How Do You Solve a Problem

Like Nervous Nancy.

Seems she takes just about everything casually. And I think it's time we put a stop to that. Isn't that casual attitude being carried just a litle too far these days? Seriously. Better to be overdressed than underdressed! Dressing in a cheap tee, tattered shorts and neon-coloured crocs for a day out can only be acceptable at a beach party, a night market - or if a recent disastrous fire has razed all your belongings.

Otherwise, no.

Gracious. Might as well strut about on the streets in ratty pyjamas.


How times have changed.
See what this apathetic insouciance has led to? Even weddings have become way too laid-back. At least for our unconcerned Nancy.

With a wedding set two months from now, she has neither invitation cards nor a guest list. Hell, she doesn't even have a proper venue for the momentous event.

Nancy : Oh, I'm sure I'll be able to find a decent table.
Paul : In your hometown? I seriously doubt it. Unless you're keen to toast to your wedding with teh tarik at a mamak stall? Maybe send instant messages to your guests for the place.
Nancy : Not that bad mah. You think I should get my dress done too?
Paul : At this rate, the only ensemble available for you should be the ones reserved for runaway teenage pregnancies and one-night-wedding skanks.

Isn't she in need of a proper lesson in marriage etiquette? Where have all the wickedly proper mothers-in-law gone? Have they all died out leaving me with the only specimen left?

I know folks are getting casual these days but it's getting a tad ridiculous when a hurried engagement's cobbled together in a couple of weeks. What happened to making the wedding day a once-in-a-lifetime event? A beautiful memorable occasion to be enjoyed by all?

Seriously, if it's such a bother why go to all that trouble anyway? Why not just stop off at the city hall on the way to work and purchase a certificate from the marriage machine?

And they say it's the gay men sullying the institution of marriage. Think again.

Pass Thirty and Collect $500

Marching inexorably into your mid-thirties is far from a reason to celebrate. Just about everything's starting to sag, your vaunted metabolism just isn't what it used to be and that sexy barista you just flirted with could be young enough to be a ... nephew.

Short of having shockingly premature sexual intercourse - or indulging in pedophilia, I couldn't possibly be lusting after someone young enough to be my son.


Nephew mine?
But thankfully there are some perks that come with age. Career-wise, it couldn't be better. We're finally up there - not at the top yet somewhere right smack in middle management - and we're rightly able to stroll nonchalantly out of the office without a nervous qualm. Notice I said stroll out and not sneak. Certainly no reason for furtiveness when everyone else on the floor depends on you for that all-important year-end bonus.

At least that's true for my more fortunate ( and not medically-inclined ) peers.

So there you have my ISO, the Beercan Boy and me. Carousing over brunch at barely 11 am on a full working day.

My ISO : It's your birthday but there's something even more momentous. Beercan Boy actually crushed an assistant.
Paul : Tell me more!
Beercan : No, I didn't! I just told her that her work needed improvement.
Paul : Ouch.
My ISO : Yes, from you that's a major spanking.
Paul : That's like me saying 'If you don't get better, you can take an extended leave starting tomorrow.'
My ISO : Or 'Buck up bitch,' from me.

Seriously. Beercan has a personal assistant. When did we get here along the way?

Lego People Watch

I like to people watch.

With my seriously antisocial behaviour, I might not be a people person but I still like observing. Watch folks in a bus and imagine how they relate to each other. Or even a lovey-dovey couple doing their weekly shopping in a supermarket. Immediately I'd concoct an entirely improbable story based on their looks, their immediate closeness and the varied contents of their shopping basket.

Hell, one devious suburban witch even hatched plans to cook up an enormous turkey dinner for her cheating husband with a side dish of caesar salad and arsenic-laced wine.

So you can imagine the complex storylines behind my mini Lego street. And yes, I do mean street. Still don't have enough for an entire city unless you count my sadly tragic population of only 9.


Wonder what's gonna happen to us today!
First on the row you have a navy blue apartment complex with the prerequisite gay couple living on the first floor. One fella's a blue-blooded physician from the city ( obviously! ) who's come to hang up his shingle in this inconsequential lil hamlet. Lower ground floor has been converted into a doctor's office. His better half's a zen-like elementary school teacher who's actually secretly a retired secret agent.

Yes. Secret agent.

He also publishes the town paper but that's another story.

Then there's the moody artist in the attic who paints his 'French women' on his balcony on weekdays and spends the weekends drinking it up with his best friend, the doctor.

Occasionally their weekend get-togethers are joined by the grouchy owner of the grocery store next door. Despite plying the skintflint shopkeeper weekly, they still don't get much discount for the fresh vegetables though.

Then you have the antagonistic yet loving father-daughter combo running the auto shop half a block down with the younger slacker son running deliveries for the pizza deal next door. Of course the expert chef making pastas and pizzas - who mastered cooking at the knees of her blessed Italian mama - has the hots for the shy but devastatingly handsome bus driver who comes by every morning for his coffee.

And I've got my Market Street by the way.

Suzhou Courtyard

Sitting reading poetry in a courtyard under the glow of moonlight with a cup of green tea. Bamboo leaves being rustled in the late evening breeze. Just short of the classical robes of a Ming Dynasty scholar, I certainly would not have looked out of place in a historical Chinese drama.

If not for the iPod at my side playing jazz by Buble. Unfortunately I don't have any suitable guzheng music downloaded! ALthough this would have been perfect.


What can I say? The Sung Dynasty poets have it right. Even now, there's a heaven on earth and that's in Suzhou. 上有天堂下有苏杭. Even second time around, it hasn't lost any of its quaint charms. Tranquil classical gardens with narrow cobbled streets and slow meandering canals. Little market shops peddling wares much as they have for hundreds of years ( though now probably mass-produced by the fantastic Made in China factory ).

No surprise it took a surprisingly modern high-speed train only minutes to traverse the distance between Shanghai and Suzhou. Something that probably used to take days by horse and palanquin now takes little less than half an hour.


Whoa. I think we have come to the right place!
To suit the spirit of the occasion, we registered online at an old-fashioned inn situated by an ancient canal. A place that far exceeded our expectations.

Our rooms were situated in refurbished wooden apartments hidden right at the back in a private courtyard. Seriously atmospheric. Just think back to every historical Chinese drama you've ever seen with white-washed pavilions, classical rock gardens and bamboo outcrops. Half expected battling wuxia fighters to come flying down from the blue-tiled rooftops.

Fortunately it all came with the basic modern amenities. Wouldn't appreciate such scenery if it didn't come with indoor plumbing.

Messages off the Bund

Electronic mail. Instant messages. And now twitters.

Seems like the more advanced technology gets, the more distant we get from each other. And yet we try our best to connect with the increasingly sophisticated means available to us. Without the usual communicative nuances present during a face-to-face conversation however, quite a lot can be miscontrued through such electronic devices.

Case in point, our wandering sea urchin Lissome Lorelei who tries her best to maintain contact with her prince waiting by the distant shore. Daily messages and nightly phone calls are the best she can do since she's stranded miles away from him. Despite ( like all her mermaid ilk ) having a morbid fear of commitment, Lorelei has defied all expectations by remaining steadily landbound in his castle for quite a while.

Last I heard she's even considered buying new tiles for the castle ramparts. With no talk of stealing away for the deep blue sea.


Lorelei : I see the sea. Maybe I could make a run for it.
Paul : Not on your life, missy.
So much so that we've started teasing her about connubial bliss. Could it be that our naiad has given up her roaming nomadic lifestyle? If only we'd known that our jests could turn out to be shockingly prophetic.

Lorelei : Oh My God. Look at what you guys did!
Paul : What happened?
Lorelei : See this message. See what he wrote.
Paul : Oh My God. Is that a proposal? He wrote.. 'It says you're engaged.'
Lorelei : Engaged! Married! I wanna see the world. Up where the people are. I wanna see, wanna see 'em dancing.

Obviously she went to her happy place.

Seriously though. Our little sea urchin was this close to leaping impulsively into the Huangpu and making for the wide open sea. Practically had to jump to hold her down before she could make her hasty escape from the Bund.

Since they've been walking out for just a while, it wouldn't surprise me if her young prince felt the same. No wonder his immediate reply came just a brief second later stating that it was sent by accident. Can already imagine him slapping his forehead in horrifying dismay after mistyping the information.