The Queen.

I'm not sure if cockroaches are irresponsible and vindictive, but I know for the a fact that they are downright filthy. The Queen of the Cockroaches does exist. Her name is Geetha Kaur and she now lives in Puchong.

We know that our office building is host to a republic of roaches but we also know that if you keep your office clean, you effectively keep them at bay. Since the arrival of the Queen of the Cockroaches at our office, we have noticed bolder appearances of the roaches in the office. We had the pest control do their thing but the roaches were still all over the place, but especially at her corner. The roaches essentially have a par-tay after she leaves the office. Sometimes we go to her place to leave her messages or answer the phone and the roaches will be crawling all over the table, monitor and phone. If you lift up a file, you essentially uncover a whole slew of roaches hiding for some privacy. I swear that there are times when they are doing the Conga across her table. We have repeatedly told her to keep her place clean, just the basics - if you're gonna eat in the office, throw out all the packaging; do not leave your packed teh tarik in the office overnight and just general cleanliness but she would tell us that it was just that the place was ridden with cockroaches. We would still find her wastepaper basket full of food wrappings, her tea would be curdled in the plastic bag, days old. Once when she decided not show up for work for a few days, we found 3 or 4 takeaway microwavable containers with food remnants on her table. When we asked her if she wanted to save the containers she just smiled with embarassment. When we were cleaning up my present room which was rarely used then, we didn't find a single cochroach. Not one. The room was ideally dark, suitable for roaches except that maybe it was too clean. There was even a cockroach in the scanner and when you asked her to scan something, she would happily scan your document and it was possibly a proud moment for her to see her loyal subjects in the finished product. Once I asked her for a file and when I opened the file, I must have raided a cockroach orgy because a whole battalion of cockroaches ran helter skelter all over the file. I threw the file out the door and one of my guys started banging the file on the ground to get rid of them. While all this was happening, she just stood there and laughed.

This is the classic though. She had scribbled someone's phone number on an envelope flap and too lazy to rewrite it in her notebook, she tore off that part of the envelope and pasted it in her notebook with selotape - except that there were cockroach legs beneath the transparent tape. We came up with a possible scenario. The roach was enroute to the dancefloor (i.e the table) and unfortunately got trapped at the tape dispenser. When she discovered this she just flicked or peeled the roach off while its legs were left stuck to the tape and when she wanted to use the tape she was too darn lazy to dispose the part with the legs. Or maybe she just wanted to keep the legs as a work of art, like the roach in the scanner.

Thankfully, she has left the office and miraculously, there are no more cockroaches in the office. We only spotted one a couple of months ago and that was it. That is why she is the Queen of the Roaches. Her loyal subjects left along with her. For the past year we have been mocking her and what she does when the roaches cross her path during the day. Yesterday, we went out for dinner and the office boy confirmed our mockery. He said that she just picks them up or flick them off when they walk on the glass portion of her table, nonchalantly brushes them off her table, stumps them with the back of her pen or snaps them dead with her ruler. The girl that sits at her place now also recently discovered a whole archipelago of chewing gum under the table.

Totally disgusting. But you know what is the scarriest thing? Now that she is married, she claims that she is the one that does the housework. I suppose her house must be the new Cockroach Central.

Surprising in Singapore.

It was impromptu. From a casual chat online about making a trip down to Singapore, I booked my flight the next night. One main push factor was because Jacquie who now resides in Australia was going to be there that weekend. My last meeting with Jacquie was crammed into an hour in Perth two months ago, way too stingy a time frame to catch up. Besides, my other friend Selina was due to have her second baby soon. The last time I saw the both of them, besides the one hour with Jacquie was a year and a half ago when they came to visit me and my new bub. Anyhow Joyce and I decided that we should make my impending visit a little surprise for Jacquie and Selina. I was brimming with excitement at the prospect of spending the weekend with my gals and away from my tantrummy toddler.

It must be made known that my accomplice Joyce is notorious for not answering her phone or checking her phone regularly for missed calls or SMSes which is quite ironic, considering she works at a telecommunications company. On Friday morning, I received a text from her saying that she had to tell her son I wasn't coming as there was a high probability that he would blurt that out to his favourite Aunty Jacqs who was due to arrive in Singapore that day, a day before me. I immediately replied and asked her for her address. The day went by and still no reply from Joyce. After dinner, I texted her for her address again but nothing. An hour or so later, 3 of my interval-ed calls went unanswered. I knew that she was with Jacquie by then but it was already past 11pm and I thought to myself, OK, she's taking this surprise a little too far. I called her husband and it went to voicemail, but I could have gotten his old number since I buggered up my contact list when my phone died last year. While I was trying to call Joyce, I got a text from Sara who now lives in Singapore asking me when I was going to be there. Unfortunately, she too did not have Joyce's address or home phone number.

When I woke up at 5am the next day, I eagerly checked my phone anticipating the address but still nothing. At 7am while having breakfast with Keat at the airport, I left Joyce a voicemail when she did not answer my call. Just before I got on the plane, I texted her prompting for her address again and switched off my phone (By the way, it was so much better to fly. I was getting into the thud of Fall Out Boy when we were told to turn off all eletronic devices. That sure beats taking a 5 hour bus ride). Anyway, while waiting to get off the plane, I turned on my handphone again anticipating the long awaited address. Now I know that the flight crew will tell you not to turn on your handphone until you get into the terminal but I also know that most people will choose not to adhere to it and turn on their phones anyway. I know this because everytime I'm waiting to get off the plane, I hear peoples' phones beeping with incoming welcome messages so obviously mobile coverage was available while still on the plane. That day, for the first time in my life, I was one of those people and boy did I choose the wrong country to do that.

At the immigration counter, the attending officer asked me for a full lodging address. I had just put "SENGKANG" on the embarkation form, a memory guess. I wasn't even sure if I had gotten it right. I had to sheepishly tell him that I did not have the full address and so he asked for a contact number. Well at least I got the place right. While waiting for my bag, I eagerly checked my phone only to find that my phone was for "Emmergency Calls Only". A detour to the washroom after picking up my bag and still I had no mobile coverage. With nothing else for me to do, I decided to get a cab. I told the taxi driver that I needed to get to Sengkang but I didn't know the block and that I would try to get the address enroute, while complaining about not having any mobile coverage. For some strange reason, I remembered the name of the shopping mall in Sengkang and checked with the taxi driver (So elephant memory does store some useful info). I told the very nice taxi driver to take me to that mall if I did not get the address in time. While fiddling with my phone and complaining to the taxi driver about my lack of coverage, he asked me for Joyce's number and called her 4 times while I restarted my phone. He too didn't get any reply and this was part of our conversation:-

"I think your friend still sleeping la. Wah! Now what time? 9 o'clock and your friend still sleeping ah?!"

"Where did you fly from?" "KL"
"What time did you get up?" "Errr about 5am"
"Wah! You got up at 5am to come here and your friend is still sleeping??!!!"

He also kept insinuating that my friend had forgotten about my impending visit while I defended my best friend saying that she very well did not, but just didn't realise that I was waiting for her address - while threatening to butcher the woman when I see her. While all this was happening, I managed to finally get coverage after restarting my phone - serves me right for not abiding by the strict instruction to not to turn on your phone until you get into the terminal in Kiasu-land. I got a text from Sara, hoping that I managed to get the address and suggested that I contact Selina since I was already caught in a situation.

So I had no choice and had to ruin the surprise by calling Selina who lived a block away from Joyce. 2 rings and she was on the other end. I had to ackwardly ask her for Joyce's address. When she heard me repeating "Ah uncle, block 231!" the cat was out of the bag. She told me that they had gone to the market so instead I decided to go to her place. The taxi driver was pleased that this friend was up and pottering about at 9am and took me directly to the lift lobby so that I would not wander off into another block and get lost in the giant maze of HDB flats. When I got to Selina's and settled in, we decided that we should now turn the trick on Joyce. Believe it or not, she was still not answering her phone so Selina called Joyce's sister and asked her to wake Joyce up (we ascertained that she was NOT at the market with Jacquie) and to return call urgently.

About 10 minutes later Joyce started calling both our phones and we decided to shake things up a little by not answering our phones. Then came in a text from Joyce with her address (hmm... a wee bit too late) and we decided that Selina should answer her phone. She told Joyce that I had asked for her address and that I was possibly stranded somewhere and that we got abruptly disconnected. 2 more text messages came in with apologies and asking me where I was and if I was still in Singapore. Joyce figured that I couldn't possibly be stranded but was pissed off with her and took the next flight home! She called her husband to ask if I had called him and not getting anywhere, she decided to call the unfamiliar number which left 4 missed calls on her phone. The gentleman on the line told her that a girl had used his phone to call her. That was enough to clear me of having left the country. When she still did not get any response from me, she called the taxi driver again. This time she clarified if he was the cabby and asked him where he dropped me off. He innocently told her that he had dropped me off at Block 232, "at your other friend's house".

Round about the time she figured out that I was in the safety of Selina's house, I decided to answer her next call. I eventually made my way over to her place and was glad that I managed to surprise Jacquie. It was a great weekend spent catching up and talking about any damn thing. We were supposed to call it a night at 12am but I had applied for Extension of Time and we retired to the bedroom at 1am where we continued to bitch until almost 3am. Then Jacquie and I continued to 4am!

It was just so nice to pick up where we left off. I think this will just have to be earmarked as an annual ritual. A last surprise, I met another good friend whom I got to know from Joyce and Jacquie and gang at the airport, on the same flight home. By the way, that was the nicest taxi driver ever!

Round & Round the Garden....

like a teddy bear...

Not quite. That's a little rhyme I play with the bub. It was more like Round & Round University Hospital.

One of my colleagues unfortunately is down with Dengue fever and we went to pay him a visit this afternoon. It didn't take us long to get to the hospital, we got there before 2pm. We finally found a parking spot after tailing a beehive of cars in concentric circles and made our way to the Lobby. His girlfriend told us that he was in Ward 11U, Room 3 on the 3rd floor, Menara Timur (East Block).

When we got to the lobby, a lady behind a counter and surgical mask told us to get out of the current building, head towards the left into the Main Block or was it North Block (it was referred to as the U Block, so am not sure if U was for Utama or Utara) and something about taking the lift to the 2nd floor. In the U Block we stopped to ask a man behind what seemed like an information counter. He told us to go towards the end, which was quite a distance and take the lift to the 3rd floor. Upon exiting the lift, it didn't matter if we took a left or right, it would ultimately lead us to the East Block. From there, I'm not too sure if he gave any further directions but somehow I think we followed it religiously and ended up on the Psychiatric Ward on the 3rd floor. Ok then. No wonder all those people in the sardine-packed lift were looking at us kind of wierdly. The ward was pretty much empty and since we did not see a Ward 11U, we stopped to ask another lady. Imagine our surprise when she told us that 11U was in the U Block, not the East Block which we managed to find our way to after quite a fair bit of a walk. At this point we called his girlfriend who had specifically told us East Block to clarify. Then she got confused and gave us some landmarks which very much resembled the U Block. Ok then. So we went back to the elevator to retrace our steps and asked another lady directions to Ward 11U. She told us to take the elevator down to the ground floor, take a left upon exit, do not go to the clinics but follow the tunnel until we see a row of elevators. Take the lift to the 11th floor. That sounded about right, the ward being 11U. After another long walk at which point I was wishing I had on my flat soled shoes, we waited for and squeezed into an elevator which took too many stops and exited on the 11th floor. Guess what? We ended up on the Pedaetric Ward this time.

Exasperated, we asked a lady behind the counter and she was so effectively nice. She immediately took a piece of paper and drew us a route with explicit details. Another long wait for the elevator which took even more stops on the way down, we were sure we were on the right track finally, only to be stopped by an Indian guy accompanied by his elderly sister with a bandage around her leg. In a nutshell, he was asking us to spare him RM12 to get medication from the Pharmacy. We told him to explain his dire situation to the dispensary but he kept telling us that they would not oblige and he needed the medication. So I gave him RM12, while he tried to show me his bills and documents. I figured if he was gonna con me for RM12, that was his karma he would have to deal with later on. Meanwhile, I was hot and tired of walking up and down the wards so I didn't really care if he was lying. They thanked us profusely and we went along. FINALLY, we found the right ward which was on the 3rd floor, not 11, in the U Block, not the East Block, some 40 minutes later.

We spent about 20 minutes with him. He was much better, having suffered for the past 4.5 days, still married to a drip. When we went back to the car, we realised how near we were actually parked but we had gone through the labyrinth. We met the siblings again, starring at a fire outside from the corridor. We asked the brother if he managed to get the medication to which he nodded gratefully. Then I noticed that the RM12 which I gave him was in the plastic bag which was holding his documents. I pointed it out to him but he was busy nodding and thanking us that I don't think he even got my drift. So I thought BUGGER THAT. I just want to go home.

The Drill.

I kept to my word, much as I was very tempted to go the other way. The notice of the looming dark cloud called Fire-Drill had been posted at the foyers for 2 weeks and for the past 2 weeks I had been contemplating. Here were my options:-

1. Screw it! Just stay in the office and let the monotony of the fire alarm complement the clucking of the keyboards
2. Leave little missy with MIL, come to work, participate in the drill, pick her up later
3. Not show up at the office until after the drill was over
4. Imagine it was a real-life situation and react accordingly

On Monday I had decided to go with Option 2. After making the necessary arrangements, I changed my mind the following day when I realised that dropping her off would take longer than the time required to come to work normally. I would probably end up barred from entering the building as the parking areas would be cordoned off. By that evening, I decided to switch to Option 3. Come Wednesday morning, the day of the drill, I was still adamant on sticking to Option 3. Then I decided, NO, a no show would just be as bad as locking myself in the office. Besides, I knew that if I did a no-show, the others in the office would be pretending they did not hear the fire alarm (I already got hints of this the day before). So like an aunty, I came in and told them that this was something we should do and take it seriously. Reluctantly, they agreed.

It wasn't so bad, except that of all days, Missy decides to sleep as soon as she got in and she was fast asleep when the alarm went off. So I had to wake her from her deep sleep, something I don't like doing because she just doesn't get enough naps throughout the day. Although you are supposed to leave all your belongings behind, I took her water and my handphone, put on her shoes and marched down 10 floors, and I did this in no rush. Luckily the staircase was empty (I think most people had cheated and departed by elevator earlier) except for 2 guys whom we met around the 4th floor, one of whom stuck in cigarette at his lips! Lugging my 9kg cargo called Missy, I told him that you can't be smoking if it's a real fire to which he said he was just placing the ciggy there to prepare for light up when he got down. Plus point that many people probably cheated or feigned deafness - No ketiak smells in the stairway!

It was alright. We took a spot under the shady trees. While it was hot, it wasn't that horrible and the whole exercise took less than half an hour to complete. I'm proud of myself that I kept my word and did some exercise that morning :)

Abandoned.

I am a softie. I cried like a twit when I had to leave my bub at my in-laws 2 weeks ago.

A week before the fateful day, I prepped the bub up daily. I didn't care if she understood me, I just went on and on. On Thursday, Mommy is going to send you to nyan-nyan's place ok? Then you will stay there on Thursday night and Friday night. Then on Saturday afternoon, Yee-Sok will send you back home and Poh-Poh will be there waiting for you. You'll spend the rest of Saturday and Sunday with Poh-poh and on Monday evening, Mommy & Daddy will be back, OK? You be a good girl ok? I'm sure she knew we were going somewhere but didn't think we'd leave her behind. She was looking at our suitcase and was bewildered at all her stuff I was stuffing into and out of the car boot. When we hugged her to say goodbye, I just started to cry and then she started to whine and didn't want to let her dad go which made my heart sink further. So how? Lured her to the fridge (she loves looking in the fridge and poking at the stuff inside) and we left.

I was heavy-hearted because this was the first time I would leave her for more than 24 hours not counting the time that she was jaundiced and I had to leave my barely week old bub in the incubator with hospital-made eye mask to bathe under the UV light. I cried like an idiot too but that was the hormones. More so because she was running a fever on the morning of my departure. But this was something I had to do. I spend alot of time with her and she drives me up the wall every now and then, mostly ending in me raising my voice (and feeling guilty afterwards), some physical abuse (she kicks me while on the changing table, I smack her wayward legs in return and to prove a point) and my lecture that The world does not evolve around you, you are not the center of the universe but part of it and DON'T THINK YOU CAN KICK AND SCREAM TO GET YOUR WAY WITH ME COZ THAT'S SO NOT HOW IT IS, MISSY! Yea, so for the sake of my sanity and well-being, this timeout was something I had planned on doing even before I had her. I admit that it was harder than I thought it would be, but a couple of minutes after the departure, I was composed and ready for my holiday. I just hate saying goodbye, that's all. And I'm a softie.

Miss Customer Service.

We bought a DIY table from IKEA two weeks ago and it took Keat more than 2 hours to screw in 20 screws to attach the legs to the table top. Because of the Chinese New Year holidays, I barely used the table. I used it twice for long durations, long being about 6 to 8 hours and maybe about 3 times for durations less than an hour. While doing some work during the second of the "long duration", I felt that the table top was curved downwards in the middle. I took a few looks and decided that it was probably an optical illusion. A couple of days ago, I was sorting out some documents on the floor by the table and again I felt that the table top was convexed. So this time I took a side view and lo and behold, it was sinking in the middle. When I pressed my hand upwards from beneath the table, I could hear crispy crackling sounds. I also noticed a small warp at the edge of the table.

Naturally, I dug out the receipt and connected myself to a customer service representative of the company. I truly believe that people can tell from your voice if you are smiling while speaking on the phone and from the inarticulate self-introduction of Ms Sue I could tell that it was not going to be a smiley, pleasant conversation. Nevertheless, I politely explained to her what had happened and she asked me what I placed on the table. I told her it was a notebook and a couple of files. She told me that I could bring the table top back for an exchange. I in turn informed her that it took us more than 2 hours to assemble the table and thus it was not feasible for me to dismantle the table top or bring the whole table back to the store. Ms Sue goes on to tell me that since it was a non-delivered item i.e. a Cash-and-Carry item, I had to carry it back to get an exchange. I had to reiterate that since it was not exactly the easiest thing to assemble as opposed to their much publisized contention, it was quite impossible for me to bring it back. I could hear her voice getting heavy with irritation when she told me she was making an exception and would get someone to come over to swap the table top but I would have to dismantle and reassemble it myself. That was it. By now, I figured that I have had enough trying to be polite to a customer service representative who was obviously grudging serving customers. So I told Ms Sue that this was not about making an exception but it was about customer service and that I would have willingly brought back the Cash-and-Carry item had it been an easy to assemble or disassemble item.

After getting my details and details of the purchase, she asked me again what I had placed on the table, I suppose to justify her BIG EXCEPTION. I had to repeat that it was just my notebook and some files. She then told me that I was not supposed to put heavy items like notebooks and files for long periods of time on the table top. I told her that the product was displayed at the home office section so obviously I had the intention of using it as a work table. She then told me that it was a STUDY TABLE not a WORK TABLE and so STUDY TABLES were for the purpose of studying, not for the purpose of putting my notebook and files and long usage with my arms resting on the top. They had special tables to cater for computers and its peripherals. Ok Miss Smarty Pants was really starting to piss me off not so much because of her illogical reasoning, but more so because of the tone of voice. The *&^%$#@! BYATCH. So I pointed out to her that people studied with books and those books could well weigh much more than my notebook and files combined. Miss Smart Ass then retorted that it was not meant for long usage. So I told her that if that be the case, they should have clearly specified at the display unit that this was item could not bear items exceeding a certain weight and was not suitable for usage exceeding a specified number of hours. Isn't it great that IKEA condones spending as little time as possible at your study table? I bet sales would have rocketed had this very crucial piece of info been displayed. Can you imagine how many teenagers would have pursuaded their parents to purchase this particular table?!

Anyway, she pissed me off so much that I told her to arrange to collect the whole damn table and a subsequent refund. Miss Customer Service said that she would call me back this evening to confirm on the collection time. Let's see.

Playing With Fire.

It's dangerously bad that we at the office take fire drills too lightly. For me, I personally feel that this nonchalance stems from my first fire drill experiences - which is from school. Fire drills meant a halt in classes, a chance to mock around with my friends even if it meant standing in the courtyard in the freaking sweltering heat. We never took it seriously, although one year the Deputy Head Mistress "kidnapped" one of my friends and hid her in the school office just to see if anyone would "miss" her. Of course we didn't - such great friends. Great that she had a point to prove but I think that was possibly the most severe lesson anyone tried to teach us about fires. Perhaps if they got some cute BOMBA guys to explain the dangers of a real building fire and how we could perish easily from suffocation, we would have taken it more seriously.

I have the intension of being a responsible adult and adhere to fire-drills but I succumb to office peer pressure. A couple of months ago the fire alarm went off one afternoon. It went on for quite some time while we went on with whatever we were doing. I figured it was just the annual drill. Just as it was starting to get a little worrying, my friend across the hall comes sauntering into my room telling me that we shouldn't bother going down because the fire was in the 3rd basement in one of the opposite blocks - a car was on fire. I went in to the other side of our office to tell my colleagues and someone went "The fire alarm rang meh?" Shortly after that, there was an annoucement on the PA system that the fire was in the basement of our block and at that point, one of my guys comes back in a huff telling us that we should get out. So I grabbed my bag (although I am supposed to leave everything behind), grabbed my child and we all made a hurried dash down the staircase along with some other occupants on the same floor. 10 floors later and out into the open designated area, we see just about everyone we know already there, such responsible adults and shame on us!. So we have a little reunion and mock around - just like how we would have if we were in school I guess. We later learned that the fire was indeed in the 3rd basement of the opposite block and there were 2 or 3 cars on fire. After the smoke cleared, there was the ordeal of climbing up 10 floors so I gladly handed Caitlin to my colleague for the ascend. When I told Keat about it, he gave me a lecture on how we shouldn't have taken things lightly because the entire carpark was connected and a burst gas pipe would have caused serious repercussions. The next day I went back to the office and shared this information with the office people and the person who told me not to go. We all agreed that we should and would take this matter seriously in future.

The fire alarm broke the monotony of this afternoon. After a few seconds, I ask my girl to call the Management Office to check if it was a drill because I remembered seeing a memo about a fire drill or briefing some weeks ago. I hear someone running out of the office and he comes back minutes later announcing there was a real fire. We went to the window and saw rather thick smoke puffing out of a compressor room in the opposite block. Again, like irresponsible adults, we deliberated our next course of action. Someone decided that there was business to settle in the washroom and someone was trying to convince us that it was not serious because the fire was in the opposite block. Personally, I think that someone was just not doing backflips at the prospect of going 10 floors down and up by foot. All for one and one for all, so technically we couldn't do anything until the former someone got out from the washroom. Halfway through this linger a very shrill, panicky voice on the PA System ordered us to evacuate in Malay. We resorted to mocking her because we had somewhat decided that we were staying put, having the advantage of spotting the fire and knowing that we were quite safe. Shouldn't the person who makes these sort of annoucements be someone of a calm nature who can articulate words properly in a situation so that people can hear and understand you though the crappy PA system? I went in to check on my sleeping child and found her awake and a little baffled. I think it was the shrill, panicky voice that woke her up. Then stairs-resistant colleague then tried to justify her petition to stay put while peeking through the window nearest to her (which is further from our view window) announcing that the fire has been put out. I went back to my view window and could still see big cloud of smoke coming out of the room. So much for accurate reporting.

Shrill, panicky woman got on air again ordering the owner of the unit to open the office door as ordered by the firemen. Later a man's voice came on air with seemingly normal "Testing, testing" but when he made his announcement for occupants to return to their units, he was audibly panting, sounding like he had just completed a sprint. Some minutes later, I heard panting man again. Surely he would have caught his breath by now? And why was he not panting when he said "testing" on both occassions? My friend across the floor suspects that it was a "live drill" because it was all too coincidental. There was apparently a meeting between the fire department and management today and the BOMBA officials were still in the premise.

Anyway, drill or no drill, I think we should take this sort of thing more seriously. We could afford to mock around because we had spotted the whereabouts of the fire. It could have been a real fire in our block and that wouldn't have been funny at all. Needless to say, I got a good earful from Keat again. But I also told him that because his company occupied most of their building, employees would tend to take this sort of thing more seriously due to compliance. The last thing you want is a lecture from your boss to take a fire drill seriously. For us, almost each floor on each of the smaller blocks are made up of individual organizations so basically people could chose to do whatever they felt like doing in such a situation.

So I had a decision to make and unfortunately, I made an irresponsible one. I promise to be a resposible fire-alarm abiding citizen in future.