My very first letter of the alphabet

X.

I don't know what other kids start with, but of all letters, Sara seems to be able to recognize and vocalize… X. Not A, not B, not C, but X. I don't believe we say "xylophone" or "x-ray" half as often as we say "apple" or "ball" or "cat". Very curious. And it all happened after her first day of school this week.

Elsewhere, her rudimentary vocabulary continues to grow. On an almost daily basis, she surprises us with a new word. As though her brain's been absorbing, absorbing, absorbing and suddenly, she can vocalize it. Strangely enough, one of her newest words is helicopter. Strange because it's not part of the regular vocabulary children start with. That said, each time a helicopter (or plane – she can't differentiate) passes overhead, she notices the noise and points up and says imperiously,

"Ah-puh-KUHP!"

"Hm? Helicopter?"

"Ah-puh-KUHP!"

"Yeah, sweetie, that's the helicopter…."

We put it all down to our stay at the Ritz Carlton over the National Day holiday where we all crouched before the lift lobby window and watched the helicopters and planes whizz by. It was the closest we'd ever been to a fly past, and certainly, Sara got a good view of "things flying in the sky". So she's learnt that helicopters (and theoretically planes) make loud noises and fly over head. So here we are.

Ah-puh-KUHP.

Wassup??

The promised email

It came a couple of hours after I wrote my last post. It's a really long email, partly to apologize for me being in a tizzy about the changed battery (but nevertheless insisting that the battery had to be changed), and partly to explain the current problem with the car. It is a long and wordy email, painfully verbalized from a Japanese thought process. For that, I salute my fix-it guy. With my part-time (or more like occasional) editing job, I know that translations from Japanese to English are ridiculously difficult, given the long winded and indirect way the Japanese language is expressed.

I was almost sympathetic by the time I got to the end of the email, which, by the way, says that they still can't detect the problem since the car's now purring like a kitten at the workshop, but that they do intend to keep it till they sort it out. And then I read this,

"I understand enough you are very fussy.
But let me know your opinion after you examine it, please."

Yeah, I guess I am fussy. Although I'm sure that's not what he meant to say to me, the customer. What to do now? I guess we wait, as he says, for them to "confirm the appearance of your car".

Japanese (in)efficiency

Warning: Rant ahead.

The car. The bane of my life. They dragged it away last Friday and they have yet (as of Tuesday evening) to determine what the hell is wrong with it. I called this morning to rant at the boss of our fix-it guy. It's not that I intentionally wanted to go over our fix-it guy's head to speak to his boss, but oh, just try yelling at someone who speaks little English. It doesn't work. I try, in simple English,

"The car. How come it break down again? We sent it for shaken a year ago. Before then, no problem. Now, I call you every two months."

"Hmmmm…. so ne."

"…."

"…hmmm… I email you. We check car. I email you cause of problem. …."

"But… why? Did we need to change battery last time? Maybe not battery problem."

"….hmmmm……. problem maybe because no battery last time….."

"Eh? Are you sure?"

"Tssssss….. Hm…. We check car. I email you cause of problem."

*big sigh* I swear, this is all a ploy to keep me from ranting at him.

This car problem has been more than a month in the making. Granted, we were away for two weeks, but the rest of the time has seen us no closer to resolution. So I call the boss and rant at him, since he, thankfully, speaks in Mandarin. However, it seems that after I make the call, I'm still no closer to a solution. That said, I feel better having yelled at this guy. Unfortunately, both Danny and I understand little about cars, so we're a little disadvantaged in this whole bang-table situation.

Anyway, this car situation has gotten me going about Japanese inefficiency. And bureaucracy. My favourite example is how I have to get Danny to sign a Power of Attorney letter in order for me to DEPOSIT a check on his behalf. At an international bank, mind you, not a Japanese one. How silly is that? In most parts of the world, you don't even go up to a teller to deposit a check.

I ranted at my Japanese teacher about this car saga and she told me that we are not alone in suffering. She told me of how it took three service men five different visits to her home over the course of a week to fix her washing machine. She called to yell at the service company. So I ask her, if that many people are pissed, why is service still like that? She had no answer.

So now, I sit here figuring out our next move, and how to avoid what is likely to be a horrific bill.

Why I blog

In the wake of increasing disillusioned online journalists/diarists, as well as laments about the deteriorating quality of blogs (or in Singapore's case, the lack of quality blogs), I realize I never addressed the issue of why I blog.

I blog because we live away from home. Our family and friends are scattered all over the world. I blog for those interested in keeping up with what we do here, and how Sara is growing. Admittedly, the content isn't interesting to those who don't know us in person. It's not meant to be. It's meant to appeal to those who know who we are, and find our stories funny because it's just so us.

I also blog because I'm an exhibitionist by nature. Have always been. Right from the start when my parents were always able to convince me to sing "Courtesy is for Free" in front of friends and relatives, regardless of whether there was any real interest in the first place to hear it. I blog because I like having people know about the little things we do day-to-day, as well as the bewildering things that happen here. And I blog because I'm so damn proud of Sara, even if she's "excellently" average.

I also blog because I like to write. I started a diary when I was 12. I kept it up for the next 12 years or so. I liked the writing part a lot, but I found it made me depressed. I spent too much time go round and round the same depressing thoughts, and it made me even more gloomy. So I gave it up and became a much happier person. A year ago, my friend Rachel had told me about Blogger. In blogging, I finally found a new platform upon which to write, not about my deepest thoughts or reflections, but in a personal enough manner which I enjoy.

And finally, I blog because I love to hear myself talk. Just to air my head to no one in particular – I find it therapeutic. If I didn't blog, I'd have to vent at Danny and boy, he wouldn't find that entertaining at all.

Yosakoi Festival

I had a girlie day out with some friends (and kids) yesterday to watch the Yosakoi Festival in Harajuku. It's basically groups upon groups of people coming together to perform dances which, as far as we could tell, had to include clappers. And that's about it. Everything else was pretty much free-style. Oh, and the music seem to come back to one particular tune more often than not. Funky costumes, funkier music, but pretty much basic dancing. After all, the very young to the very old had to be able to dance it.

Preparing for performance

A little too modern for me

More traditional costume

Not just for the young…

Having a really good time!

Escape from Alcatraz

Not quite, but the freedom is no less sweet.

For the first time in, let's see, a year and a half, I was out strolling alone in the evening, sans man and sans baby. BOTH. Rare occasion that it is, I decided that it was a fine time this warm summer evening to stroll through Harajuku and Omotesando.

After an overly huge dinner alone at the club (no thanks to an oversized sticky toffee pudding dessert which I thought would be a third of the size it came in), I found my way to Harajuku and yay, for once, it was neither teeming with kids nor was it hot. I invariably found myself at the hyaku-en shop (aka 100 yen shop), but also managed to diversify my browsing to the other shops along Takeshita dori, inspecting cheap sunglasses and curious hair accessories. To my dismay, shops in Harajuku close a little earlier than I expected on a Friday night, but no matter, it wasn't as though I was out to buy the whole town up.

Next stop was Gap. Ah, my favourite clothes shop in Tokyo. I like it's Giordano-like style (ie basic, basic, basic) and although it doesn't have Giordano-like prices, it doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Shopping in the likes of Mitsukoshi and Takashimaya here usually means spending mini-fortunes on either overly funky or overly matronly clothes. Usually, it's too ruffly or has too many nooks and crannies to make for simple wear. A top at Mitsukoshi could easily add up to perhaps 5 tops at Zara. And mind you, this is Tokyo's Zara, where prices are multitudes higher than the prices you see in Singapore.

Anyway, browsing through Gap, I realized two things: (A) we're two-thirds into summer (or at least I hope we are) and buying another tank top isn't really a smart thing to do; (B) why spend money now when I can spend even more money next weekend when Banana Republic opens in Roppongi Hills? Hah. Nothing like spending double or more on upmarket Gap clothes. That said, I like the American brands. Simple, no fuss, WEARABLE.

So I left Gap empty-handed and decided to meander home, down through Omotesando, the so-called Champs Elysees of Tokyo. I saw this poster and thought this was some Japanese version of J.Lo, given that "r" and "l" are used interchangebly. I peered past the bright lights and saw the model was Japanese, so I figure it's either an unfortunate coincidence, or a rip-off. Further down the road, we had the Dior building in lights. Burberry's and Louis Vuitton were closing and with the lights off, they looked much less spectacular than usual. Much closer to home, we had the famous Prada building, looking very much like the fishbowl/lens building that it is.

Some 20-odd minutes to home, I ran into a couple of friends who sweetly gave me a lift home in their nifty little sports car. Haven't been in a car that couldn't put a carseat for the longest time. Anyway, it was a blessing not to have to walk that last bit in the heat.

Oh, the car, the car!

The car has once more konked out on us. This is most unfunny since I am in dire need of groceries today, I have to go to the bank and I need to return a couple of videos. To top it all of, it's Typhoon Number-I-dunno-what, so the rain is coming down pretty hard.

What makes this all worse, is that a week ago, the car was so-called fixed. It konked out the day we were to drive to Narita Airport 3-odd weeks ago for our trip to Singapore. Caused me a minor heart attack as I tried to unload the car (filled with too much luggage for the trip) and figure out the next most efficient way to get to the airport, given we only had an hour and a half till check-in time. Anyway, that crisis eventually sorted itself out and as we were sitting exhausted on the plane, I made a mental note to call the fix-it guy when we got home.

So we get back and as planned, I call the guy. Danny and I figured it must be the battery and I told the repairman so. He only turns up a few days later due to Obon (long Japanese holiday), and he shows up with one (or maybe two) other blokes. They poke around the car for some 45 minutes and then proclaim to me that a new battery is needed. Hey, didn't I say that before? Anyway, he also informs me he does not have it and has to order it and it will arrive only the next day, so he has to return to put it in. Groan. So finally, almost a week after we get back the use of our car.

And now, a week later, it's all but died again. What makes me even more mad is that we already suspected the electronics of the car is a little wonky since the dashboard had been doing this disco light thing for a week before the Narita disaster. And of course, I had told him so. But since the car was dead when he saw it and showed no flashing lights when he put in the new battery, nothing was done. So now, we're back to square one. I'm without legs till the guys come and fish the dead car out of the carpark tomorrow and I can only hope it returns sooner rather than later.

In the meantime, I'm still trying to figure out how to get all my errands done in this downpour.

And finally….

Ya-ya.

She's finally learnt how to say her name. Sure, we're a little short in the consonants department, but hey, all the vowels are right.

True to her made-in-Japan roots, she's managed to mix the "r" up with "l" occasionally and we get Ya-la.

Whatever. My baby can say her name. Yay!

Random

I was just reading Rice and Soup's post about lacking direction in life and looking for one's calling. A line from a one-time hit came to mind and I decided to haul up the lyrics and paste them here, just because I like them.Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
- Everybody's free (to wear sunscreen)

I don't have much idea what I want to do with my life, but frankly, time isn't really waiting around for me. While I've been twiddling my thumbs and wondering, I've gone and had a few good years working in a more-than-tolerable job, and had some years mothering. Before long, it won't be particularly relevant for me to be wondering anymore.

In the meantime though, Danny has asked me to think about what I would REALLY REALLY want to do if I were free to go back to work. The only thing I could pin down was, that I don't want to work long hours and that I much prefer to work from home. Not specific, but hey, a starting point. For now, I'm not fussed – I'm needed at home and the option of returning to work, while available, can only be achieved with the single-mindedness of a real career woman. Which I am not. So there.