In Singapore, Indoor smoking makes air 28 times more polluted.
The study has found that it takes just two lit cigarettes, in an enclosed room the size of a HDB bedroom, to generate 622 microgrammes of pollutants.
That is an air quality that is almost two and half times more polluted than when the PSI is at the hazardous level of 300.
It’s good to hear that the government plans to ban smoking in pubs and clubs next year — just being here (where there is already such a ban in place) for about a month and going to pubs a couple of times and then being able to go home and go to sleep and not reek of cigarette smoke is so fantastic.
(Unfortunately, there are smokers in the house, so we have this strange reverse thing happening.)
News from Scotland a few months after the ban was implemented showed that Scots bar staff health ‘improved’. I’m not even bar staff and my breathing is much better when I’m in the pub and there is nary a lit cigarette to be found.
One complaint I have heard from a smoker was that instead of smelling smoke, one smells sweat instead. And that when winter comes, they have to brave the elements to smoke. I reckon pubs could build glass-walled cubes like those smoking rooms in Changi Airport. Outdoors, of course.
From the BBC website
Oh. My. God. I hear it might snow up north.
(My mum was commenting that 15 degrees in Glasgow last weekend was pretty cold. Ha!)
Michel had quite the adventure on Saturday when I visited the craft fair. First, he hung out with me as I learned to knit and purl (a little), and then he fell out of my pocket as I was walking along. Luckily, I noticed he was missing quite soon after, and as I was wandering through the crowds looking at the ground, a woman asked me if I had dropped a duck, as she had picked it up and put it on a service counter.
I would have been gutted if I’d lost Michel.
Michel at the craft fair, originally uploaded by Andrea See.
As penned on 20 October 2006
My name is Hen. All the old aunties (and uncles!) are calling me Hen.
In spending most of my days in a house without Internet access (we’re being connected at the end of the month, Thank Fuck), I am being caught up on the four decade history of Coronation Street. Right now, the big scandal(s) are Jamie having smooched his stepmum Frankie (who is in love with his dad Danny) at the funeral of Fred, who was ten minutes away from marrying Bev but died while at his old flame Audrey’s house.
Then there’s City Hospital where there was a natural birth live on teevee and Holby City where just a couple of nights ago, Elliot’s wife took the euthanasia way out in Switzerland with help from bitchy doctor Connie and the administrator bloke was totally mean to the nurse he was banging. Let’s not forget reruns of The Simpsons that are on every night on 4. I saw Neighbours for the first time in several years, and I only recognised two of the characters. There are a buttload of cooking programmes on Saturday mornings and house-buying type shows in the morning (To Buy or Not To Buy is particularly rivetingly woeful).
Last week, we were up a bit later and saw something called Club Reps, with the DVD now available. Club Reps is about silly Poms on holiday in places like Greece, and I can’t think of a worse way to spend those expensive pounds I’ve not yet started earning. Death of a President was on last night, though, and I thought it was really quite good (but would make Bush feel far more important than he is).
And they say there’s nowt good on the telly.
We haven’t moved in yet, we’re just around the corner.
Running’s been a bit thin on the ground this month (since I got here). I’ve only gone out three times, yesterday’s four km (approximately) jaunt being the longest. I’m not used to running in cool weather!
Well, we’re connected. Unfortunately, we’ve not got our wireless router plugged in yet, so it’s my turn to download e-mails (several thousand in spam, last week it was over 2,000!) so I’m posting while I wait.
The craft fair(s) were cool, two for the price of one, and I got some supplies (card stock, a cutting surface, cheap yarn). I was also given a lesson in learning to knit and a little kit of my own (thank you, Karen). So I am knitting and purling up a storm on my test scarf while Neil’s mother, a knitting veteran, keeps an eye on my progress (and she’ll be the one teaching me how to cast off). I am determined to get us to a Stitch and Bitch in Glasgow (or somewhere closer to home) because it’ll be fun. And I see knit toys in my future.
(Lisiepeasie, there were more card / papercraft stalls than anything, a few wool / knitting stalls, and loads of interesting crafts I’d never thought of trying. The one that really got me was the sewing machine booth, where the sewing machines on display did pretty much everything but make you a cup of tea. It’s well worth going to these huge craft fairs, and there’s another one in March 2007!)
I will upload some pictures as soon as we sort out this wireless connection as I don’t want to spend more time than necessary while we have to share this wired connection.
I’m at my cousin’s. We get our Internet connected next week. We went to a graduate fair to see if any jobs were available and it seems more like a PR exercise than any real effort to assist people in finding meaningful work.
We have been doing some stuff round what will be the new place of abode. You can see some in progress (more like just starting) pictures.
There is a craft fair on at the SECC this weekend.
In Scotland. No Internet at home. At coffee shop. Wireless access is expensive.
Kids where I live stare at me like people in Xiamen stared at Neil. A singularly unusual and hilarious experience (“Look, a Chinky!” is what I imagine they’re saying).
The house we’re renovating is going to so shit hot when it’s completed.
It’s been cold, but I’m told it’s actually very mild for this time of year. Loads of hawthorn berries are on the trees, which is traditionally a sign of a bad winter. Oh joy and raptures.
I have new black Doc Martens that are very cool. I wear woolly socks. I just bought a pair of fluffy cow slippers for wearing around the house. Hehe.
Still looking for a job.
I have lived in three very different countries.
All their time zones were identical, though. I must have a phobia of watch winding.
That’s all about to change.
I’ve got my visa and air ticket (and 20kg baggage limit). Woohoohoo!
Mum said ‘Melts in your mouth, not in your hand’ Lee (she doesn’t call him that, I do) is the only person in Singapore would would dare to say what he said about Malaysia and not bother to respond as the fury grew across the causeway. He was certainly silent for many days (perhaps trying to think of a more diplomatic way to say things — he’s a blunt and to-the-point bloke, isn’t he?), but the paper printed his letter (it even has an annex!) to Malaysia’s PM Abdullah Badawi.
(FYI, LKY made a remark about ethnic Chinese in our neighbouring countries being marginalised, and how these countries want Singapore to be like those Chinese — compliant — and this set off a shitstorm, with both Indonesia and Malaysia blustering that the ethnic Chinese in their countries are not disadvantaged at all.)
We all know it, but no one who matters will admit to it openly. Singaporeans and Malaysians need to argue and demonise each other, it’s helpful to nationalism and gives us something ‘exciting’ and ‘controversial’ to discuss, i.e. something to do, we might start having thoughts unhelpful to nation-building or whatever otherwise.
(Being ethnic Chinese, I don’t feel I can really say anything, marginalising ethnic minorities can happen either institutionally or through prejudiced attitudes. And we all know it happens everywhere.)
Elsewhere: Malaysia gives icy reply to Lee Kuan Yew apology.
A very brief history of Singapore, from the days of Sang Nila Utama to last month’s IMF/WB meetings, as performed by Hossan Leong.
It even comes with subtitles! Via my mother and my aunt.
Update: I don’t know why the video won’t play either, Terry, so here’s a link to the page: Mr Brown Show.
Thanks to Terry, I now know more about Male Restroom Etiquette than I ever wanted to. Who knew one could make an almost ten-minute video about toilets?
This movie is a MUST WATCH. I loved it so much. The cast was so convincing. I was so annoyed with, then felt so sorry for Richard (Greg Kinnear). I was floored by Frank (Steve Carell was so well-cast). Everyone was great.
Female children in beauty pageants are scary shit, if the movie is anything to go by. The way they’re made up to look like adults is pretty hideous, really. And I mean that in the sense of children with all that makeup on look ugly.
The best movie I’ve seen this year. I mean it.
Total jogging distance was 65km
Total walking distance was 51.3km
To see it full-size, please click on the image
Looks better than last month, doesn’t it?
