My Take on Living in Nigeria: Generation Generator

It has just occured to me that my blog entries have been *for want of a better word* rather "inward". I have been living and working in Nigeria now for almost 4 months, and not one entry has given much insight to what life is like living here. So I thought, once in a while I should dedicate an entry to such a topic.

Being ill at home means that I get to be aware of occurances that normally happens in the camp while I'm at work. 2 days in a row now the generator has come on at specific times of the day.

Generator. Now there's a word or object that I have not heard in a long time. I thought those things were long obsolete - what with all the new-age ways of generating energy these days.

The last time I know of someone who had used it was my grand-uncle (Nenen Anggah). My maternal grandmother's third brother. This was way back in the early 80's - 1982, if I'm not mistaken. Nene Anggah and family had just moved house from Jalan Kumbang Pasang to Kampung Tanah Jambu. At that time, there was hardly any house being built in that particular "simpang" (of course now it's practically a village within a village). So no sign of existing civilisation meant that no electricity supply was available in that part of the village. For quite a long time, everytime we went there for any occasions/functions/events I will always remember how noisy it was - I will learn later that this was courtesy of the generator. Gosh, what must that have been like to live with?

Fast forward that to the next millennnium - almost the end of 2006 to be precise - the use of generators is pretty much a big part of daily life here in Nigeria. With so much oil money and untapped talents, you'd be surprise by the standard of living Nigerians are having to live. Electricity, something we have taken for granted in the 21st century, is still not in steady supply.

Nigerians (those who can afford it) have lived to depend on generators to keep daily electrical goods, like refridgerators, running. I have recently discovered, much to my surprise, that generators are not economical to maintain. I've been told that most people will only run their generators for certain periods during the day, just enough to keep their fridges running to keep their food fresh for as long as possible. So you can forget about having all-day air-conditioning in your house.

This new insight about generators has made me think about my very own "lush" living conditions within the residential area. You'd be surprise what spoilt and idealic life we lead here inside the camp. We have electricity running 24-7.

Being employed by a big company means that it can afford to provide it's employees with decent homes complete with a golf course, a club (restaurants, tennis courts, olympic size swimming pool, warts & all) and the all more important electricity. Mind you, the company has it's own power station which is why the electricty supply is so reliable.

Of course, in the event that the power station suffers a shut-down (which is not very often, I must say), we have these gigantic generators placed between every few houses or so all over the camp to help out. Normally it doesn't take long before the generator takes over in cases of power failure. So quick that you don't normally notice it until you hear the noisy drumming, humming and vibrations coming from the generators. Oh. Did I tell you that one of the generators is just opposite our house?

I shouldn't complain really. It has its perks living within close proximity to the nearest generator. But the main perk has to be sharing the same generator as the top man of the company's abode. This means that whenever power's down, it's our generator that gets switched on first - wouldn't want the First Lady of the camp to be in the least bit "perspiring" in distress, do we?

Before I even begin to have any more thoughts that remotely resembles as complaint, I should count my blessings that we live a stone throw's away from the nearest generator - well, for the existence of generators in general. I should think about the Nigerians living outside the camp whose daily livelihood depends so much on the generators.

Come to think of it, I should also thank my lucky stars before I start complaining and swearing all words beginning with every letter of the alphabet the next time we have a power trip in Brunei.

The Makings of a Bookworm

This was the First Sweet Valley book and first (and definitely not the last) book that I finished reading in one day. I bought it from one of the newsagents at Heathrow Airport. I remember asking my father for some money to buy the book. My father has always been good at things like that. He'd always encourage and support any interest relating to books. There was something about the cover of this one that attracted me to it. I must have been about 11 or 12 at that time.

After that first Sweet Valley book, I was addicted. Whenever I had any pocket money, I would spent it on Sweet Valley books. As I progressed to upper secondary, my reading progressed to Sweet Valley High. Then all my girl friends would read them too which gave way to many book swappings. We'd made sure we don't buy the same Sweet Valley books.

Other books also formed part of the "unofficial" book club. Judy Blume was another staple, and to a lesser extent, Paula Danziger.

I went on do to English Literature for both my O and A' Levels. Most people thought I was mad and rather...boring. But I can honestly say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. A favourite of mine, even today, was All Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. It is such a wonderful book. I wouldn't have known about it if I hadn't studied it.

I also remember enjoying John Donne, more than I did Shakespeare. I thought that his poetries were so thought provoking and well beyond any ideas or concepts accepted during his era.

My reading went through different phases as I grew older. There was a time when I was into Danielle Steel though funnily enough I was never into Jackie Collins. Then it was Barbara Cartland, followed by an experimental stage of Robin Cook (no not the British politician sort). Then at one point I decidedly went gothic and read Ann Rice with fervour.

Today, my love for reading and books still live on. I could never swap the smell of new books for a virtual one that you can download from the internet. However, my reading is a lot more varied now. Somehow I don't go for any particular genres or authors anymore. My book buying habits has come to depend on the sentiments and mood that I feel at the time the book was purchased.
To illustrate, my modern day favourites are Monstrum by Donald James and A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth, which has since inspired me so much to go India (this is still in my must-do list).

Apart from my love for reading, I must confess I am absolutely anal about how my books are handled. I am always careful not to crease the skeleton of the book as more pages are turned. And I absolutely hate it when people fold the pages by way of book marking. Why did people invent bookmarks in the first place?! You can tell really why I'm not particularly fond of lending my books to anyone.

Yet some might accuse me of being weird...but I'd say if only for the love of my precious books.

~ My precious! ~

Ode to Good, Old British Humour as We Bid Farewell to American Trash

Now that my Friday nights of American trash has come to an end (sorry, I just cannot see myself as a loyal fan of The Bachelor), I have decided to pay homage - or rather switch my loyalty - to the programmes of BBC Prime.

It's a jolly holiday with Mary

Being ill in bed all night last night meant that I missed The Kumars at 42 and Little Britain. So much for my Tuesday night comic. Not sure if I would have enjoyed the humour as much if I had been awake to watch them. Although I did recall - while drifting in and out of consciousness - hearing Laukong having the time of his life laughing to the hilarious *I'm sure* segment of "I'm a lady" from Little Britain.

However, I have more than made up for my loss of BBC Prime entertainment today. I can thank my lucky stars for the amount of home improvement programmes that came on in the morning - which cheered me up immensely.

We love you, Diarmuid.

Snow on the Sahara

Woke up with a really bad sore throat yesterday - well, the sore throat started Monday afternoon just as work was about to close. Then yesterday morning, I felt like I had swallowed an elephant and I could have sworn that my chin had trebled.

So I spent almost all morning at the hospital. I have never met a doctor who expressed so much interest on his patient - well, he certainly liked to talk! He didn't really ask too much questions on my ailment, he seemed to be more interested in telling me other things. I would love to tell you what most of his monologue was all about - but you see, I have this uncanny ability to switch off on a conversation, and switch on an Oscar performance with the timely "yes", "uh-huh", oh really?", etc right on cue. So am sure it was a pretty interesting conversation - compelling stuff, I'm sure.

However the doctor was kind enough to give me the rest of the week off - much to the horror of my boss. He seems to think that my crimbo holidays has started. Will not comment on that too much.

Anyway, went home on the lunchtime bus feeling the chills that could mean either one of two things: winter has started in Africa or I am coming down with a fever. Obviously it was the latter.

Wanker-Dory

Kind of had a bad-ish day today. The only reason why it didn't become a full-fledge bad day is because I did not allow it to be so. It's all a matter of choice really. Either you let it get to you or you just shrug it off and stay positive. But having said that does not mean that I'm going to pass the opportunity of having a good whinge about it in my blog. Oh! The wonders of technology!

The bastards at work - one customer, to be precise - have had a go at me again today. He seems to be on a roll for the past 2 weeks. This time it has nothing to do with me. What really bugs me is that I had to take the fall even though it was obvious that I was trying to help out, where really it was not even my job to so. And what do I get for trying to be a good Samaritan? Got on the receiving end of "shit got in the fan" effect (complete with the cc everyone under the sun and moon extras).

Apart from this shitty twat of a wanker, I had accomplished a lot of things - and all with 3 days to spare before the deadline.

Gimme the light

Much to Laukong's horror I told him that I like Sean Paul's "Give it up to me". It was on the telly during one of those "selingan" moments in between tv shows. Laukong switched the channel and I told him to put Sean Paul back on. Now the horror comes because I have always been an active "eww" advocator of Sean Paul. I remember he was all the rave when I was living in Dubai. It was cool to play Sean Paul full blast (in true "jual keset" style) while driving your yellow hummer with the windows rolled down as you pass the Jumeira Beach Road all the way to Bur Dubai. Certainly a life I am glad to leave behind.

Cow is a Bitch, Bitch is a Cow

My first-born went to school this morning. Yes, it is Saturday. School will be open for 2 Saturdays to make up for the 2-day delay at the beginning of term. My first-born was more than happy to go to school an extra day. I certainly didn't mind since this is a rare chance that I get to do the school-run. Not even the presence of Madam Cow spoilt the moment.

As to be expected she was a real cow. I don't know how she does it, but she really makes her presence known and has this air about her that she is so much better than everyone else. Come to think of it, Mr Cow has the same traits. I don't know what it is about them.

You don't know how tempted I am to publish the Cow's photo on this blog. Just so that people can see her in all her crowning effing-glory. At least you'll get to see what I mean and question where she gets her high and mighty ideas from. But of course we shall not stoop down low to her level.

Picture credit: "i am too good for your world" - sam brown, exploding dog

Infernal Affairs has departed

Will Miss You American Trash: A Tribute

Would you take a rose from this guy? Uh-uh! Ewwww...

Alas, the beginning of The Bachelor tonight marks the end of my Friday Night of American Trash. Looks like as of next week, the future of my Friday nights looks bleak.

No more Outback Jack.
No more Average Joe.
No more Kept.
Only a couple more episodes of Survivor: South Africa and Survivor: Africa.

So what's a girl to do on Friday night?

Bye-bye Miss American trash...Drove my chevy to the levee...But the levee was dry

Itchy Hands

Outback Jack concluded today. Unfortunately itchy hands meant that I went to the website while the program was still on. It was inevitable that I would read the spoiler and I only had myself to blame. Not only did I accidentally read who the chosen one was but that she and Jack had recently got married! Ba-da-bing!

Big Fish

I have just watched one of the most wonderful movies I've ever seen. Kudos to Tim Burton for the Big Fish. I'm just surprised I have not watched it until now. The stories told are just how they should be told. A little larger than life, and one of adventure.

The cinematography is absolutely superb - full of vibrant colours and wonderful characters. An exagerated version of reality, yet with a compelling story to tell. You don't get movies or stories like this in this day and age - lest of all from Hollywood. This is one movie classic that I'll definitely watch time and again in years to come. This is coming from someone who does not normally watch a movie more than once.

American Music Awards - 2 cents version

Am watching the American Music Awards as we speak. Here's my 2 cents worth:

The Who's:
1) JC - should have quit while you were on top
2) Kevin Federline - should never have started to begin with
3) The Cheetah Girls - should have stayed in Disney Channel
4) Nick Lachey - touche!

What's the point:
1) Pussycat Dolls - name is in plural but I only noticed 1 singer. Who's counting? But if you want I can fake it. Or they can too - sing, that is.
2) Paris Hilton - see Kevin Fedex-whatshisface

Honourable mentions:
1) What happened to Nelly Furtado? She used to be so cool. She's gone and done a Mariah. Somebody please UN-emancipate her.
2) Love, love, love Gwen Stefani...uh-huh she knows her shit.
3) ...But not Fergie.
4) Love, love, love Nicole Richie's new hair-do and outfit...
5) ...But not Lionel.

Random observations:
1) What's with the long hair, short bangs hair-do?

Oh, fuck, wank, bugger, shitting arsehead and hole - Part 2: The Revenge

That just about sums up my day today.

Cranky customers calling first thing in the morning - have been away from the office for 2 days (sick & workshop), so fair go, mate!

Cranky colleague pulling up a strop - all was sorted in the end as I had predicted, if only people don't start pushing the panic mode to begin with.

Idiotic collleague who washes his hands clean and likes to move the goal post - whatever happened to all this talk about ACCOUNTABILITY?

Colleague decides to tell that "ideally" the deadline for data submission should be end of close of business - I was 'kindly' informed at 10 minutes to 4pm.

Missed lunch. Took the late bus home.

Like I said - Oh, fuck, wank, bugger, shitting arsehead and hole...


Picture credit: "after years of hating myself i finally got this job" - sam brown, exploding dog

Oh, fuck, wank, bugger, shitting arsehead and hole.

My favourite line from Love Actually - enough said.

Charity Begins at Home

I went to the workshop today. Luckily my sniffing has disappeared.

The workshop was on Diversity & Inclusiveness. During the course of the workshop we were shown this video of a miniature earth. I first saw this video a couple of years back in another Diversity workshop. I cannot even begin to describe how powerful this video is and the impact of the message that it sends across. I implore you to view it and think about your own life. Where are you in the grand scheme of things? The next time you complain about your life, think about the miniature earth. If you still need convincing, try this.

Now that things have been put in perspective - THINK AGAIN.

Photo borrowed from First8

*sniff* *sniff*

It seems my flu is not improving. My nose is getting runnier by the minute. I am contemplating whether or not I should give work a miss tomorrow. I have a workshop to attend, so I can't think how I can get out of it without being charged at the final hour. *sniff, sniff*

I'm too lazy now to do anything about the pre-work. I am loathe to take medication at the same time. There are only a few tablets left, and I don't want to waste. The next time I can top-up the pills will be when I go home - which is sometime next year during the summer holidays. To take, or not to take. *sniff, sniff*

*ah-choo*

Unsung Heroes

The Wacky Races

While lying in bed perfecting the art of being a couch potato (and trying to ignore my throbbing sinus), I watched The Wacky Races on one of the cartoon channels. I remember enjoying this cartoon immensely when I was younger. I would try so hard to immitate Muttley's snickering but failed miserably sounding like someone suffering from asthma attack.

*sniff* *cough*

I've finally caught my second-born's flu full-blast today. It was lingering over my head during the weekend. But alas, today I admit defeat. Welcome, sinus!

So here I am sitting on the couch with a blankie over my head and the one bad Apple on my lap, while Barney is playing on TV (those Backyard Gang kids never fail to annoy the hell out of me).

Posh steals the limelight

Tom & Katie got married? Tom, Katie & Surie wore Armani? Who cares? Our lady Victoria looks great!

Ho, ho, ho

Usually when it comes to events, my blog is normally the belated version. For once, today I am not on time but ahead of time! As the title suggests, it's we're meeting Santa today - Sinterklaas to be precise. Courtesy and thanks to the Dutch community. Instead of elves, he has good, old dependable Black Pete.

Sinterklaas

In the Netherlands and Belgium (and in some of their ex-colonies), Saint Nicholas' (Sint Nicolaas, Sinterklaas) eve is the occasion for gift-giving, when his alleged birthday — actually his name day, the day he died — is celebrated. In this case, roles are reversed, though, in that Sinterklaas is the one who gives the presents.

In recent years, Christmas (along with Santa Claus, a figure partially derived from Sinterklaas) has been pushed by shopkeepers as another gift-giving festival, with some success, although, especially for young children, Saint Nicholas' eve is still much more important than Christmas.

The Dutch always write his name as one word. The Americans, influenced by Santa Claus sometimes write it incorrectly as Sinter Klaas. The name Sinterklaas is derived from Middle Dutch Sinte Klaas.

In the Netherlands, in the evening of December 5 (and thus the eve of 6 December, his name day), Sinterklaas brings presents to every child that has been good in the past year (in practice to all children). In Belgium, children discover the presents on the morning of December 6. Sinterklaas wears a red bishop's dress including a red mitre, rides a white horse (called Amerigo) over the rooftops and is assisted by many mischievous helpers with black faces and colourful Moorish dresses, dating back two centuries. These helpers are called 'Zwarte Pieten' (Black Petes). During the Middle-ages Zwarte Piet was a name for the devil. Having triumphed over evil, it was said that on Saint Nicholas eve the devil was shackled and made his slave.

Although the character of Black Pete later came to acquire racial connotations, his origins were in the devil figure. This racialization is reflected in the reworking of the characters' mythos. Their blackness was racial, with Pete being an imported African servant of Saint Nicholas since 1850 (though some people say Pete was a slave who, when Sinterklaas bought him his freedom, was so grateful that he stayed to assist him). Today however, the more politically correct explanation that Pete's face is "black from soot" (as Pete has to climb through chimneys to deliver his gifts) is used. Traditionally Saint Nicholas only had one helper, whose name varied wildly. "Piet(er)" the name in use now can be traced back to a book from 1891. The frame shift to multiple Petes was more or less a result of the assistance provided by the Canadian army to the reception of the saint in 1945 Amsterdam.

Sinterklaas has a long white beard, holds a long gold coloured staff with a fancy curled top in his hand (a crozier) and carries a big book with all the children's names in it, and whether they have been good or bad.

Each year in November Sinterklaas arrives by steamer 'from Spain', and is then paraded through the streets of the town he arrives in (actually in every town of the Netherlands and Belgium), welcomed by cheering and singing children. His Zwarte Pieten throw candy and small, round gingerbread-like cookies (often wrongly called Pepernoten instead of their real name, kruidnoten which in english is called "spiced short bread") into the crowd. The children welcome him by singing traditional Sinterklaas songs.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sinterklaas

Post-houmous (22/11/06): I've just realised what a boring and crappy entry this is.

Catch my drift?

The usual Friday night agenda continues. However the end of Kept last week meant that the night of American trash ended earlier. This time at a much diluted conclusion to Average Joe - what were the chances that she was going to pick the real Average Joe anyway? No surprises the Construction Worker won. Boo to you you superficial cow!

However, we ended up watching The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, which was more dignified in comparison - to my surprise it turned out to be a rather good watch. I was actually expecting it to be full of crap - what with no Paul Walker and all. But the Japanese actors more than made up for it - oh, and the cars too.

That Nissan 350 Z will be mine.

Tape Loop

Have you ever felt that your life is like one big, broken record?

Tape Loop
Morcheeba

Tape loop, keeps on turning round, forever,
Patience, love is coming 'round for your pleasure,
Wait now, no use trying to push, there's no need,
People, go against the grain, with their greed.

I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more,
I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more.

Focus, your mind will be strong, no distractions,
Soak up wisdom all year long, and then take action.

I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more,
I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more.

I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more,
I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more.

I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more,
I've been here before, it ain't gonna work no more.

You domestic goddess, you

Before going to my yoga class, I managed to make some flapjacks. The last time I made one was when I was 15. So yes, it has been quite a while. By the time I came home from yoga, the flapjacks were cut and cooled - ready to be eaten.

The recipe has not failed me - yet. It got rave reviews from Laukong and my first born. This means a lot to me considering that I am the one person who is capable of ruinning instant noodles.

Yoga Bear: The Return of Shiva

Went for my second yoga class today. As was last week, there were only 3 people. This time I met a different lady. She was very good. She managed to do most - if not all - of the complicated positions (including the stomach-on-your-elbow-with-legs-hoovering-in-the-air position).

At the end of the class, it turns out that she is some yoga veteran. She told me that she does some yoga at home as well and offered me to join her on Mondays. I must have looked rather unconvincing and an obvious novice during the whole session. She told me that she can teach the basics to help prepare for a class like today. I think I will take up on her offer, which will start in 2 weeks' time.

*Picture source: http://webonautics.com/mythology/index.html

The Patriot Game

*Newsflash*

Found out an extremely shocking piece of news today. It was so incredulous that I didn't believe it when I first heard.

According to the source - whose integrity I do not question - some big gun from our employer (a fellow countrymen at that) went on a "special" trip to the "choice" assignment destination that the majority of our countrymen tend to flock to. Apparently his agenda was to spread "word" to deter us (those working outside home) from having any funny ideas about resigning and not coming back home.

His message went along these lines - should we decide to follow our hearts and take destiny into our own hands (God forbid! Pffffft!), they will make sure that all doors will be closed to the individual back home. So I thought that's ok. Afterall if you resign why the hell would you want to go back knocking on their door anyway?

But here's the twist. They'll also make sure that the other companies (say the one that is currently employing you for the duration of your assignment) will not hire you as their permanent staff (by now of course, home would reject you also since you've just resigned).

The message is loud and clear: Leave the nest by all means, but consider yourself disowned by your parents. At the same time, I will make sure that nobody else is allowed to adopt you. And when you left out in the cold, don't come crying back to daddy either.

BASTARDS!!

I'm not being funny but who the hell do these people think they are? What really ticks me off is that these people just have absolutely no inkling of the bigger picture. It makes me wonder how they get to be so high up in the organisation. The way I see it, they have completely lost sight of the whole plot. I mean, for Pete's sake, we are a Global company. Gone are the days of multinationals. We are a sodding Global company.

What's wrong if people want to work abroad? What's so criminal about that? The way I see it, these people are putting Brunei on the map. Gone were the days when you mention Brunei people automatically think you still live on trees. We're still a long way from making our mark in this age of globalisation.

I just think that this whole approach is so completely wrong. It's just so unethical. You cannot force people to come back and work - well not like this anyway.

Yes, I admit there has been an unusually high number of resignations lately. And yes, the majority we really could not afford to lose. So, what's wrong with this picture? I've voiced this out before and I'll say it again here: If you don't want to lose your talented staff and yet you are, then you have to take a step back and find out the reason and do something about it. Retaining good people is key.

I remember asking a fellow colleague back home what were we doing about the sudden flux of resignations. The reply that I got (though I wasn't at all surprised) was that the resignations were no cause for concern. At the end of the day, in terms of pay and benefits the company was still in a very good position within the local context. Attracting new recruits should be no problem. After all nobody is indespensable. Makes sense now?

No. I didn't think so either. Cause for alarm still? I should think so. In my ideal world, this would be my solution:

Bruneians should be allowed to work abroad for an extended period without feeling their only option to stay out for a while is through resignation. The majority (trust me when I say this) just want to gain the experience and skills while working abroad. At the end of the day, they do want to return back home and bring in the skills and knowledge that have been acquired.

I strongly believe that you can be patriot and contribute globally at the same time. Whatever happened to the aspiration of "daya-saing bangsa"?

The other side of the coin also is that, most people get very, very weary of the false and empty promises given in order to coax people coming back. I have seen and heard so many examples of colleagues whom upon return from their overseas stint have lost their drive and their morales disappearing into the abyss. Most people get frustrated after being highly regarded abroad failed to get any recognition of their skills upon return by their own fellow countrymen. In return for their sacrifice of leaving home, they get back their old job as if they have never left.

So why do people choose to resign again? Go figure. Money isn't everything, you know.

The Madding Crowd

Had a bout of nostalgia tonight so decided to ask Laukong to join in the reverie. It started with "what is our song"? Laukong did really well and gave the correct answer - well, his ass was on the line anyway should he give the incorrect answer.

His correct answer was this (well done Babe...with lyrics that make you say "Damn", the Booty Man can):

If I Am - Nine Days

So you're standing on a ledge,
It looks like you might fall.
So far down,
Or maybe you were thinking about jumping.
Now you could have it all,
If you learned a little patience!
For though I cannot fly,
I'm not content to crawl!...
So give me a little credit,
Have in me a little faith!
I want to be with you forever,
If tommorow's not too late!...
But it's always too late when you've got nothing
So you say!...
But you should never let the sun set on tommorow,
Before the sun rises today...
IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to watch as you suffer,
I will let you down...
So your walking on the edge,
And you wait your turn to fall.
But you're so far gone,
That you don't see the hands upheld to catch you.
And you could find the fault,
In the heart that you've been handed!
For though you cannot fly,
You're not content to crawl!...
But it's always too late when you've got nothing
So you say!...
But you should never let the sun set on tommorow,
Before the sun rises today...
IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to as watch you suffer,
I will let you down...
So you're standing on a ledge,
It looks like you might fall...
IF I AM!
Another waste of everything you dreamed of,
I will let you down...
IF I AM!
Only here to as watch you suffer,
I will let you down...
The answers we find,
Are never what we had in mind.
So we make it up as we go along...
I won't mention tommorow.
And we won't make those promises that we can't keep...
I will never leave you!
I will never let you down!
I will never leave you!
I will never let you down!

By now we were on a roll. Here's more from our repertoire of "our" songs:

Evan & Jeron - Crazy for this Girl
Everything You Want - Vertical Horizon
Booty Man - Criag David
Bent - Matchbox 20
I Think God Can Explain - Splender
Runaway - The Corrs

Invasion of the Bus-Bonic Plague

Of all the days I did not bring my iPod to work, it had to be today.

On the bus ride home, I had the honour of being in the same bus as Mr. Cow (meet Mrs. Cow here). You know what they say about a marriage made in heaven. Well, I can now confirm that this is one (though I'm not sure about the heaven bit). Mr. Cow decided that he'd let the rest of the bus listen into his conversation. With a voice like his, I'm sure all the microphone companies would go bankrupt (Mrs. Cow has this very same talent).

Where was my iPod when I needed it?

My Name Escapes Me

5 Things I Miss About Brunei:
1) Pasar malam
2) $1.80 shops
3) Thien Thien Restaurant
4) Dim Sum
5) Hua-Ho Mall, Manggis

5 Things I Don't Miss About Brunei:
1) Gadong traffic jams
2) Shops at The Mall selling fake handbags
3) Spoilt rich kids driving daddy's cars
4) Spoilt rich kids while daddy's drowning in debts
5) Humidity

5 Things I Miss About Dubai:
1) Chanel
2) Villa Moda
3) Jimmy Choo
4) The Tagine
5) Yo! Sushi

5 Things I Don't Miss About Dubai:
1) Blatant discrimination against Asians
2) The Souk
3) The rush hour traffic jams
4) Bad drivers
5) Bad service

5 Things I Miss While Living in Nigeria:
1) Shopping, shopping, shopping
2) Sushi
3) Cinema
4) Hanging out at cafes
5) My dear, dear friends

5 Things I Don't Miss While Living in Nigeria:
1) Big city life
2) Working late
3) Work/life (im)balance
4) Which-side-of-the-family-do-we-stay-at-for-the-weekend predicament
5) Sunday is wedding invitation day

Everyday is Like Sunday

My first-born went swimming with Laukong while I and second-born watched on. It was 11 a.m. when we reached the Club pool, and the most I have seen expats there. We had lunch at the Club for a change. Usually Sunday means take-aways for us.

Otherwise, the day was uneventful (unless you count when I puked all my lunch out just as we were walking back home from the Club). We spent the rest of the day watching telly, and I, of course, on the Internet.

Busy bee me - but not quite the social butterfly

I decided to make more effort in transforming my social life from one of virtual (Internet about sums it up) into reality (where the real people live).

So I have invited my first-born's friend along with his mum and sister over for lunch. Play-date for the kids; girly-time for the mums.

In the afternoon, my first-born had a birthday party invitation. So the whole family went. It was nice to be out and about.

Late in the afternoon a friend dropped by with the family. As usual it's always nice to have their company.

So here I am a busy, busy bee after an unusually busy, busy day.

Fit - C'est moi?

I never thought I'd see the day when me and exercise can be in the same sentence.

Thursday Yoga. I cannot even begin to tell you some of laughable (and painful) moments. I'm surprised how I managed to keep a straight face after praying to Shiva and all.

After sending Laukong for golf this morning, I went cycling around the camp (well...I made a few short cuts here and there. At one point got laughed at by a community worker when I stopped for a drink of water. Note to self: Must work on a more credible dishevelled look).

Black Hole Sun

Civilisation is finally and slowly rearing it's ugly (but most welcomed) head. Yesterday the TV started coming on. Today the Internet. Hooray, hooray. However still no telephone. Well, you can't always get what you want.

So today, back to my Friday night gig:

Outback Jack (why did you let Mere-de out you foolish bastard?);
Average Joe (what took you so long to figure out that whatshisface was a himbo?);
Kept (what? Seth? You've got to be kidding me?);
Survivor South Africa (why is Lezel still in?);
Survivor Africa (when is Meti going to be voted out?).

I just love my Friday night splurge of American-invented trash.

God bless American trash.

I invented Post-Its

Since the colossal thunder storm last Sunday, we've had no TV, no telephone, no internet.

I'm cheating. I'm writing this from the office. Complete misuse of company time. But desperation calls for desperate measures. And I'm getting Internet withdrawal symptons. Talk about living it rough.

So since we were so desperate for entertainment, we had to look through our collections of DVD's. Somewhere in the pile I found a movie I have not watched in a long time - Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion.

My High School Reunion Soundtrack:

1) What Is Love - Haddaway
2) I've Got the Key - Urban Cookie Collective
3) Looking Through Patience Eye - PM Dawn
4) It's My Life - Dr Alban
5) Just Another Day - Jon Secada
6) Would I Lie to You - Charles & Eddie
7) Stay - Shakespears Sister
8) Angel - Jon Secada
9) I Miss You - Haddaway
10) Come Undone - Duran Duran

Starlight, star bright...

Wish list (not necessarily in ranking order):

• Hermes Birkin bag - 35 cm in Togo leather Bleu Jean

• Bentley Continental GT

• Cartier Pasha C watch

• Ideal weight of 55kg