9 Million Bicycles in Beijing

It's been 4 months since I last checked in: a lot has happened within that space of time. While I feel compelled to give my loyal readers (all 10 of them! If they're still reading my blog...) an update on my life and what has gone on, I also feel like I often write posts just updating people.
The lowdown on the last four months:

1. I wrapped up work in Australia. The last time I posted anything here, I was somewhere in Melbourne chilling out with my sister and not doing much work. I didn't really need to be there: the boss just wanted some closure over there, so off we went, said hi and bye to a few people, and generally stopped talking to the Australians we worked with after that.

In retrospect, that time in Australia was, on the whole, quite fun: there was plenty of drama along the way, some travelling, and the best part was just catching up with family. I would do it all over again except for the part where I froze my balls off every night walking back from the MR firm to my hotel in North Sydney... All so I could save on cab fare.

2. I also did not announce this, but I hooked up with a gal a little before my last trip to Australia. At that point in time, I wasn't sure if I was ready for another relationship. However, after 4 months (and still counting...) it looks like it's in for the long haul.

It is serious... I think. Somehow, we always cracked jokes about how we should just break up and see other people (you know, for the variety?). But all these remained talk, and I knew, some 2-3 weeks back, that she was serious.

So I should be, too.

Come to think of it, I don't think I'll be blogging much about my relationship though: it is just not my style to. Unless, of course, I start that angsty trip again, one that took me some 1 year to recover from.

3. Lots of travelling the last few months: mostly, it is for work trips to Beijing. There were also a couple of holidays: one to Bali and another to Ho Chi Minh City. Both were short excursions / getaways to seek hedonistic pleasures in... oh, I'm saying too much there. ;)

Ed Note: Hey, btw, what do you think if I start blogging about sex? I haven't quite done any of that before. Probably won't do that though: too many people know me in real life and know about my blog. Heck, it's even in my facebook profile.

More on Beijing in a while: impressions and stuff. I have a somewhat biased impressions of Beijing (they're positive btw), largely because I'm glad I finally got a chance to work here.

4. Workwise, I got onto a really interesting project in Beijing. Remember that I work in a consulting outfit for a client in the technology sector. The 'really interesting project' was a strategy piece that involved formulating a plan to grow the client's business in China. That's the 3 second spiel anyway.

The more interesting aspects of the work, though, were in learning about:

a) the challenges of marketing tech products in China;

b) the battles against counterfeits in a notoriously IP-ignorant country;

c) the importance of channels and why we should never piss them off;

d) how come no one knows the 'who, where, what' when it comes to Small and Medium Businesses; ande) the magic you can create with some customer data and a spreasheet

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Let's hope I find the time (over the next week or so) to delve a little more into some of the 4-5 things above. Stay tuned!

Relationship X Expectation = Happiness

The ultimate pursuit is that of happiness.

Don't let the religious change your mind about that: I do agree that there is none nobler a purpose than the pursuit of God and the expansion of his flock. But good missionaries are generally also happy missionaries, and ultimately, they pursue God's plan because they are happy to do so. Therefore, and again I say it, the ultimate pursuit is that of happiness. (Caveat: ultimate human pursuit of a non-spiritual nature)

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Of all the things that can make a person unhappy, I think the one that occurs the most often is that feeling of 'Being Left Out'. It's what I call the Sour Grapes Syndrome (SGS), though it doesn't always have to refer to contempt towards things we cannot get. And to explain it, I need to go into the concept of sociability and groups.

We human beings are sociable creatures and we seek other like minded individuals to form groups - it is a way for us to satisfy one of the following needs / urges: the need to validate one's existence on this planet; the urge to build bonds with another, find a soulmate, seek a friend or partner; the need to find others like ourselves; the urge to do things together with others of the same persuasion; and so on.

When we form groups (typically consisting of two or more people) bonds are built between individuals. In a 2 person group, there is only one bond; with 3 people there are 3 bonds; with 4 people there are 6 bonds; and the permutations increase exponentially the more people there are in a group.

We, therefore, find ourselves in a complex tangle of relationships when group sizes balloon. Some bonds will be stronger than others, and therefore, some of us will feel closer to one person over another.

So now, imagine that you belong in a group of 20 or so people. There are some 4 or 5 people who are pretty tight and you think that you are in that small circle of 4-5 people. You expect that, whenever these 4-5 people plan any activities, you will be invited along (because you feel... 'tight' with them). Unfortunately, your expectations do not quite meet up to their expectations of you: one or two of them don't feel that 'tight' with you.

Suppose then that those one or two (let's call them Amy and Amanda) decide to organise a small get-together over dinner. Amy calls Amanda, and they decide to invite the others within their perceived tight group. Both Amy and Amanda feel that you aren't quite as 'tight' with them and thereby omit you from their invitations (which they send via SMS, email, whatever). And woe betide calamitous Jane (Ed note: shites, where did that phrase come from?) YOU happen to learn of the non-invite.

What do you feel? You feel left out. Jealous. You feel like all you've ever put into those bonds you've built were meaningless. You feel upset that Amy and Amanda never felt 'tight' enough with you.

Sour Grapes Syndrome. Half of those times when we feel unhappy, I think we can attribute it to that feeling of being left out, the feeling that we were meant for good things but were deprived of them because someone else felt we were not worthy.

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I am sure you've liked someone before.

Let's suppose you are a guy.

And you like this girl called Amelie.

You get close to Amelie, as others who are attracted attempt the same thing too.

Amelie isn't seeing anyone in particular, and you fancy your chances as being better than most.

One day, Amelie suggests that you both catch a particular movie that you both are interested in.

You agree. You are on Cloud #9 because the girl of your dreams has asked you out on a date. You're ecstatic and looking forward to the opportunity to clutch her hand / lend her your jacket to keep her warm / offer your shoulder to cry on during the weepy scenes / have your arm gripped tightly as she scream her lungs out when terror strikes.

So you show up at the appointed time, at the appointed place. Happy and looking forward to quality time with your object of affection.

Except that it isn't just with her. It is with her and her whole posse of other hanger-ons / best buds / bitchy girlfriends / brother / sister / dog.

Suffice to say, it is not a date. It is more akin to an outing.

You aren't happy. Why?

Because you expected a date with the girl you like. Not a freaking group outing with her other best friend or sister or third cousin. It is worser still when it is a competitor or another more interesting guy.

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Expectations we built have a direct effect on our own happiness. When we get what we expect to get, when things go the way we want them to, we tend to be happier individuals.

Relationships too have a way of making us happy or unhappy. Relationships are also a function of the groups we form for ourselves - and what we feel about the relationships in our lives (the expectations) tend to colour how happy we are about those relationships.

Be realistic in how you feel about the people in your life. I think happiness comes from knowing that nobody out there is responsible for making you happy - only you yourself are capable of that.

You are capable of that because only YOU are able to manage your own expectations.

Suckers

The first principle in any relationship, work, or life in general rests on the fact that we are governed by the rule of reciprocity.

When you have an appreciation for that rule, you can generally extrapolate from that and come to a fair understanding of the state of human relationships.

Reciprocity is the principle that when you give, you receive. You do me a favour, and I do one for you in return. It is mostly an unsaid, unmentioned rule - largely because if you've lived by it all your life, you should never have to bring up the fact that you expect anything less than that. Also, decorum dictates that we do not embarrass another by 'asking' to be reciprocated: typically, a hint suffices.

So how does reciprocity work? There are a few ways, the simplest of it is this: you do something for another, you expect something in return, probably of a similar value (monetary or in kind, that is entirely up to you to judge). Suppose that, today, I pay for your meal. Tomorrow, you'll pay for mine, particularly if it comes to something similar in value. I won't bring up the fact that I had paid for your meal, because it is an unwritten rule that you should reciprocate, and of course there is the expectation that you will do 'what is right'.

Reciprocity also works in the 'negative' sense as well. If you kill my brother, I will want to kill you - i.e. revenge, vengeance. Vengeance is but reciprocity, but expressed in a negative manner.

Naturally, most of us understand the power of this social contract; to violate it will cause discomfort and unease, and only people in love or people so religiously compelled won't expect reciprocation from another individual. And why do I say that it is the base rule for most human relationships?

Take any situation where there is a giving or taking involved and explore it for a second: see if you find an exchange between the parties involved. E.g. the buskers on the street singing / dancing for all to see: you see them sing, feel a twinge of appreciation / pity / and thereby feel compelled to do something to make that feeling 'go away'; and thereby, you drop in a few cans in that tin can, hoping to ease the guilt / show your appreciation / .

However, reciprocity works best under the 'Best Left Unsaid' rule: it is most powerful when the expectation is not communicated, but inherently required; it is weakest when violaters of the rule find a way around it.

Reciprocity is not a well-understood principle for those in love, those who are loved, and the many shades of love that colour the space between.

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If you understand what I mean by that principle, then you will understand where I'm coming from when I talk about what I want to next...

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A while back, when I felt bad about having stopped blogging, I mentioned that I wanted to write a post about succubi. I've changed my mind somewhat about what I wanted to say on that topic.

Largely speaking, I think the idea behind being a succubus is that being one violates the reciprocity principle because there is one party willing to give (the lovesick fool most likely), and one party culpable and capable of leeching (the beneficiary).

The theme is all too familiar to people who have fallen for the likes of, among others, gold diggers, irresistibly beautiful women, the aloof characters, and all manners spanning the various categories.

I find that women who are incapable of giving are attractive (and that, in part, has been my failing). They demand your time, your energy, and have an inordinate ability to consume more of either. Like the drug addict in The Protege (Ed note: great drama, go see), they'll say anything to get what they can from you (within limits - I exaggerate the extent of their machinations of course).

I don't think it is that such women are incapable of loving others; I just think that they cannot love another more than they love themselves. Like the narcissist who falls in love with his own reflection, their sole purpose in life is self-gratification. The love for themselves compel them to find others who can shower love upon them - it is a means by which they find meaning for their pithy existence. It is the only they have the assurance that they are not loving themselves solely, but that there are others who feel they're worthy of love too.

However, the inability to give to others is what fails for the succubus: she takes and is unable to give in return, in a suitable way or for a suitable amount. The relationship with a succubus is doomed because the giver (lovefool) has expectations, and these expectations being unmet will generate discontent. Ultimately, there comes a point where discontent leads to hate, and leads to ill will.

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I have the notion that people can change. I have also a probably naive notion that people can change for love. I don't necessarily mean romantic love though, for love exists in many forms and ways (and Valentine's Day should have brought home that point, both with the singletons and the couplings out there).

I don't think love changes people as much as the giver (lovefool) wants to, and for that, humans are such failures. Perhaps this is also the reason why some find religion to be the perfect escape: when one has received love unconditionally, what else is there to ask for from another uncaring human being?

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In retrospect, I have learnt little from loving others, except to know that I have also been one to give too little in return - perhaps what I see in myself has been reflected in what I see in others. In all too real a manner, I have surrounded myself with people that I know are a reflection of my true nature. In so doing, I have never felt more alone.

I have never felt more like an island, adrift.

Wrapping Things Up

This is going to be largely about me: I'm getting so ego-centric these days...

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The year at INSEAD is almost over: for most, today heralded the last day of school. The Strategic Pricing prof was nice: he provided champagne, toasted to the success of each and every one of us, and bid us a good life ahead.

It has been a bittersweet year for me. I started the year a rather ebullient personality, enjoying every moment of it, but I ended up alienating a certain section of my network in the process. I'm ending the year on a somewhat depressed note: I'm sad to leave, I'm also happy to go to the next phase of life at the same time.

A friend said that I haven't been very social all period (P5) and it's true. I've shied away from contact with most INSEADers, sticking to the ones I know better and just hanging around with people closer in ethnic terms (the Asians, largely). On the whole, it was perhaps a strategy of withdrawal: to slowly distance myself from INSEAD and the wonderful time it has been. Ironically, because it has been the experience of my life for the last 5 years (or so), I wanted it to end as soon as possible. Because, in my most twisted opinion, it is artificial.

This year is not like life as I know it to be. This year has not been progressive in terms of achieving my life goals (I did get my MBA, but I believe I regressed when it came to being a better human being). That, for me at least, is why I will always regard this blip (of a year) as something of an anomaly in my existence. It was fun, it was great, and the experience was wonderful. But it isn't my life: and that's what I so desperately want to get back to.

Someone said that my reaction seems somewhat escapist in nature, it's like a retreat from all the fun and enjoyment everyone else has been having. An utterance that is not entirely untrue, but also 'reflective' in a way. I'm not escaping: INSEAD itself has been the escape for me.

In the grander scheme of living, I didn't really need this MBA at all, nor the one year away. I just wanted to escape from mundanity, conformity, perceived lower sense of self-worth and a non-too-exciting career. I could have plodded on and not 'seen the world' (albeit through rather biased eyes), but I chose to live this one year of wretched debauchery - oh I exaggerate, it is a fun year, with everyone placing emphasis on different aspects of it.

I chose this year at INSEAD to escape, but I found myself wanting to go back now. My colleagues will probably think that this is a regression, a retreat - something quite like a tortoise who stuck his head out and wished he'd never left the comfort of his shell.

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The cabaret was last night and I wished I'd gone for it. The cabaret is an INSEAD tradition brought over from the Fonty campus that is meant to showcase student talents. One can perform, dance, sing or just croak on stage in front of fellow INSEADers. Can't say much else though because I wasn't there: from what I heard about it, the performances were funny, superb, and there was a lot of fun all round.

Another INSEAD 'tradition' is also taking place: The End Game. This one is somewhat more interesting, but again, I'm a non-participant (not by choice alas!). The End Game came about because of a gender disparity in INSEAD. Primarily, the problem with B-schools is that there are more males than females enrolled: in INSEAD, the males outnumber females 3 to 1.

Thus, when it came to the general dating pool, the INSEAD female is faced with 'choice', and the INSEAD male is faced with little choice and too much competition. And if you've read my take on the game theory aspects of the dating scene here, you quickly realise that with competition being stiff, girls find it hard to fend off the die-hards they don't fancy, and find it difficult to approach the ones they do.

Hence, the premise for the End Game - the game to end all games (yuck, I hated how that sounds). The End Game is a party to which only 'certain' guys get invited to go. The invitation can only come from one girl i.e. one girl gets to invite one guy (whom they fancy / had the hots for / lusted after), and everyone gets an equal chance to hook up. No competition, no guys blocking each other out, and more attention given.

The rules (for the gals): 1) you cannot invite your boyfriend; 2) If a guy is already invited by another girl, the girl has to choose another guy to go (the 2nd choice, or 3rd or whatever); 3) you're supposed to keep it a secret, i.e. not to reveal it to the invitee nor other invitors.

It all sounds fun until you think about the poor guys who don't get to go. So, in the spirit of all things to do with parties at INSEAD, there is another element added on top of it: guys have to campaign for that 'coveted' invitation to the End Game. Wow... and I thought there was no competition. :)

I think decisions have been made and invitations sent out: Have fun all End Gamers! And if you've ever lusted after someone, tell them.

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The end is nigh and I've got another location update to... well, update on. I'm going on a grad trip to Goa next week onwards, and then will return just in time for the graduation ceremony. If I don't blog in the meantime, it is because I didn't drag my laptop along, or I was just having too much fun to drag myself in front of a PC to hammer away on a keyboard.

Also, since I started using StatCounter on this blog, I've noticed certain discernible patterns among my readership: applying what I've learnt from Marketing classes, there are 3 main segments among the readers of this blog:

1) The Friend / Relative / ex-Colleague / fellow INSEADer who I've told about this blog;

2) The click-througher from another (more popular) blog that links here (Thanks to whoever links me!);

3) The ones searching for 'Markstrat Tricks' - seriously, I have so MANY of these guys that I'm seriously considering posting up a solid article that actually espouses the tricks behind Markstrat (there is ONE and only ONE trick I know: when it's time to kill babies, you have to KILL babies).

There: my segments. :) Which are you?

Closer

"If you believe in love at first sight, you'll never stop looking"

Are we close friends? As with all vague notions, there is no metric with which I can measure the distance between us. I can't say that we're close friends because of reasons A, B, C... and so on. I certainly can't claim we're close friends because we see each other more often than others within our circle (well, outside my circle, there are friends who're indeed closer).

Can I build criteria? I think I've tried:

1. How often do we see each other a week?
2. What is the amount of time we spent exclusively in each other's company?
3. When we need to confide / talk, how often do we think of calling each other?
4. Are we... just friends? Or is there some other underlying attraction?
5. If so, is this what close friends do, or is this because other emotions are at play?
6. Have we fought?
7. How did we make up after that?
8. Do you love me? Does that still make us close friends, or something worse?

Vague notions and vague answers at best - when something as tenuous as a friendship needs to be defined along quantitative measures, what does one make of it?

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I have a friend - close enough, but not close enough to touch rub my emotions raw - who is very good at one thing: she is good at asking questions. She asks questions relentlessly, and her style of presentation is to shoot questions at her audience, make them ponder, and rattle off more questions in quick succession. The questions always demand an answer, and the way that it is asked, the answers are proffered in no small measure. The questions are always good, but the answers to them always seem to invite her to probe more, like a hungry unsatiated hippo (eating up those balls... hehe... pardon the slight digression into the 80s).

But although she asks questions well, she doesn't seem to give answers. It is a one-sided relationship: she asks the questions, you give the answers. And there's no point in asking questions of her because she doesn't have answers. Or it might be that the answers she's collected, she's keeping them for herself, unwilling or unable to share them. Perhaps she cannot distill the answers she hoards into something that someone else can understand. So the questions always come flying, but the answers don't. And in such a relationship, the answerer always feel drained, like he's being sucked dry of knowledge without any replenishment in return.

"Ask and it shall be given unto you" but can one ask incessantly? Very unchristianly behaviour to be expecting reciprocity on this account, but one can't help feeling like he isn't getting a fair bargain.

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"If you believe in love at first sight... take a closer look"

You must be wondering, do I have a point to all this? Like with all good things, I'm getting to my point - in my fashion.

I think that, with regards to how close a friendship really is, one can only ask vague questions of oneself and invite unwillingly qualitative answers. As with my inquisitive friend, the questions one can ask only invite further questions, until such a point when no answers can be elicited.

A close friendship cannot be one without some measure of attraction (my opinion). At some base level, one has to be attracted to the other - with same-sex friends, it doesn't necessarily mean you're gay. The attraction has to be of a kind where one finds a quality in the other that one desires, whether it be that the other is beautiful, or smart, or in possession of some such attribute.

The thing is, the level of attraction cannot exceed a certain (vague) point - beyond that (vague) point, it tilts towards something more akin to attraction and liking, where one party comes to desire the other. When Desire plays the matchmaker, that friendship isn't close anymore: it is means to an end, that end being one of desire, and at its most debased, lust.

A close friendship does not need frequent contact, nor does it need two people to spend any significant amount of time with each other (again, my opinion). In fact, when two people spend too much time with each other, it's more likely they will end up detesting the other, finding each other's bad habits beyond reproach and letting familiarity breed contempt.

Time apart from each other allows room in which one can grow, and change in ways that only a close friend can appreciate. Being in frequent contact means the subtle changes go unnoticed, and that is always a loss to the unobservant one.

Finally, getting closer doesn't mean one should not fall in love with the other: it just means that such emotions need to be embraced and expressed - with much grace and some acceptance of the fact that the friendship might not be the same thereafter. Never, ever, bottle up your emotions - when one does, the time will come when emotions burst forth in a torrent and there will be no way to pretend one never felt them.

And when it comes to that point, can one remain close?

George Michael sings it thus, and it speaks for me: 'I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye.'

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"Those who love at first sight are traitors at every glance"






Notes:
1. Quotes in italics were taken from taglines for the movie Closer (2004).
2. Hungry Hungry Hippos is one of those meaningless games from the 80s. You take the lever of one of 4 hippos and manoeuvre it to 'eat' as many balls as possible. The player with the most balls eaten wins.

3. The George Michael song? That line's taken from the song 'Last Christmas' by Wham!

Planes, Trains and Automobiles; A new Period

A combination of a few things put me out of blogging action for a while:

1. I've gotten lazy.

2. I was catching up on anime I haven't seen. Anime freaks out there should go catch Kanon and Death Note (the anime, not the movie, though I've heard good things about the movie too).

3. I started re-playing this very long-winded turn-based time-consuming ego-feeding empire-building game which took too much time (because I had too much of it currently). It distracted me from one true purpose of having this laptop (which is to blog with)

4. I was on holiday... with my ex... it was really fun hanging out with someone you know well, but you may never know people well enough (I've come to realise that people can change - someone you think you know now won't be the same person you know later). That makes life interesting, but I'm not looking for interesting experiences nowadays. I just want a life. Period. (punctuation notwithstanding)

5. I was suffering from a writer's block of sorts - there were things I wanted to blog about, but I couldn't put them into words.

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There was an idea to talk about one oft-cited topic: Love. Or rather the reasons for love. I think that love is based on a primal urge to procreate, and as human beings, we are driven to find love because we want to have sex and to reproduce (from a biological point of view, of course). It just gets complicated that we develop feelings along the way: stupid things going by names such as jealousy, hatred, ecstasy - you know them well.

But then, I thought about the fact that too many people have expounded on this topic already, and what can I add to the people who actually read my blog? (I think my regular readers have reached a number that I can count with both my hands!).

So I shan't discuss love - I don't have it now, and I certainly am hungry for it, though I'm beginning to think it is a function of a biological urge.

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There is this post that I wanted to do regarding Singapore Airlines though - I even took notes while the incident was playing out. I was flying out of Changi Airport (Singapore) to Bangkok on an SQ flight (my first in years) and a situation occurred which prevented me from boarding the plane for a long while.

It started with me queueing to check in at Terminal 2's Row 7 check in counter. The first irritating thing is that there is actually a very long queue: it was a rope-lashed snake with 4 bends, which meant one having to navigate an airport push trolley onto people's ankles at least 4 times. One snaky queue feeding something like 12 counters (or positions depending on whose choice of words you chose), of which some were available and some were intermittently closed. I soon found out why there were positions that had to be 'intermittently' closed.

There was actually a lady, not in the usual SIA counter staff garb (the one counter staff wear with the distinctive SQ kebaya pattern for a top and a schoolgirl skirt), standing at the head of the queue directing people to the various counters. She looked authoritative, and she even 'selected' people to skip ahead to the front of the queue, depending on how late they are for their flights. There seemed to be a bias - she seems to move Caucasians ahead of the pack more often than not, but I was probably just being too sensitive. Maybe these ang-mohs just have a thing for checking in late.

Anyhow, this was the situation 2 hours prior to my flight. And I finally got to the counter to check in. I presented my passport, the girl tapped away on the keyboard. I was kept there for something like 5 minutes before being told that a situation had arisen where I might not get a seat on the flight.

Time-out... Now, typically, I think the usual SIA customer will be outraged and suitably angry at this point. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CANNOT PUT ME ON THAT FLIGHT?" might be something I have uttered in utter desperation. With my Outraged Customer Hat on, I might have made a scene or a huge fuss out of the fact that I come 2 hours early to find myself not checked onto the flight. Not impossible yah?

But I am not a usual SIA customer: this is my first SIA flight since I was 10. So I put my
Operations Consultant Hat on instead and decided to find out why she said that.

The reason, oddly enough, actually made sense operationally. SIA is an airline that connects people via Changi airport between people flying out of Europe and Australia going to destinations in Asia (and vice versa, though it was the former case for this situation). A flight out of Sydney coming into Singapore was delayed, and a bunch of the passengers on this particular flight missed their connection in Singapore to other destinations in South-East Asia like Bangkok, Manila and Hanoi.

Knowing that these people are going to miss their scheduled connections, the system did the next best thing it could for them: it put them on the next available SQ flight out to these destinations. One of these next best flight happened to be SQ62 to Bangkok: my flight. All this probably happened even before I showed up at the airport. It made sense then and there to secure the next flight out for these folks, but obviously some things have not been well thought through.

For one thing, the flight was already overbooked - this is a typical airline practice: there is some complicated system to actually calculate yield rates and airlines know that they can overbook an aircraft because there will be cancellations. However, I was flying out on a Hari Raya-Deepavali holiday weekend, which probably screw things up a bit because complex booking algorithms can seldom account for irratic holiday weekend travel patterns.

So while pushing delayed passengers on subseqeunt connecting flights made sound business sense, the fact that the flight was OVERBOOKED, and that it was a HOLIDAY WEEKEND meant that there WILL be people actually boarding that flight in Singapore and one cannot discount that they WILL want to get on the flight.

But... Singapore Airlines, well-known for providing the BEST service to customers put their delayed customers on the next flight out nonetheless. So what was the effect of this happening?

You should have seen the scene at Changi Airport Terminal 2 Check in counter Row 7. Customers were told they needed to wait while the front counter staff scramble to get them seats. My bag was checked in: my bag could actually get on the flight while I had to wait for my turn. I sat on the seats next to the check in row, observing other passengers suffering the same fate. Irate ang-mohs are a sight to behold: this lady was frustrated, furious and screaming at one of the supervisors. Quite understandable: this is Singapore Airlines you're talking about, and what level of service is it that you cannot check in someone who's arrived two hours early?

In providing the best possible service for the folks boarding a delayed flight in Sydney, it has made it impossible for the folks boarding a confirmed flight in Singapore. Pretty well thought out for a world class airline, I must say.

Now, let me assume the Front Counter Staff Hat and see the real victim in all of this. I make no bones about the fact that the real victim isn't myself, the customer. The real victim is the Front Counter girl and mine is named Elline (I never found out her last name). It's a good thing I have had an opportunity to work behind a counter myself (A&E, NUH, something from my previous life as an IT consultant) and I understood what she was going through - I think I was the most reasonable customer for her all of that busy morning.

Often, the Front Counter Staff (FCS) have to handle things on two fronts, both of which are beyond her control in the first place. There is the irate customer on the one hand: the FCS has to deal with frustration, irritation and emotions which are generally beyond their level of comprehension. People hate to wait, and having reached the front of a queue, people hate to be told that they have waited for nothing. The FCS needs to be gentle, reassuring and understanding all at a time when they might be screamed at, shouted at and verbally abused. A crying FCS is a typical sight when things in the backroom get out of hand.

And this is where the FCS faces the biggest ordeal: things happen in the backroom which are beyond her control, and which she might have an inkling of an idea about. The FCS is tasked to provide the best possible service and her KPI is measured based on that - customer waiting time, turnaround time, service etc. But her KPI is affected by backroom events such as the one I have mentioned above.

So, the FCS can try to explain the situation to the irate customer, and at best hope that the customer will understand. It is a tough job with a frequently high turnover, but you do develop a thick hide after facing the worst of them. Elline, my SIA FCS of Row 7, was kind enough to explain the situation, checked in my bag, got me to wait patiently while she put up the sign that said 'Position Closed'. She then ran back and forth between some unknown backroom location and the front counter, all in the name of getting me on that flight.

Me? I was thinking a few things while making notes about the ordeal (I was too free, no book to read, no laptop to punch away on). Firstly, I should have just used SIA's Internet Check-in: much easier, no hassle, and my bag can be carried on. Alternatively, I should have gone in as baggage: bags can get on the flight, passengers cannot. It is SIA, I kept repeating to myself, and it has the best service. Yup, to the irate ang mohs it sure does, since their tempers are well on display. I can still picture this supervisor saying "Sorry... sorry" over and over again to customers who complained.

But I guess there are miracles. Half an hour before the plane was to fly, Elline got me onto the flight. But well, it was the last available seat on the plane - all the way at the back, no choice of aisle or window (I got aisle), near the area where the stewardesses prepare the food. I thanked her, asked her for her name - this is so that I can write this post with a name in mind. The FCS are not nameless assistants to your customer experience: they are also human beings.

I ran, boarded and enjoyed the rest of my trip to Bangkok. But I don't think SIA is that good anymore: Does it make sense that providing good service meant bumping up delayed passengers onto a connecting flight, at the expense of kicking off full-paying passengers who are booked on that flight? I'm tempted to assume my CEO of SIA Hat but I think not: its enough that I blogged about it - if they offer me a job, I think I might even try to help think through strategic imperatives to DEAL with it.

They need some serious re-thinking there... Singapore Airlines.

Stringing It All Together - Analogising it

If someone emailed you a notion of hers, and you find it thoughtful, maybe even somewhat meaningful. And after a moment (oh, perhaps something like a month later), you think that it might be something that you want to blog about. Maybe it is an idea, but you want to expand on it, give your own version of it. It's like, taking a song and remixing it - maybe call it the greyscalefuzz blogrot remix (except that it's with a piece of writing). It is essentially your own thing, but with a premise taken from someone else. You know, borrowing, re-doing it... perhaps even giving credit for where it came from.

So, if you did all that, does it count as plagiarism?

I don't know, but if this post gets taken offline for some reason, you know why.

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A friend told me in an email (not so long ago) that a relationship is like a piece of thread. When you embark on a new relationship, it is akin to cutting a length of the thread with a pair of scissors. As the relationship progresses along, through all its ups and downs, there might come a point where it breaks into two - perhaps it is an event that prompts a break up, or maybe something like an extended period of being apart. When a thread breaks, it is possible to mend it back together again - perhaps using glue, or maybe some sticky tape.

However, no matter how much the thread gets put together again, it is undeniable that it was separated before - everyone will notice that it has been mended. It's like that patch that one sews onto clothes: the patch covers up a tear or hole, but it is undeniable to one and all that the clothes are ruined and that patch only served to accentuate that. The thread is thus noticeably weaker - everyone around can tell. Why not then cut a new length of thread and start again? Perhaps this new length won't break so easily.

I liked my friend's analogy, but I decided that, like countless analogies I've heard in my life, it bears expanding upon. Think of it as an exercise in helping people make sense of the world: analogies help us manage as if the world was a simpler place to live in. Analogies were the first real and crude (and perhaps even oral) instances of models of the world. Models were built to help people simplify and generalise the world they live in - using analogy is just a way of doing that.

As for the thread analogy, one should think about what the thread is made out of first. Is it nylon thread? Or perhaps just ordinary button sewing string? Or is it layered and thick like a rope? A thick thread made out of a tough material is surely harder to break, or cut, than the ordinary string. It might even bear more weight and can take more strain if anyone tries to pull it apart.

Likewise with a relationship: if the relationship was built on more solid ground, then it is perhaps more able to stand most stress and strain put onto it. A relationship built on common goals, principles, faith, and background has more 'fibre' than one based on lust, money, companionship and availability. When it is important attributes (principles, faith etc) that connect two people, it is less likely that one can find these attributes in other people (probably because it takes too much out of one to dig out such gems).

On another point in the thread analogy, the bit about mending a thread seemed kind of odd. People don't usually mend thread - they just throw it away and use a new one. It should be kind of hard sticking two separate pieces of thread and expecting it will function like a new one, right? Perhaps, instead of a relationship being like a piece of thread, I think everyone is like a thread of their own. When one thread finds another thread, they may want to get together and form a bend knot (something like... tying the knot, but not in the marriage sense). Note: Bend knots are knots formed when two pieces of rope are tied together at the end.

It is the kind of knot tied that determines the strength of the relationship. Oh, and whether the two threads were compatible in the first place (try knotting together sewing thread and nylon). It is not impossible for two incompatible pieces of thread to be knotted together. It depends on what kind of knot is being used to bring the two together. A well-tied knot ensures that the two separate threads stay together under pressure - they don't come apart easily.

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Being home now, I sometimes tune into NewsRadio FM93.8 while driving (this being in Singapore). This is largely because it supposedly has more informational content (it does make for less mind numbing fare than the typical morning show tripe). One of the items I do enjoy are the interviews they put on the air, and there was one which I heard three times already (well, they can't do THAT many interviews, so some of them get substantially more airtime).

This interview was with a Singaporean ex-priest with an education in public policy and an MBA to boot. He is now running some sort of leadership coaching program for Singaporean undergraduates. Unfortunately for me, I didn't manage to catch his name (despite 3 hearings of the show), otherwise I would have googled him.

The interviewee witnessed an interesting coaching session using a familiar analogical exercise: a jar is provided to the participants along with the following items: some fist-sized rocks, pebbles, sand and stones of varying sizes. The objective was to fill the jar with as much of the rocks, pebbles and sand as is possible to fit within the jar. As is the case, if one had filled the jar with the sand first, it would have been impossible to put in any of the rocks or pebbles since the sand would have packed the jar tight.

When asked what the exercise had meant, the textbook answer was that the items represented priorities in life, and the rocks and pebbles, being the biggest, were the biggest priorities in life. If they were sorted out first (i.e. placed in the jar) then any space leftover may be filled with the sand (the small things in life). If the small things were to be done first, then there would have been no space for the big items, since the sand would have filled the jar without leaving any room for other stones.

The interviewee then mentioned one particular response he heard which struck as being somewhat very incisive. One participant's view was that the rocks and pebbles, the big things, were one's dreams, while the sand was but the itty-bitty stuff of life. If one were to fill his life living out the itty-bitty stuff, fussing over the mundane and unimaginative, then there would have been no space for the dreams. The dreams, according to this participant at least, are the most important things to address in one's life.

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I am wondering, and am still wondering to no end, whether or not I am achieving my dreams: I still don't know what they are, and I still don't know whether the path I am walking down leads unto it. There is no analogy or model that can help direct my life: there is only analogy or model to help me understand how best to live it.

The Break Up - My Side

This is going to sound like one of those blog entries where the blogger goes out of his/her way to do something outrageous with his/her life. All in the name of having something to blog about that is not so mundane and can actually pull in the eyeballs.

But... that wasn't why I did this.

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Ever wondered what it's like to watch this movie with your recent ex?

The Break-Up

For me, it was somewhat surreal. It's like all the bad behaviour you ever displayed in a relationship is magnified and played back to you. For a guy like me, I get to see how insensitive I could have been, even if my proxy was Vince Vaughn. I could have cared a little more, showed some appreciation, yet at times, I just want to do my thing and forget the (perceived by me to be) superficial stuff, the unsubstantial feely things that the woman only hinted at and 'fuzzed' about.

For the ex, perhaps it was a little of a revelation - she came out of the theatre with questions. She came out requiring some answers and perhaps sought to see things from a different perspective (at least, that was what I hoped I saw...) In so doing, she made the inner me smile a little contented smile. It was what I was hoping for - closure. :)

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Oh go watch this movie if you like - describing it as a romantic comedy is, in my opinion at least, incorrect.

Before I launch into why, I need to first recall an International Political Analysis (IPA) class that I had back in May, where the professor described Singapore's government as that of a 'Benevolent Dictatorship'. That, of course, drew an objection from a particular Singaporean (take a guess as to who). Said professor then asked to which part the objection was regarding, that Singapore is 'benevolent', or that it is a 'dictatorship'? His implication being that by themselves, the individual words do not describe what the phrase as a whole encompass, and that was what uniquely identified Singapore (a compliment, in less oblique terms).

And this is where my issue regarding 'The Break-Up' resides. The Break-Up is NOT romantic. It is a break-up and even most die hard romantics will be pressed hard to see anything mushy in the proceedings. The break-up is painful for both parties, and at that juncture, it isn't about the romance anymore, but about the practicality (or lack of) in living with another human being. Brooke (Jennifer Aniston) broke up because Gary's (Vince Vaughn) insenstivity went overboard (when Gary's maths failed him in a lemon test and he couldn't care less). What is so romantic about that?

The Break-Up is NOT a comedy - it is extremely painful to see two people go out of their way to hurt each other, and to induce ill-calculated reactions from the significant other. It doesn't make one laugh much (well, it has its moments, but the whole 'comedic' theme of a couple slugging out for a condo gets shafted by the emoting of the leads). Comedies have a nice neat way of wrapping things up, with the typical happy endings and with messy situations tidily resolved. The Break-Up stayed that way: they broke up.

So does it qualify as a romantic comedy? Not strictly. Most rom-coms end the other way - with boy meeting girl and hooking up. Meet, swoon, kiss, smiles, roll credits. The Break-Up started when things get messy: when 12 lemons became 3 and the lady of the house didn't get her talking point of a table centrepiece. Romantic comedies are like Sleepless in Seattle, where despite the odds, the leads end up together. The Break-Up is where, despite all odds (ok, when a girl walks around your apartment naked, it is NOT because she wants you to wank off in the bathroom later), the leads split up.

So what kind of a movie is it?

Definition and categorisation notwithstanding, it is a movie to watch for those times when you wonder why a relationship ever broke up. For a partner to watch it with, there is none better to recommend than with a recent ex: I think that it is a good way to invite a closer examination into the workings of a concluded relationship. No matter the circumstances of your break-up, seeing a break-up rom-com is a good way to seek closure.

Having closure, after all, is the most healthy way that people should part: leaving with a better understanding of themselves, the lessons learnt, and why things can be done better.

What's a tag?

I've been tagged by Ajaxus who has enigmatically noticed that I have started on a list of sorts and ended at 4 items (I intended for it to be 5, but came short). That smart guy decided that he should curse me with this silly tagging game, and here: my 'FOURs'.

BTW I don't bother being politically correct or even polite, so if you're a close friend, I would say it's better not to be reading this.


4 Guilty Pleasures
1. Watching anime (it's about the impossible bodies and huge eyes...)

2. Eating French Fries (and getting fat)

3. Surfing the net and reading gossip on blogs

4. Wanking?


4 Things You Never Want to Forget
See my previous post


4 Things I Wish to Forget
1. There are cruel women in this world, and I'll never forget the naive me, years ago, happily meeting the so called intended other on a date. Having been rejected many times over, and having lived through hurts many times over, I never learnt the lesson of letting go. So what does a cruel woman make one let go? By doing the most merciful thing she could have done to the naive me, saying the things which hurt the most. An 'Admission'. Looking back now, I don't suppose premarital sex was that big an issue; it certainly isn't for me now. But what hurt most was that this woman knew me well - she knew which buttons to push, and sadly, it meant for me the death of a soulmate. (Ed note: perhaps I should expand on this one abit more - what I've said here doesn't quite capture everything; the outpouring is therapy... of sorts)

2. Shitting in my pants as a kid in primary school. I'm NOT even going to talk about it.

3. The knowledge that my parents came close to having a divorce, and the reasons why.

4. Breaking up


Really Exotic Food I've Tried
I'm not that adventurous with my food... the one thing I can remember eating that probably few people have tried is kangaroo meat (even this sounds tame...)


4 Crushes
Woe be it that I reveal my crushes...

1. When I was 16, a certain sweet girl in school who shared my surname and little else.

2. When I was 18, a certain sweet girl who played chess with me, and purposely lost so that I felt good.

3. When I was 21, a certain sweet girl who taught me that love is fleeting and short, while memories never die.

4. When I was 24, a certain sweet girl showed me what it was to see a girl cry (and thus my older brother instincts were born)


Strangest Dream
I don't remember dreams - it is sad but my dreams are but hazy memories in the morning. At best, I recall little bites here and there, but I've never been able to recreate them again. Pity.


4 Favourite Superheroes

1. Though Neil Gaiman will strongly disagree with the categorisation, the one that tops the list is the Sandman.

2. Batman - I like tortured superheroes who aren't really that super (face it, he doesn't have mutant powers, just really nifty toys)

3. Can't think of any others... can I pick villians instead?


4 People on my Hate List
I don't hate people - I may dislike people or have a severe disincline to share the same space as some other people, but I never hate people.

I hate myself sometimes though, but I've gone past the stage where I think of myself as another person.


Close Brushes with Danger
Its when I was driving and it happened 2 days ago at a traffic light near INSEAD in Fontainebleau. No further details - I had the right of way btw.


Modes of Suicide
Death from an overdose of life

There Ajaxus, i'm all done. No curses on anyone this time.

Ask me again in the morning

So I said.

The question? "What did you say you regretted?"

I shouldn't be telling you perhaps, so my answer in the morning is going to be something else. It doesn't make sense for you to know, and it doesn't help me any to say it. And since you aren't reading this shite anyhow, it doesn't make any difference to say so now.

I regretted laying myself bare to you, like an apple without its skin, protectionless against the biting invasiveness of oxidization (I'm lyrical about primary school biological tidbits, can't help it).

I regretted the long talks, the sit-downs and the conversations. What good any of it did for me I do not know. What good is anything at all which we shared? Like dust in the wind - uttered and forgotten. I don't forget - retention is my biggest problem - and that means you'll be a part of my life forever (I know I'll never take up the same brain space though).

I regretted hearing what I had to hear from you, not that it was painful to the ears, but that it made me see the multifaceted you. I'd much rather prefer my singular version of you, that simple notion of you. The you I'd rather keep in my mind takes little space: I'd probably describe you in 3 sentences. Now, I've a plethora of descriptions and plenty of images, and the multifacted you sits taking up precious space. I hate it because I know what I know of you is very close to the real you. I regret it because it complicates everything and I hate complications such as this because I won't forget.

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Some of what I never forgot:

1. A heartbreak in 2003. Pivotal moment perhaps, and it meant that life changed. Some people will tell you there are certain points in life where you come to a fork in the road and went down one path or the other, thinking that things might have been different down the other way. This was one of those moments where I realised that the 5 years prior to that had been something akin to a series of choices down the wrong side of the fork. This was one of those moments where I would have continued down the wrong side if not for that nail-in-the-coffin heartbreak. A call to say: no more forks, you've reached the dead end.

And what happens at the dead end? Bang your head on the wall and let the physical pain obliterate the senseless wrenching of your heart. Gawd that hurt...

2. A conversation in 2005. Whys. Why nots. Politics. Goals. Religion. Life. Past. Present. Future. Kids. Marriage. Girlfriend. Career. Studies. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Food. Boss. Friend? The importance of being earnest. Network, network, network. In one ear. Out another. Black box. Feelings. Prayer. Farewell.

Perhaps. Perhaps not. Never a question I asked right. Never an answer I got in return.

3. Crying in 2000. I thought that there was a death, a passing. I thought I don't have a chance to say goodbye, not that I've ever said anything meaningful before to you. I thought that you will never get sick the way you did - I never thought that, instead of dying, that you will die slowly instead, each day at a time. I thought that all you wanted to was to live more, but you wasted instead, little by little, letting life slip away.

I know that the worst thing was losing your dignity, your once proud bearing and unflagging criticism of your children. I know this well for I live with one of them, he who bears your legacy so proudly that if and when you do leave, you leave us with a part of yourself more than ever. Unsuspectingly, he will be like you, and you will be here.

4. A kiss in 2004. Tentative. Reserved and almost shy. Yet, somehow, there was a hint of a dare. A challenge - kiss me, you know you want to. Approached slowly, like it was the hardest thing to do in the world. When it changes everything in a relationship, you want to be safe rather than sorry. Perhaps what marked the event was the place. Perhaps what marked the place was the time. And unlike life and its set of choices, there was nothing loaded about this one.

So I plunged right in.

Distances between Us

Nothing beats the physical presence of your loved ones. Technology has allowed us to keep in touch over long distances - phone, email, instant messenger, and - a new toy - webcams.

But nothing beats the physical presence of you. We're apart and yet I can still see you. That little camera and broadband access - another toy, albeit with monthly payments - allows us to 'see' each other. Yes, please stop picking your nose, and try to ignore the living room ornaments you see hanging from the ceiling.

Nothing beats the physical presence in a hug. Sure, I can send a "*hugz*" over IM, or heck, one of those fancy schmancy animated smileys (can't really call some of them smileys these days). That is not a hug - it's just an icon, a (mis)representation of a hug. A hug says so many things and soothes so much hurt.

Nothing beats the physical presence of a kiss. Exchanging saliva is therapeutic. After all, in a more biblical age, saliva was thought to have healing properties. It's not the same when you send kisses over a communicative media - it's just not the real thing.

Nothing beats the physical presence in a touch. Staying in touch - that phrase is such a misnomer. When you say "Stay in Touch", you may be communicating with each other, but you're not really in touch. What's a touch? Bunch of nerves telling you that your skin is in the presence of something else - when something else = other skin, usually, that is a pleasurable touch.

Nothing beats you and me, touching, kissing, and hugging. That's the most obvious expression of love, isn't it?

Yes, the physical expression of it.