tell me about it

*MUTTER*STAFFRETREAT*MUTTER*OHWHYOHWHYOHWHY?

I have to miss choir this week because of frickin’ staff retreat.

Sigh.

If you read the webcomic Ctrl-Alt-Del, you’ll have seen the latest comic story arc which involved Lilah getting pregnant and then miscarrying the baby - a strange storyline for a gaming comic, perhaps, but I thought it would later unravel to show how Ethan may have been shocked out of his childish behavior at least long enough to put his girlfriend’s emotional distress first - Ethan being typically portrayed as madcap and wild and completely without regard for proper social behavior. However, the story ended abruptly without any sort of real self-realization or maturity from Ethan. Guh, okay, whatever. Move on, right? It’s just a comic.

Then I read the comic artist’s news post about the storyline. The artist described his desire to “stress test” his characters’ relationships, “to see if there is really something there that would keep them together despite Ethan’s antics, and I decided that this was the best way to go about it.” He described how he and an ex had gone through a miscarriage, and how it had been the straw that broke the camel’s back in that event. Neither in his comic nor his news post did he show much understanding or compassionate empathy for couples who have been through traumatic miscarriages. He went from “Gee, poor Lilah, this must really suck for her” to a comic about Dungeons and Dragons. No resolution, nothing. He didn’t even show how their relationship had gotten stronger or weaker due to the incident. Nada, zip, zilch.

And I was quite peeved, to see how lightly the whole thing was treated. And one of my favorite webcomics, known for their complete irreverence and political incorrectness, has referred to the matter in their latest comic as well, quoting Tim’s insensitive blog post verbatim. The vibe this comic gives off is that it’s equally annoyed with the pathetic and tactless way Tim dealt with the matter, which I completely agree with. But I suppose it’s a bit hypocritical of Explosm too, since they’re obviously not noted for their own tact and sensitivity.

Meh. But still, I really really think nobody, especially not one who claims to have been through the trauma, should treat the subject of miscarriage so lightly and trivially. Women - and men! - all over the world have gone through really awful depression and trauma over the loss of a child that they had eagerly been anticipating and awaiting. It’s not something to be so easily passed over.

He was right. Hollywood ought to be tried and convicted for elevating the hopes of people all over the world to impossible heights, all the better for crushing them savagely underfoot and ruining millions of lives of people who thought perfect love could be just over the horizon for them.

Yeah, screw you, Hollywood. You and your perfect families, your happily-ever-afters. Love never comes wrapped up like a Christmas present. You fight for love. You struggle over it. It causes pain, brings hurt and tears. And all you can do is hope that whatever’s left at the end is worth it.

Insomnia.

I can’t sleep.

Four thirty in the morning and I am staring aimlessly at the ceiling. Tossing and turning in bed. The lump in my mattress always seems to poke into my back at the worst possible angle, and I vacillate between hot and cold - the covers get hot and stifling and I throw them off, then I grow chilly and pull them over again. I don’t know where my cat is and I get up to look for her every fifteen minutes but she won’t appear. Thai phrases are running aimlessly through my head. I itch. I could swear there’s a rogue ant exploring my thighs but no amount of brushing or twitching will eradicate the damn itch.

I can’t. Bloody. Sleep.

Last day at school.

Back to university on Monday.

Sucks.

Life moves too fast for my liking.

Tired, headachey, and grumpy as hell about missing my Puppy. Very. Grumpy.

“What’s that noise in the background?” Puppy asks over the phone from camp. “Oh,” I reply, “it’s the construction.”

“At this time?” He’s incredulous and not a little pissed on my behalf, and it’s not hard to see why - it’s 11.45pm and they’re still going at it. If I remember correctly (based on many irate calls my parents have put in to our neighborhood police post, complaining about Hokkien auctions and their like going on at night), all noise-generating activities are supposed to end by 10.30pm.

In fact, for HDB, contractors are supposed to end all noise-generating activities after 6pm.

Apparently my dad has the direct number of the project manager of the construction site (which is located directly outside my window). He SMSed the project manager, informing him that the construction was still going on and asking if they could cease the noise, please.

“Thanks for the feedback,” the SMS reply came. “Will look into it.”

I don’t know what he did, but he sure didn’t stop the noise. We ended up calling the neighborhood police post, but just as we began dialling, we saw a squad car pull up at the entrance of the construction site. I cheered.

This is the view from my bedroom window:

That orange blurry thing is the excavator. They were digging around this large cement column and making a hell of a clanky racket. The little blue light on the right, hidden within the trees, is the squad car. (Apologies for crappy night-time photography, couldn’t get long enough exposure.)

The men walked over to the entrance to talk to the police officers, who I assume asked them to stop working and stop the noise. There was some gesticulation and the discussion took quite awhile (and the excavator was happily still clanking away in the background) but eventually the excavator was shut off, a crane pulled the cement column out of the ground, and the lights went off.

The construction site is owned by Simlian (which, incidentally, I keep accidentally reading as “SIMIAN” or “SIMI LAN”, depending on my mood). Apparently they are building a 39-storey condominium, “offering panoramic views of Bishan Park and the city skyline”, and also effectively “completely destroying HDB homeowners’ panoramic view of Bishan Park and the city skyline”, and “removing one of the biggest reasons we moved here in the first place because there was a great beautiful empty field separating my block from the next”, and “creating an eyesore in the middle of the street”, and “ruining every single bloody Saturday morning that I try to sleep in”, and “creating a main push factor for us to quickly evacuate the area and move away”.

Don’t you just hate it when the toilet seat you’re sitting on is cracked, so that it pinches your bum flesh when you get up? And not just cracked in one place, either, cracked on both sides, so that you get pinched on both butt cheeks.

We need a new toilet seat in the staff loo!

:(

After about 18 years of keeping my kids savings account with OCBC, in one afternoon they’ve completely destroyed any chance of keeping me as a client.

I’m going to close down that account and open a second account with POSB instead.

OCBC sucks monkey ass.

First the whole afternoon was spent verbally tussling with the girl at the counter who didn’t know what the hell she was doing, which didn’t help me because I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about and I didn’t know what I had been mysteriously signed up for. All I ever wanted was to put in money and take out money, and to be able to settle bills online. And pay the damn credit card bill that I had signed up for because it gave me 3% discount off my insurance payments.

And because of some colossal mess up, I now have two OCBC credit cards, one issued by freaking mistake, and EasiCredit.

And I asked to cancel every bloody thing but my savings account and the Titanium. I come home to Internet banking only to accidentally pay my stupid credit card bill with EasiCredit because my savings account is mysteriously not showing up on my Internet banking, when I expressly told her that I wanted that. And now I have a freaking extra bill from EasiCredit, and OCBC Internet banking that keeps hanging.

All this while my solid little POSB Internet banking is humming happily along, and which I have never ever had a single problem with, either at the bank or online. My UOB card is happily payable at all AXS stations, no fuss no problem, no strings attached.

While OCBC just racks up more cards and more interest and more money from me every month. And then when I call their helpline, I get some Indian dude with a really strong accent. And while it’s completely not his fault that I can’t understand him, the fact remains that I…could…not…understand…him. And it really sucks to have to go “…sorry?” everytime he asks me a question. I seriously had no idea what he was saying and when I eventually hung up, I still wasn’t sure if my problem was addressed.

And OCBC Internet banking is now…DOWN.

Screw you, OCBC. I’m going to take all my money out tomorrow. I don’t care, Vincent can explain to Great Eastern Life. I’ll pay my insurance through my UOB Lady’s card. I’ll gladly hold on to that card.

Bloody OCBC.

Well, there you have it.

Teachers are just as grumpy about going back to school after holidays as the students are.

And we’re the ones who have to put a cheerful face on.

Grumps.

:(

The field beneath my window used to be a lush, verdant, vaguely muddy, sparse sort of grassy field where (topless) men often converged to play soccer with two creaky goals.

Sometimes children would attempt to fly their kites.

I once fell and skinned my knee running across this field.

I often looked out my window and watched people on this field. Occasionally the Bishan police department would come and play soccer. Sometimes it was a father indulging his two little boys with a plastic football. Some Sundays I would close my windows to shut out the sound of old ladies line-dancing. Sometimes it was a Hokkien auction at 10pm. Sometimes, the Great Singapore Workout.

But by and large it was a quiet, peaceful field, even if was neither very lush nor very verdant. It was a nice little buffer zone between my block and the one on the other side of the field. It allowed me full view of Bishan Park.

Now every morning I am awakened promptly at 8am by the sounds of piledrivers and tractors and bulldozers and diggers. Ordinarily this doesn’t worry me, but I am on my one-week March holidays. I crave the ability to sleep till noon. I AM NOT ABLE TO SLEEP TILL NOON.

And the construction raises loads of dust - though at the moment, in the wet season, the rain manages to tamp down most of it. But every morning I am rudely awakened (and even on Saturdays) by loud, raucous clanking sounds that won’t stop. For the love of God, THEY WILL NOT STOP. Not even when it rains.

I have had to harness my urge to stash eggs in a bowl of brine for a week and then hurl them from my 10-story window. I pray that I’ll be out of this house by the time condo-dwellers will be able to look out of their kitchen window into my bedroom. I bloody hate that. I liked my field.

Ugh.