly on the car’s striking looks to instil automotive lust into viewers’ hearts. The question must be asked though: Is it any good under the skin?
There’s no denying the feline shape is distinctive. A snout this long hasn’t been seen on a new car in ages, but get used to it. Because firstly, increasingly-stringent pedestrian impact laws will necessitate space between bonnet/bumper and engine; and next, Peugeot actually makes it look good, without enlarging the rest of the proportions in the name of ‘visual balance’.
How is it done? Well, the windscreen is so steeply raked that the driving position has to be pushed way back to prevent decapitation upon entry/exit. The entire glasshouse is also pulled forward to mask the front immense overhang. Unfortunately, the combination of these two factors results in a squashed cabin. As can be seen from other recent examples, a cab-forward stance does liberate cabin space, but it all goes to the useless area between windscreen and dashboard, instead of truly benefiting passengers.
A car with a 2725mm wheelbase should be a lot more spacious than this – as it is, the Peugeot struggles to better a Civic for rear legroom, compounded by the limited foot space under the front seats. The driver has it better, with both room and a wide range of seat/steering wheel adjustments to ensure decent comfort.
Another shocker comes after figuring out how to open the boot – there are no obvious buttons or latches anywhere, and the secret lies in a button hidden in the numbered badge, very nifty – you are greeted with a truly unforgivable 407 litre space. Never mind that it is well shaped or conceals a full-sized spare – it is a full 160 litres or 30% smaller than a Camry’s. That difference alone is larger than a Mini’s total boot capacity.
And what’s with the dreadful 206-standard materials on the dash, wiper stalks and door handles? Even the roof lining flexes when you push the interior light buttons. This is a 2.0l vehicle, for goodness’ sake! Cars from the class below would be ashamed to be clad with such grades of plastics nowadays. Arch-rival Renault has on the other hand really upped their game in this respect, taking the fight right to Volkswagen, the benchmark when it comes to interior trim.
Disappointments continue when you continue to look around the cabin. The passenger glovebox is close to astonishingly tiny, due to the fuse box that takes up half the space. Also, the lever to open the bonnet also resides on the passenger side, making it inconvenient to do simple oil checks. Both I suspect are due to poor planning for RHD conversion, seeing that the UK is probably Peugeot’s only major RHD market.
Two versions are brought in, with 2.0l and 2.2l engines. In addition to a larger displacement the latter also adds 17” rims (compared with 16”), dual zone climate control, chrome accents on the rubbing strips, rear armrest, as well as rain, light and tyre pressure sensors. All for an $8,000 premium over the 2.0litre’s $107,900 price tag. Electric front seats can also be specified in the larger-engined car, for another $2,000.
We tested the 138bhp 2.0 litre, partly because of the SE’s assertion that there isn’t much difference between the two engines, and partly due to the rain outside, which would have negated any power advantage.
It’s never a good sign when a salesperson makes excuses for a product before you have commented on it, but this was precisely what happened here. The engine’s low-ish power was explained as being offset by high torque, which is stretching the truth somewhat. 190Nm is no better than class average, and while perfectly tractable when cruising around, the entire performance of the engine is really nothing worth shouting about.
The four-speed auto gearbox allows for Tiptronic-style manual shifts, which is how you will use it to get anywhere in a hurry. Because its regular brain is simply too indecisive to deal with anything between the laziest and most manic throttle inputs. Decide that you want to go two notches faster, and it stays in the same gear for a while, hesitates, then decides to shift down. By which time any window of opportunity for overtaking has long gone.
The steering is not too bad, light and responsive. And turning into a corner proves to be a fuss-free experience, the chassis providing a fair amount of precision to do what you ask of it. It’s a pity the wet roads prevented us from exploring its dynamic capabilities further, but I really wonder how that would change my mind about the car as a whole.
I’m still quite perplexed as to how much has been sacrificed in the name of style. It’s like Peugeot spent all their money on good stylists and forgot about the basics.
Now, if I really needed to spend this kind of money on a car, and put driving pleasure at a premium, I’d look straight at the Alfa Romeo 156 JTS – equally cramped, but with a really special engine, cabin and driving experience.
But perhaps the most damning thing I can do is to compare the 407 with Renault’s Megane, another Gallic offering that costs $25,000 less, and should be in the class below. Sure, the Megane is 17% down on power in theory, but in the real world it’s hardly noticeable. What’s more, it matches or even betters the Peugeot in most of the crucial areas, including space, quality, safety, ride comfort and gadget count. One would be daft not to consider the extraordinary value that one offers over the other.
Playtime is indeed over. Peugeot needs to get serious if they want to sell on more than just good looks and a nice slogan.
Monday, 18 October 2004
Letter to ST Forum: Mixed media
Here's another one sent to ST Forum today.
------------------
I refer to the forum letter by Mdm Kay Ren Tse on 18 October 2004.
I totally agree with her observation that the good and the salacious are all too confusingly mixed up in our local media, such that monitoring what I and my children see and hear has become a task of exacting vigilance.
Watching TV nowadays, with or without the children, almost always involves sitting ready with the remote control in hand, so that I can immediately switch the channel when the advertisements come on. Even during toddler programmes on Kids Central, we get advertisements promoting plays about homosexuality or cross-dressing, to name a few, not to mention the frequently aired trailers for violent and sexual late night programmes on Channel 5 which pepper all their earlier timed offerings.
Because of this, and as a working parent, I have since implemented a blanket ban on all airtime TV programmes for my young children, save a very select few, simply because I cannot expect their grandmother or the maid to sit there monitoring everything for them when I am out at work.
It is also virtually impossible to take a journey by public transport, of any kind, without seeing a woman or man clad only in underwear somewhere along the way. Our MRT stations and bus-stops are full of these pictures, as are the underground passes in the shopping districts where parents often bring their young children on weekends.
At the end of the day, I really can't see how such common and open displays of nakedness and violence in Singapore is in anyway indicative of societal progress, much as those who are clamouring for more "liberation" may argue. I would think that progress involves an uplifting of the human condition, in both mind, body and spirit. Progress is most certainly not to be found in the debasement of people through violence or the blatant exploitation of women's bodies just to sell some products.
------------------
I refer to the forum letter by Mdm Kay Ren Tse on 18 October 2004.
I totally agree with her observation that the good and the salacious are all too confusingly mixed up in our local media, such that monitoring what I and my children see and hear has become a task of exacting vigilance.
Watching TV nowadays, with or without the children, almost always involves sitting ready with the remote control in hand, so that I can immediately switch the channel when the advertisements come on. Even during toddler programmes on Kids Central, we get advertisements promoting plays about homosexuality or cross-dressing, to name a few, not to mention the frequently aired trailers for violent and sexual late night programmes on Channel 5 which pepper all their earlier timed offerings.
Because of this, and as a working parent, I have since implemented a blanket ban on all airtime TV programmes for my young children, save a very select few, simply because I cannot expect their grandmother or the maid to sit there monitoring everything for them when I am out at work.
It is also virtually impossible to take a journey by public transport, of any kind, without seeing a woman or man clad only in underwear somewhere along the way. Our MRT stations and bus-stops are full of these pictures, as are the underground passes in the shopping districts where parents often bring their young children on weekends.
At the end of the day, I really can't see how such common and open displays of nakedness and violence in Singapore is in anyway indicative of societal progress, much as those who are clamouring for more "liberation" may argue. I would think that progress involves an uplifting of the human condition, in both mind, body and spirit. Progress is most certainly not to be found in the debasement of people through violence or the blatant exploitation of women's bodies just to sell some products.
Wednesday, 13 October 2004
Letter to ST Forum - PSLE Slaughter?
I sent this to Straits Times after reading quite a few letters from parents whose children came out of the PSLE papers crying.
---------------
I'm rather put out to read that a number of students sitting the PSLE papers this year came out crying. I suppose this must happen every year but if recent reports are anything to go by, this year's papers appear to be especially killing.
First of all, why are these students so unable to deal with a situation that appears not to be in their favour? Are they so used to achieving all their goals and so conditioned to find failure and imperfection unthinkable that a simple matter of not being able to answer each and every question can so easily break them, to bring on tears?
It would have been a lot more reassuring to have read that they can console themselves for having done their best, and being truly content and comforted with that despite the tough papers. I would then know that we have a generation of tough young people growing up. But that was not the case.
I'm deeply concerned that the drilling and grilling that these students have been put through in the past year has only been focused on driving them to believe that failure or imperfection is not acceptable. If so, parents and teachers had better beware that such methods and emphasis are simply doing these children a great disservice: it is setting them up for a lifetime of continued disappointment and dissatisfaction. After all, whoever has heard of a life with not a single failure or imperfection in it? If students cannot cope with an artifically set up situation such as an exam, what more the much harder real life issues that come up later on?
And so what if they do not get the cut-off points to enter that very secondary school that they (or more likely their parents) have been eyeing? There are lots of schools in Singapore which offer a very decent secondary education, not just that small handful deemed good enough.
Secondly, why worry about the outcome when the entire cohort of Primary 6 pupils are taking the very same tests? This simply means that upon marking, the distinction between students and their abilities will be made all the clearer, and I can bet that the scores will be moderated such that the top students will still get their fair share of A*s whether or not their actual mark is 91/100 or higher. It will all be adjusted and scaled accordingly in the end.
I do wish parents and students alike can look beyond the immediate goal of merely answering every question correctly. No doubt an easy paper will allow this, but so also will just about everyone taking the paper do equally well. Then what's the point of having an exam if it can't scale the students's abilities meaningfully?
----------------
---------------
I'm rather put out to read that a number of students sitting the PSLE papers this year came out crying. I suppose this must happen every year but if recent reports are anything to go by, this year's papers appear to be especially killing.
First of all, why are these students so unable to deal with a situation that appears not to be in their favour? Are they so used to achieving all their goals and so conditioned to find failure and imperfection unthinkable that a simple matter of not being able to answer each and every question can so easily break them, to bring on tears?
It would have been a lot more reassuring to have read that they can console themselves for having done their best, and being truly content and comforted with that despite the tough papers. I would then know that we have a generation of tough young people growing up. But that was not the case.
I'm deeply concerned that the drilling and grilling that these students have been put through in the past year has only been focused on driving them to believe that failure or imperfection is not acceptable. If so, parents and teachers had better beware that such methods and emphasis are simply doing these children a great disservice: it is setting them up for a lifetime of continued disappointment and dissatisfaction. After all, whoever has heard of a life with not a single failure or imperfection in it? If students cannot cope with an artifically set up situation such as an exam, what more the much harder real life issues that come up later on?
And so what if they do not get the cut-off points to enter that very secondary school that they (or more likely their parents) have been eyeing? There are lots of schools in Singapore which offer a very decent secondary education, not just that small handful deemed good enough.
Secondly, why worry about the outcome when the entire cohort of Primary 6 pupils are taking the very same tests? This simply means that upon marking, the distinction between students and their abilities will be made all the clearer, and I can bet that the scores will be moderated such that the top students will still get their fair share of A*s whether or not their actual mark is 91/100 or higher. It will all be adjusted and scaled accordingly in the end.
I do wish parents and students alike can look beyond the immediate goal of merely answering every question correctly. No doubt an easy paper will allow this, but so also will just about everyone taking the paper do equally well. Then what's the point of having an exam if it can't scale the students's abilities meaningfully?
----------------
Monday, 11 October 2004
Thank you for the amnesia - ahem, ahem
We're all not sick. No one is in hospital or on any medication. Eating, sleeping fine. It's quite amazing really. I'm impressed. Keep me that way!
Can't imagine or remember just how exacting it gets when any one or more of us are down with something. And we've only been all four clear a day ago, but I've already forgotten. And even thinking about K-Bunny. At least that's what Matthew says he wants another brother baby to be called.
I suppose it's a blessing to have only memory for the happy things. Honestly, I can't remember horrors, or at least they become dismissably inconsequential when things are coasting again. Sean's fever miraculously disappeared when Sunday dawned, and we actually all went swimming in the afternoon. Today it's like it all never happened, that started with Sarah having to be admitted to KKH.
But at the back of my mind lurks the fear of her showing asthma signs. The slightest cough or sniffle triggers our awareness alarm - and we start staring and feeling at her chest or listening with ear pressed to her back. It's getting rather a strain so we're taking her to work out a future action plan with our newfound family doctor tonight. It's great we've been classmates and they're so conveniently situated and available.
Anyway, just a few words of gratitude for having passed through the valley, and truly, as promised, it feels like we're soaring.
Can't imagine or remember just how exacting it gets when any one or more of us are down with something. And we've only been all four clear a day ago, but I've already forgotten. And even thinking about K-Bunny. At least that's what Matthew says he wants another brother baby to be called.
I suppose it's a blessing to have only memory for the happy things. Honestly, I can't remember horrors, or at least they become dismissably inconsequential when things are coasting again. Sean's fever miraculously disappeared when Sunday dawned, and we actually all went swimming in the afternoon. Today it's like it all never happened, that started with Sarah having to be admitted to KKH.
But at the back of my mind lurks the fear of her showing asthma signs. The slightest cough or sniffle triggers our awareness alarm - and we start staring and feeling at her chest or listening with ear pressed to her back. It's getting rather a strain so we're taking her to work out a future action plan with our newfound family doctor tonight. It's great we've been classmates and they're so conveniently situated and available.
Anyway, just a few words of gratitude for having passed through the valley, and truly, as promised, it feels like we're soaring.
Monday, 4 October 2004
Depressed?
Are you? Do you feel a tightness in your chest, that you're holding your breath, food's a turn-off, sleep won't come at night, and you can't seem to remember what it's like to feel normal and not afraid?
Not to worry. Yaright. Really. It passes. I'm psyching myself. I know how it feels. But so far it has always passed. Hearing now that Matt is no longer hot and Sarah isn't coughing is also very consoling. I just wish breathing was a bit easier, and the headaches wouldn't keep coming back. It'd be also good not to feel dizzy just turning my head round to look at something.
Whine whine whine, gripe gripe gripe. It gets boring after a while though. Can I go to sleep now? Anarax! My favourite painkiller + relaxant. Have to save them for the nights.
Tomorrow is supposed Sarah's jab + zoo trip. Hmm. Can we make it? Will Matthew be recovered enough? 5 days of high fever (39.6) that comes down with panadol or ibuprofen and absolutely no other symptoms. Eating drinking sleeping pooping peeing playing well. How do you figure that? Tests are clear too. Damn the virus.
Sarah can't sleep with us at night. Drove us nuts and me sick. So Matt's with us instead. Don't want them sleeping in the same room while there's any chance of her catching the same thing from Matt.
Very sorry isn't it, each one coming down in turn. But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, and they shall mount up on eagles wings. Cool.
Not to worry. Yaright. Really. It passes. I'm psyching myself. I know how it feels. But so far it has always passed. Hearing now that Matt is no longer hot and Sarah isn't coughing is also very consoling. I just wish breathing was a bit easier, and the headaches wouldn't keep coming back. It'd be also good not to feel dizzy just turning my head round to look at something.
Whine whine whine, gripe gripe gripe. It gets boring after a while though. Can I go to sleep now? Anarax! My favourite painkiller + relaxant. Have to save them for the nights.
Tomorrow is supposed Sarah's jab + zoo trip. Hmm. Can we make it? Will Matthew be recovered enough? 5 days of high fever (39.6) that comes down with panadol or ibuprofen and absolutely no other symptoms. Eating drinking sleeping pooping peeing playing well. How do you figure that? Tests are clear too. Damn the virus.
Sarah can't sleep with us at night. Drove us nuts and me sick. So Matt's with us instead. Don't want them sleeping in the same room while there's any chance of her catching the same thing from Matt.
Very sorry isn't it, each one coming down in turn. But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, and they shall mount up on eagles wings. Cool.
Friday, 24 September 2004
Nature's balm
Well, Sarah's happily at home now, although I think she was just as happy in hospital, so thoroughly engrossed with the comings and goings in our little section that she got only half her usual amount of daily sleep. I personally think that really slowed down her recovery.
That's my one grouse about the whole hospitalisation thing actually, everything else was done so well. They just seem to have no regard for sleep at all - time for dose means must dose. You can imagine what that does when it's 2 or 3 hrly throughout the night. And 6:30 am means turn on all the lights and draw back all the cubicle curtains with a great flourish, even though it's still pitch dark outside. Just so the nurses can change shifts. I thought they were nuts.
Anyway, I'm just glad she's home. And I'm so thankful to be sleeping in my own bed again instead of the safari fold-out so thoughtfully provided in the kiddy wards.
Now we can look forward to our postponed zoo trip next week - Sarah hasn't been yet! And Matthew is saying he hasn't seen giraffes before, and I was wondering until someone confirmed that they've been moved to the night safari. So no giraffes in the day zoo. But the elephants do double duty and amble over to the night safari when the zoo closes - I find that so cute.
That's my one grouse about the whole hospitalisation thing actually, everything else was done so well. They just seem to have no regard for sleep at all - time for dose means must dose. You can imagine what that does when it's 2 or 3 hrly throughout the night. And 6:30 am means turn on all the lights and draw back all the cubicle curtains with a great flourish, even though it's still pitch dark outside. Just so the nurses can change shifts. I thought they were nuts.
Anyway, I'm just glad she's home. And I'm so thankful to be sleeping in my own bed again instead of the safari fold-out so thoughtfully provided in the kiddy wards.
Now we can look forward to our postponed zoo trip next week - Sarah hasn't been yet! And Matthew is saying he hasn't seen giraffes before, and I was wondering until someone confirmed that they've been moved to the night safari. So no giraffes in the day zoo. But the elephants do double duty and amble over to the night safari when the zoo closes - I find that so cute.
Tuesday, 21 September 2004
Retraction
Sarah's in hospital. She and Matt hadn't been well since last weekend, with the runny nose, slight cough, slight temperature - you know, the usual flu-zy symptoms. But as Matthew improved, our girl kept getting more congested, and on Monday (that's yesterday) we could hear her wheezing. What's more, her chest kept getting sucked in deeply everytime she took a laboured breath. Not good.
Lu took her to the clinic downstairs in the afternoon, where the doc prescribed oral ventolin, with the option of returning the next evening for a follow-up. By her bedtime though, it became obvious to us that we couldn't wait for the next evening. She was strangely hyper, yapping away with each successive breath, refusing to clam down. This is the same girl who usually strains towards her cot right after her prayers, thumb already in mouth.
We drove to KK Women's and Children's hospital, not knowing if we were being responsible and safe, or overly kiasu.
There's something unnerving about walking into a children's A&E area. Five years ago I would have stood there and nonchalantly viewed the patients as sick/injured children. Now as a parent, I can't help but get emotionally involved - they're someone's sick/injured child, and there's something unnatural about a young person who isn't whole. I saw it in the eyes of every mother and father I passed - that slightest hint of helplessness and disbelief, while trying to be strong for their kids.
The kids themselves were largely oblivious to this concern, when they weren't in an obvious state of discomfort. One boy was telling his mother the names of the dinosaurs on the large mural in the waiting room, while our little princess just kept on chattering non-stop.
Turns out she has something called bronchiolitis, and if that sounds like bronchitis, it's no coincidence. According to Dr Greene's website: "Bronchitis is inflammation of the large airways in the chest and pneumonia is inflammation of the lung. Bronchiolitis is inflammation of the smaller airways connecting the two."
Funnily enough, bronchiolitis is supposed to be more common in formula-fed males, which would make my breast-fed daughter seem very unlucky indeed. Unless you take into account the genetic factor, which puts the asthma-prone at high risk. Okay, I had asthma as a baby, and I guess my 'bad genes' got passed down. Would you consider that a sin of the father?
Anyway, I'm just glad that there's an explanation for the sharp concave shape her chest took on when she breathed, which by the way is known as a retraction. Of course I'm equally glad that the inhaler medication has all but gotten rid of that nasty symptom, a sure sign that her breathing's much better.
Sarah's interval between puffs (I know, it sounds drug-related. Waitaminit... duh... these are drugs we're talking about) has increased from two hours to three. But they can't discharge her until it gets to six hours, which is why she has to be warded for observation.
Lu and I are now taking turns being with her; she on the night shift and me during the day. Which explains why I'm sitting here typing this at home when I should be fast asleep. Unfortuantely I'm also downloading a ton of work stuff from my company's ftp site, so I guess I have no choice really. I also have to be up for a 7am conference call relating to this ftp nonsense, so there's a fat chance of getting sufficient rest.
You know, we were supposed to be on leave today, for a family zoo trip. Funny how these things turn out.
Lu took her to the clinic downstairs in the afternoon, where the doc prescribed oral ventolin, with the option of returning the next evening for a follow-up. By her bedtime though, it became obvious to us that we couldn't wait for the next evening. She was strangely hyper, yapping away with each successive breath, refusing to clam down. This is the same girl who usually strains towards her cot right after her prayers, thumb already in mouth.
We drove to KK Women's and Children's hospital, not knowing if we were being responsible and safe, or overly kiasu.
There's something unnerving about walking into a children's A&E area. Five years ago I would have stood there and nonchalantly viewed the patients as sick/injured children. Now as a parent, I can't help but get emotionally involved - they're someone's sick/injured child, and there's something unnatural about a young person who isn't whole. I saw it in the eyes of every mother and father I passed - that slightest hint of helplessness and disbelief, while trying to be strong for their kids.
The kids themselves were largely oblivious to this concern, when they weren't in an obvious state of discomfort. One boy was telling his mother the names of the dinosaurs on the large mural in the waiting room, while our little princess just kept on chattering non-stop.
Turns out she has something called bronchiolitis, and if that sounds like bronchitis, it's no coincidence. According to Dr Greene's website: "Bronchitis is inflammation of the large airways in the chest and pneumonia is inflammation of the lung. Bronchiolitis is inflammation of the smaller airways connecting the two."
Funnily enough, bronchiolitis is supposed to be more common in formula-fed males, which would make my breast-fed daughter seem very unlucky indeed. Unless you take into account the genetic factor, which puts the asthma-prone at high risk. Okay, I had asthma as a baby, and I guess my 'bad genes' got passed down. Would you consider that a sin of the father?
Anyway, I'm just glad that there's an explanation for the sharp concave shape her chest took on when she breathed, which by the way is known as a retraction. Of course I'm equally glad that the inhaler medication has all but gotten rid of that nasty symptom, a sure sign that her breathing's much better.
Sarah's interval between puffs (I know, it sounds drug-related. Waitaminit... duh... these are drugs we're talking about) has increased from two hours to three. But they can't discharge her until it gets to six hours, which is why she has to be warded for observation.
Lu and I are now taking turns being with her; she on the night shift and me during the day. Which explains why I'm sitting here typing this at home when I should be fast asleep. Unfortuantely I'm also downloading a ton of work stuff from my company's ftp site, so I guess I have no choice really. I also have to be up for a 7am conference call relating to this ftp nonsense, so there's a fat chance of getting sufficient rest.
You know, we were supposed to be on leave today, for a family zoo trip. Funny how these things turn out.
Tuesday, 14 September 2004
Pot of Gold
The rainbow was a complete double arch over the Seletar Expressway. Sunlight was beaming in through the splattery drizzle and the seven colours showed up brilliantly in the patchy grey sky.
As the road gradually curved, we could see where the end of the rainbow came right down to ground. It slowly moved from the roadside shrubbery to land in front of our left headlight, and heralded our way as a glittery pillar of colour tracing the earth right before us. At one point it was actually keeping pace beside the front passenger window. Gladys could have wound down the window and touched it.
-------------
I was running errands during yesterday's lunch break and bumped into an old church friend, a faithful volunteer. As we chatted casually at the street corner, it slowly came up that she has since left the church, gotten divorced, lost custody of the kids, gone back to work after ten years, and now lives alone in a rented room. This was all within the last two years.
When we saw the rainbow this morning I really wished she could have seen it too.
As the road gradually curved, we could see where the end of the rainbow came right down to ground. It slowly moved from the roadside shrubbery to land in front of our left headlight, and heralded our way as a glittery pillar of colour tracing the earth right before us. At one point it was actually keeping pace beside the front passenger window. Gladys could have wound down the window and touched it.
-------------
I was running errands during yesterday's lunch break and bumped into an old church friend, a faithful volunteer. As we chatted casually at the street corner, it slowly came up that she has since left the church, gotten divorced, lost custody of the kids, gone back to work after ten years, and now lives alone in a rented room. This was all within the last two years.
When we saw the rainbow this morning I really wished she could have seen it too.
Friday, 10 September 2004
Woman
Oooo, new credit card!!! I've waited long for this - 2 whole weeks!! And what lovely discount vouchers! Quick, what shall I buy, what shall I buy??
Everywhere I look I see beautiful clothing and articles to further adorn myself with. The single and dating days were nothing compared to this. It's a somewhat startling phenomena, this newfound vanity. Another friend just emailed to say she's concerned with the age spots under her eyes. She too has two little ones, and is (or was) another one of those only moderately concerned about her appearance. Is it a thirties thing or what?
Mmmm... but I must say it's really rather nice to feel all womanly, and to revel in it, no excuses needed (coming from an EX-tomboy). Cos when you've plonked out two human beings from your body, in a variety of ways, you just can't escape the fact that you're a woman. Unless you're a seahorse.
Anyway. I'm also due for another hairdo :-) But that's four hours at the salon :-( Never mind, it's Sean's birthday and he'll be pleased, and so will I cos that'll mean a nice night out - fancy dinner, cosy restaurant, yay. And of course leading up to the inevitable. ;-)
Everywhere I look I see beautiful clothing and articles to further adorn myself with. The single and dating days were nothing compared to this. It's a somewhat startling phenomena, this newfound vanity. Another friend just emailed to say she's concerned with the age spots under her eyes. She too has two little ones, and is (or was) another one of those only moderately concerned about her appearance. Is it a thirties thing or what?
Mmmm... but I must say it's really rather nice to feel all womanly, and to revel in it, no excuses needed (coming from an EX-tomboy). Cos when you've plonked out two human beings from your body, in a variety of ways, you just can't escape the fact that you're a woman. Unless you're a seahorse.
Anyway. I'm also due for another hairdo :-) But that's four hours at the salon :-( Never mind, it's Sean's birthday and he'll be pleased, and so will I cos that'll mean a nice night out - fancy dinner, cosy restaurant, yay. And of course leading up to the inevitable. ;-)
Tuesday, 24 August 2004
Sleep
Er, maybe we should seriously reconsider the 3rd kid thing. Sarah's performance last night might just be a timely reminder to my otherwise amnesic state of bliss after a near whole year of unbroken sleep.
Before that I do have vague recollections of hourly attendance unto her royal highness in the wee hours of the morning, but there's nothing like a simple solid stretch of sleep to wipe out any hard feelings... sigh.
Anyway, let's see now, shall we. They're both growing up real quick, and to be truthful, we simply haven't got any GRAVE reasons to avoid another one. It also feels too ungrateful somehow to reject a gift as bountiful as that of being entrusted with a new human being, considering all we've been given. The "Parable of the Talents" is REALLY scary whenever I think about it.
Before that I do have vague recollections of hourly attendance unto her royal highness in the wee hours of the morning, but there's nothing like a simple solid stretch of sleep to wipe out any hard feelings... sigh.
Anyway, let's see now, shall we. They're both growing up real quick, and to be truthful, we simply haven't got any GRAVE reasons to avoid another one. It also feels too ungrateful somehow to reject a gift as bountiful as that of being entrusted with a new human being, considering all we've been given. The "Parable of the Talents" is REALLY scary whenever I think about it.
Monday, 23 August 2004
Hope things go as planned
12 weeks maternity leave! Will we go ahead? Heh heh ;-) Am very happy for all prospective mommies out there. SIL happens to be one - we're so thrilled for her! I hope it's a boy.
And I'm surprisingly impressed at what came across last night at our National Day Rally. If our new management really takes on their apparently adopted "let live" approach, then there might be some hope! Based simply on the rally speech, it's looking good so far. Oops. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. These days, I'm almost a believer in my mom's Chinese thing about not ever mentioning "the good", lest it vanish together with the mere breath of my utterance. But I did enjoy how PM said the word "funky". Sean swears he must have practised in front of a mirror.
And I'm surprisingly impressed at what came across last night at our National Day Rally. If our new management really takes on their apparently adopted "let live" approach, then there might be some hope! Based simply on the rally speech, it's looking good so far. Oops. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. These days, I'm almost a believer in my mom's Chinese thing about not ever mentioning "the good", lest it vanish together with the mere breath of my utterance. But I did enjoy how PM said the word "funky". Sean swears he must have practised in front of a mirror.
Thursday, 19 August 2004
New found blog
Inspired by other blogs, ok they're all links found in Mr Brown's groovy website, here's a first attempt to personalise the blog. Am most proud of having added the little link in the sidebar - check it out!
Saturday, 7 February 2004
Numero uno
Hello out there. This is my very first blog and I'm glad to be a part of this new world :-)
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