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.
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).
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.
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.)