Miss Singapore/World 2009 needs no one to introduce her. I am going to unleash her to my readers and let her tell you about herself on Youtube.
Notwithstanding her zip-bra preens and how her red bigini goes boomz when she feels the need to be naughty, Miss Low was a bad hat.
According to the local tabloids, Miss Low was found guilty of credit card fraud in May; she was convicted of five charges of misappropriation, cheating using illegally obtained credit cards, and impersonating their users' identifies, and sentenced to 24 months of supervised probation. It went on to say that "it is unclear if Ms Low, crowned Miss Singapore World on July 31, will be able to leave Singapore to take part in the Miss World pageant to be held in Johannesburg in December, for which she will need court permission."
I think the zip-bras in Johannesburg will miss her if she isn't there. And Simba too. And how would one get light in the safari without Miss Low going BOOMZ?
Friday, September 25, 2009
Let me count the ways...
The orthopedic registrar apparently does not think that the bone chip at the C7 is giving me the giddiness and the pains. I was sent for another two blasts of x-rays for my spine and doc has reviewed the slides.
He has come up with a new theory: a prolapsed disc in the neck or a muscle sprain. The better case scenario is the latter as the neck muscle sprain will go away in 6 to 8 weeks and then I should be up and fully functioning again. But if it is the prolapsed disc, I'll have a much longer road to recovery ahead. That's assuming one recovers from a prolapsed disc.
I'm now waiting for an MRI and I'd be damned! The MRI appointments at the hospital goes into the night. I'm scheduled for an MRI at 7.30 pm in a fortnight. The MRI costs a lot and to recover the cost of investment, how they sweat their equipment! Reminds me of the budget airlines.
Physiotherapy is coming up in three weeks and I'm supposed to go for pain relief and hydrotherapy. What do they do at hydrotherapy? Drink lots of water? Swimming? What? Sigh...
One accident and so many things after that...
He has come up with a new theory: a prolapsed disc in the neck or a muscle sprain. The better case scenario is the latter as the neck muscle sprain will go away in 6 to 8 weeks and then I should be up and fully functioning again. But if it is the prolapsed disc, I'll have a much longer road to recovery ahead. That's assuming one recovers from a prolapsed disc.
I'm now waiting for an MRI and I'd be damned! The MRI appointments at the hospital goes into the night. I'm scheduled for an MRI at 7.30 pm in a fortnight. The MRI costs a lot and to recover the cost of investment, how they sweat their equipment! Reminds me of the budget airlines.
Physiotherapy is coming up in three weeks and I'm supposed to go for pain relief and hydrotherapy. What do they do at hydrotherapy? Drink lots of water? Swimming? What? Sigh...
One accident and so many things after that...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Swollen Eye
I think something is wrong. My left lower eye lid/bag is swollen. Looks like I'm hiding a profiterole there...
I'm going to see a doctor tomorrow. I hope it's nothing serious.
I'm going to see a doctor tomorrow. I hope it's nothing serious.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Killing Me Softly...
Spent about two hours in the Changi General Hospital's Accident and Emergency Department's Observation Room when I went over for follow-up treatment last Friday. Immediately on entering the room, I was plonked on an empty bed. There was a patient on my left (Bed 7) and an empty bed on my right (Bed 5). No prizes for correctly guessing for my bed number.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Beds 1, 2 and 3 were empty while on Bed 4 lay this Malay guy who was conscious but hooked to various monitors. He's perhaps in his 30s or 40s and if anything, I'd suspect withdrawal symptoms rather than any real medical emergency. But what would I know.
Bed 7 on my left lay a sleeping guy, possibly a national serviceman, wrapped up in his blanket. I was not sure if he's malingering but I was beyond caring now. I had problems of my own to worry about. Bed 8 seemed to be occupied but the patient was blocked by the mass on 7. Bed 9 was empty. Bed 10 lay this Chinese man who looks like he's from China but I might be wrong. Beds 11 and 12 were empty.
I was waiting for my turn to get my CT Scan done. Right after I was made to lie in the bed, my blood pressure was taken and the nurses manning the OR counter began talking about the age of their new patient and his condition. Yak yak yak...
The nurses woke Patient 7 not long after I was settled in and asked if he could manage to go home by himself. I guessed that was the beginning of the long weekend and the hell he couldn't! So, off he went. I saw the gaunt patient on Bed 8. Bed 10 went up for his scan and I waited my turn, when the machine became available.
Before long, Bed 10 seemed to come back down while I fidgeted, went to the loo, was made to sit on a wheelchair, wait in the wheelchair, wheeled up to Radiology, and got my scan done.
Act 1 was complete when the CT machine fired the last x-rays through my skull and possibly semi-cooking my brains. I was wheeled back to the OR and made to get back on my bed.
* * *
"You must drink water. See, ask you to drink water, you don't want to drink? Today you're back in here again." So goes the son to his father, the patient on Bed 8.
"Yesteday, we came here and you were vomiting. They wanted to put you on the drip and you don't want.
"What can we do now? No point telling me that they use such a big (gauged needle) one on your now, right? Yesterday, if you take, you won't need such a big one.
"You need to drink water. How can you not drink water? Yesterday, when the doctors let you go home, you were told to drink lots of water. But you say the water makes you vomit. Now doctor X cannot do anything for you. God can't do anything for you either.
"Don't worry about anything at home. Everything will be fine. The home will still be there when you go home. You should just stay in here and start drinking water.
"You cannot go home now. See? Even God doesn't want to take you yet. So, how?..."
Apart from some occasional low groans and some raspy, unintelligible sounds, the son persisted on his soliloquy. There was resignation, not anger.
"See? I already take leave today. I got no choice since I have to bring you here. Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Saturday. I don't have to work. And today I take leave to bring you here..."
The battle of making dad drink water was amazing. While I tried to resist turning over to take a look, when sonny left, I sneaked a peek. Old man seemed to be burning. His face is flush reddish purple and his lips were dry and chapped. His eyes were listless as he stared out into the clinically white lighted room, his mouth gaping like a beached goldfish gasping for air.
* * *
"Oh, Mr So-so. I'm your doctor. I've just seen your radiology report. I think you have got a mini-stroke. You know, a TIA..."
Man, I know a TIA. It's short for transient ischaemic attack. I just watched it for the third time on Royal Pains the night before. Oh shit, what if I had a TIA from the car accident...
The patient on Bed 10 must be pretty taken aback. Stroke? How is that possible? He looked perfectly normal. Normal weight range, normal everything.
"Mr So-so, TIA is like a stroke. You see your films? There is this dark region. The blood flow to the area is affected."
I could almost see myself spouting these lines. Man, when I go to the US for studies, I'm going to audition for a role in some medical drama. I could play the role of a plastic surgeon who gets a patient who wants a pair of 38H and midway into the headlights enhancement operation, she had a TIA, wakes up after emergency rescue and decides that, for the sake of her fragile life, she wants a pair of 42L instead. The patient's name? Miss Giant Parts Greenberg. ;)
"We don't know if there is permanent damage. No. You cannot go home. You must stay in the hospital and we need to treat you. We will find out the extent of the blockage and see if you have any permanent damage here.
Such words were not exactly the most comforting to me, since I'm also waiting for the CT scan results.
Doctor turned to Patient 10's wife and asked, "Do you know if he complained of any weaknesses on one side of his body...?"
A poignant Miss Saigon moment descends. I feel walls in my heart closing in, I can't breathe, I can't win...
* * *
I had quite enough by then. Between the time I was sent for the scan and my return, which was less than 15 minutes, the OR room dynamics had changed. There was now a Patient 5 on my right now and he was offered lunch. That junior category senior even asked to see the lunch menu. He really thinks that when the ambulance crew euphemistically call hospitals hotels, they are thus hotels? Crazy.
Patient 1 was an old man/woman - honestly, when you are old and shrivelled up, no one can tell your sex any more - and s/he was sleeping. Or maybe unconscious. S/he is awaiting admission.
Bed 2 was occupied by a huge Indian lady who was to be admitted. When the enrolled nurses asked her to sit up, they asked her, "Can you sit up?" and then asked if the bed, which was supposed to wheel her to her ward, could support her weight. Somehow, after watching Nurse Jackie, I feel strangely comforted.
On Bed 3 was a Malay old man who wanted to be given his painkillers, forget about any treatment and scoot home soonest possible. He looked like he wished to be home, never mind should anything happen to him. I doubt he was of dischargable patient calibre but to subject a senior category senior citizen to more treatment seemed brutal. And what do I know? I'm just an aspiring medical drama quack.
Patient 4 was more sober by then. Maybe they injected a little something into him? I was not sure. By then, I was already pretty much killed inside by the flurry of bad news and the negative vibes.
"Can I leave this place?" I asked the nurses. "I wanna get lunch."
"Do you have relatives with you?"
"No, I came alone. Oh, never mind. How long will this take?"
"About 1 hour."
"1 hour? I can wait. It's just another 15 minutes."
In an environment where it's bad news galore - the sign at the OR entrance
read, "Due to high occupancy, you will only be allocated your bed in the wards when it becomes available," or something to that effect - find an excuse and get out before your heart gives out when your news come.
Still, high occupancy rates in "Cannot Go Home" Hospital? Amazing. Singaporeans must be damned desperate to go there.
As I waited, there was a fresh commotion in the nurses area about how they intend to complain about a staff nurse or doctor who passed disparaging remarks about the hospital. Apparently, the fellow said something like, "No wonder people say Changi is a bad hospital. If I had a family member who was ill and needed to go to the hospital, I wouldn't even send them (sic!)here." And to make matters worse, this utterance was made in front of the public. Apparently, the OR nightingales are going to launch a joint attack on the hawk by claiming that he was out of line, unprofessional and whatever.
Ah, at least some bitching near my comfort levels. I don't know what transpired but the nightingales seemed perturbed enough to say words to the effect that Changi is a great hospital and if any of their loved ones fall sick, they would have no qualms to send them here because of the high levels of care. Oddly, I feel a little more confident, even if Changi is not even on my shortlist for anything.
* * *
1.15 pm. The wait was getting unbearable. The OR was not exactly changing much in terms of patient numbers but there was clearly a need to get rid of bed hoggers. My case came up for review at the counter. A re-triage of sorts.
"This patient looks all right."
"Yah, 29 years old..." - goddammit, there is ABSOLUTELY no one who's 29 in the OR! I'm the youngest and I'm way past 30! - "and the signs are stable. Blood pressure ok."
"Ok, let me call Radiology."
29 years old? Ha! I was 29 once. But how could they work out my age to be 29 when that was half a decade ago?
"Hello, Radiology? A&E OR ah. Can I discharge this patient? We need the beds."
The next thing, I was told I could leave the observation room.
At that moment, I knew there was nothing very serious. But honestly, the lack of privacy in the OR and the deluge of bad news bombarding the patients in the room can rapidly cause anyone to slip into a transient depression. The what-ifs can really be heart stopping and mind blowing.
I quickly bundled out of the OR and went back to the waiting area, where the doctor walked out of his consultation room and asked for another 2 hours to clear my case as the senior enough radiologist wasn't available to countersign on my CT report and a verbal ok from Radiology and from only one radiologist wasn't good enough to get me discharged as an emergency case.
Still, being able to get out of the A&E for a quick lunch and some shopping to remove the negative thoughts and vibes that plague the free mind - despite the giddiness from the mild concussion - can be a little uplifting.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Concussion
Amazing how a bump in the car rear can cause such a big problem. I'm still dizzy and somewhat wobbly. I still have the attention span of a blue housefly. I can't concentrate for too long on anything.
Grading has become a huge chore now. Whereas in the past I could grade 6 papers in one go, grading 3 sides is already pretty remarkable.
The doctor said it is a mild concussion and it should clear. I hope so. This foggy feeling is not exactly my cup of tea.
Grading has become a huge chore now. Whereas in the past I could grade 6 papers in one go, grading 3 sides is already pretty remarkable.
The doctor said it is a mild concussion and it should clear. I hope so. This foggy feeling is not exactly my cup of tea.
Important Dates for a TV Addict
21 September, 25 September and 27 September!
These mark the return of House, Ghost Whisperer and Desperate Housewives respectively.
List of shows this TV addict is religiously following currently:
1. Desperate Housewives
2. Ghost Whisperer
3. House
4. Leverage
5. Royal Pains
6. Nurse Jackie
7. The Mentalist
8. Surviving Suburbia
9. The Legend of the Seeker (Not started watching yet)
10. The Cleaner (Not started watching yet)
11. Fringe (Not started watching yet)
12. Testees (Still trying to get the episodes)
13. Flashing Forward (or is it Flash Forward... the episodes are not out yet)
14. Doc Martin (when I manage to find time)
Other series that I used to follow:
1. The Beast (it got killed in the first season halfway)
2. Dexter (I stopped after it got progressively difficult to clear my own moral standards - I was cheering a serial killer, dammit!)
3. Grey's Anatomy (too much medical drama - something has to go!)
4. ER (I stopped when Channel 5 stopped showing it)
5. Dirt (It got too dirty to watch and the storyline got somewhat stale)
6. Harper's Island (I wonder if there would be Season 2)
7. 11th Hour (This apparently is a one season wonder. Watching halfway)
8. X-files (for a short while)
9. CSI (It got too predictable after an episode, so I stopped watching.)
10. Law and Order (It was too late and I was still a student then)
There must be a whole lot of other stuff out there that I watch but I may not remember the names any more.
What would I do without my idiot box...
These mark the return of House, Ghost Whisperer and Desperate Housewives respectively.
List of shows this TV addict is religiously following currently:
1. Desperate Housewives
2. Ghost Whisperer
3. House
4. Leverage
5. Royal Pains
6. Nurse Jackie
7. The Mentalist
8. Surviving Suburbia
9. The Legend of the Seeker (Not started watching yet)
10. The Cleaner (Not started watching yet)
11. Fringe (Not started watching yet)
12. Testees (Still trying to get the episodes)
13. Flashing Forward (or is it Flash Forward... the episodes are not out yet)
14. Doc Martin (when I manage to find time)
Other series that I used to follow:
1. The Beast (it got killed in the first season halfway)
2. Dexter (I stopped after it got progressively difficult to clear my own moral standards - I was cheering a serial killer, dammit!)
3. Grey's Anatomy (too much medical drama - something has to go!)
4. ER (I stopped when Channel 5 stopped showing it)
5. Dirt (It got too dirty to watch and the storyline got somewhat stale)
6. Harper's Island (I wonder if there would be Season 2)
7. 11th Hour (This apparently is a one season wonder. Watching halfway)
8. X-files (for a short while)
9. CSI (It got too predictable after an episode, so I stopped watching.)
10. Law and Order (It was too late and I was still a student then)
There must be a whole lot of other stuff out there that I watch but I may not remember the names any more.
What would I do without my idiot box...
Friday, September 11, 2009
Too often, we forget
I spent the bulk of my day in Changi General Hospital waiting in the ER to have my leftover symptoms from Tueday's car accident checked out by the doctor. In all, I spent 2 hours at my GP,4 hours in the hospital and the whole day in some form of misery.
Had a CT scan done. Nothing remarkable was observed but the giddiness remained persistent. Doctor thought there might be a very mild concussion. I think so too.
There was nothing much they could do, except assure me that given time, the symptoms might disappear. I'm not so terribly patient. I want the woozy feeling to go away. I hate not being able to concentrate on my work.
4 hours later, I completed my wait in the ER and took a cab home.
Till the day when my head clears up more.
Had a CT scan done. Nothing remarkable was observed but the giddiness remained persistent. Doctor thought there might be a very mild concussion. I think so too.
There was nothing much they could do, except assure me that given time, the symptoms might disappear. I'm not so terribly patient. I want the woozy feeling to go away. I hate not being able to concentrate on my work.
4 hours later, I completed my wait in the ER and took a cab home.
Till the day when my head clears up more.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
So Awful!
After banning So Expensive food court, a few days later, we decided to try out the Singapore Food eating outlets at the end of Downtown East, near the Costa Sands Resort.
Between the two shops, we chose to eat at the outlet closer to So Expensive. It was definitely an AWE-some experience. (Actually, morphologically awful and awesome both come from awe. In other words, awful and awesome ought to carry the similar meaning, i.e. goodness of some sort. For some reason, awful and awesome drifted apart and one became the bad twin (like the Harley-riding, Metro-taking, kid-terro... Oops, I went into too much details now!) and the other the good.)
So, we had coffee and lemon tea, fried kway teow (flat rice noodles) and fried rice. When the drinks came, the coffee was the worst I have ever had. Even good ol' America's worst coffee wins this particular cup by twenty thousand leagues (under the sea or otherwise!). Even Tibet's worst coffee (usually found at hotels' breakfast buffets) wins by the widest possible margin. Or for that matter, I'm not sure if hot water run through a coffee sock deviod of ground coffee beans can be considered coffee.
When I complained that the coffee was awful, the server said, oh, that's our coffee. Too weak? We can give you a little more. She grabbed my cup and replaced some of the contents with more sock water. It is now neither sweet enough nor rich enough. I'm already turning in my stomach.
The lemon tea was awful. I could make better lemon tea from sweaty, rancid T-shirts.
The fried kway teow was nothing like what a Singaporean would eat. It was... all wrong. The sauce was wrong, the ingredients were wrong, the cooking method was wrong. The correct way of cooking does not coat the noodles with a thick layer of grime, the sauce is slightly sweet, slightly spicy, and there is a good "smoky" feel from the hot wok. This version is yucky. You can't avoid the hard work of frying a good plate of noodles by using Chinese bean paste. I'm not born yesterday, you know! There weren't even cockles, a char kway teow essential ingredient, to go with the noodles. For $4, it was entirely unacceptable.
The fried rice was barely passable. But at $4, it is borderline rip-off.
In all, we were slapped with a bill of $10.90. That is a completely reprehensible rip off. I left my coffee undrunk, my noodles uneaten.
And before I left, I congratulated the wait staff. She was surprised until I immediately told it was for serving the worst coffee in the world.
I hope they go out of business soon.
Between the two shops, we chose to eat at the outlet closer to So Expensive. It was definitely an AWE-some experience. (Actually, morphologically awful and awesome both come from awe. In other words, awful and awesome ought to carry the similar meaning, i.e. goodness of some sort. For some reason, awful and awesome drifted apart and one became the bad twin (like the Harley-riding, Metro-taking, kid-terro... Oops, I went into too much details now!) and the other the good.)
So, we had coffee and lemon tea, fried kway teow (flat rice noodles) and fried rice. When the drinks came, the coffee was the worst I have ever had. Even good ol' America's worst coffee wins this particular cup by twenty thousand leagues (under the sea or otherwise!). Even Tibet's worst coffee (usually found at hotels' breakfast buffets) wins by the widest possible margin. Or for that matter, I'm not sure if hot water run through a coffee sock deviod of ground coffee beans can be considered coffee.
When I complained that the coffee was awful, the server said, oh, that's our coffee. Too weak? We can give you a little more. She grabbed my cup and replaced some of the contents with more sock water. It is now neither sweet enough nor rich enough. I'm already turning in my stomach.
The lemon tea was awful. I could make better lemon tea from sweaty, rancid T-shirts.
The fried kway teow was nothing like what a Singaporean would eat. It was... all wrong. The sauce was wrong, the ingredients were wrong, the cooking method was wrong. The correct way of cooking does not coat the noodles with a thick layer of grime, the sauce is slightly sweet, slightly spicy, and there is a good "smoky" feel from the hot wok. This version is yucky. You can't avoid the hard work of frying a good plate of noodles by using Chinese bean paste. I'm not born yesterday, you know! There weren't even cockles, a char kway teow essential ingredient, to go with the noodles. For $4, it was entirely unacceptable.
The fried rice was barely passable. But at $4, it is borderline rip-off.
In all, we were slapped with a bill of $10.90. That is a completely reprehensible rip off. I left my coffee undrunk, my noodles uneaten.
And before I left, I congratulated the wait staff. She was surprised until I immediately told it was for serving the worst coffee in the world.
I hope they go out of business soon.
So Expensive!
The last time we met when she came "home" (it's a difficult concept to explain here), Marlina complained that I am brutal with restaurants that fail to meet my exacting standards. I tried to explain that I'm about as objective as I can be. Still she held her ground. Fair enough. I may be harsh but I am fair.
So, this time, I want to hit out at "Hao Kou Wei" (Good Taste) in Downtown East. It is a foodcourt but man, everything inside there was so expensive (Hao Gui). For those who know how to speak Mandarin, saying hao kouwei quickly will get you hao gui.
From the rice stall, the kung pao chicken had more pieces of chicken skin than chicken meat, the sweet and sour pork had more pork rind and fats than pork; the vegetables were not washed clean and the portions were awfully small.
From the Korean food stall, the uncle is a lascivious scrooge. When he gives side dishes to go with your meal, he believes that giving you one additional anchovy will cause you gout, he believes that an additional kimchi piece will lead you to be unkissable for the entire night.
From the pig organ soup stall, the organ pieces are so small you can floss your teeth with them, the soup is heavily seasoned with MSG so you feel as though the soup is chockful of goodness, the pre-packed food stuff (e.g. meatballs) are boiled to death in the soups to coax every single ounce of articifical flavour out from the ball to the soup.
From the Japanese food stall, what you see is twice what you get. Enough said. From the handmade noodles stall, be thankful for what you can see, cos you almost can't eat anything. From...
Almost every stall exaggerates their portion sizes; the promise is never delivered. After your meal, you just wonder if you have actually eaten. In this regard, that food court has joined the "List of Banned Eating Places".
So, this time, I want to hit out at "Hao Kou Wei" (Good Taste) in Downtown East. It is a foodcourt but man, everything inside there was so expensive (Hao Gui). For those who know how to speak Mandarin, saying hao kouwei quickly will get you hao gui.
From the rice stall, the kung pao chicken had more pieces of chicken skin than chicken meat, the sweet and sour pork had more pork rind and fats than pork; the vegetables were not washed clean and the portions were awfully small.
From the Korean food stall, the uncle is a lascivious scrooge. When he gives side dishes to go with your meal, he believes that giving you one additional anchovy will cause you gout, he believes that an additional kimchi piece will lead you to be unkissable for the entire night.
From the pig organ soup stall, the organ pieces are so small you can floss your teeth with them, the soup is heavily seasoned with MSG so you feel as though the soup is chockful of goodness, the pre-packed food stuff (e.g. meatballs) are boiled to death in the soups to coax every single ounce of articifical flavour out from the ball to the soup.
From the Japanese food stall, what you see is twice what you get. Enough said. From the handmade noodles stall, be thankful for what you can see, cos you almost can't eat anything. From...
Almost every stall exaggerates their portion sizes; the promise is never delivered. After your meal, you just wonder if you have actually eaten. In this regard, that food court has joined the "List of Banned Eating Places".
Kissable Butt
The car's ass got kissed yesterday. Kissed hard! I cannot help but think of this following song, Embraceable You.
Change the lyrics to
Oh kiss it, my sweet so kissable butt
Oh kiss it, you know you so love my butt...
We were stopped in the second right-most lane at the cross junction of Crawford Street (towards Lavender Street) and Victoria Street. There right turn arrow came on to allow cars to turn right but the stupid car in front blocked the lane. So, it looks like we might go straight instead. Rightfully, the driver of this car should not line up in this lane but he did. It is just senseless, when you have two other straight moving lanes on the left. We were in this lane because we were ambivalent on the forward direction but since we are stuck, oh well.
Before we can finish cursing the stupid car in front, and me still in the ready to move off position in my front seat so that I can counteract the forces to overcome the car's move off inertia, we were rear-ended by a SMRT cab. The huge Toyota Crown moving off and hitting a stationary Honda Jazz must be a sight to behold. It was a hard enough bump to throw me forward and then I came back to hit my head against the headrest.
It took me a split second more than usual to realise we were bumped at the back. In fact, the cab driver was already down the car apologizing furiously to my housemate before I got off, hearing him say (in Mandarin) that he was sorry; it was all his fault.
He then offered to compensate for the damages if the cost is below $1000 bucks. Looking at the damage, I think it might be closer to $4000. Well, at least it was a courteous taxi driver we were dealing with and not some ill-bred hooligan.
The short of the long story - we ended up getting checked in the hospital. I was offered an injection for the pain I feel in my neck and back and an injection for the giddiness and nausea. Doc recommended the pain jab and I took it. Then there were x-rays - two at first and then another two more, when Doc determined that the first two could not show the C7 of the cervical spine as it was blocked by my muscles. Eh, got muscles leh. Must have developed them from screaming at kids.
Then, of all things, the second round of x-rays found I have a bone chip at C7. I'm seeing the orthopaedic surgeon in two weeks. Not much choice, it seems. But I think it shouldn't be too troublesome, since I am feeling quite ok.
Had a good sleep last night and today, I'm feeling the soreness all over. Let's just see how this entire episode ends up in the end. The curtain is just lifted and Act 1 (pun NOT intended) is just over.
I'm fine. I just have a lot of papers to grade and I'm sure they will grate. Oh, amen for the painkillers...
Change the lyrics to
Oh kiss it, my sweet so kissable butt
Oh kiss it, you know you so love my butt...
We were stopped in the second right-most lane at the cross junction of Crawford Street (towards Lavender Street) and Victoria Street. There right turn arrow came on to allow cars to turn right but the stupid car in front blocked the lane. So, it looks like we might go straight instead. Rightfully, the driver of this car should not line up in this lane but he did. It is just senseless, when you have two other straight moving lanes on the left. We were in this lane because we were ambivalent on the forward direction but since we are stuck, oh well.
Before we can finish cursing the stupid car in front, and me still in the ready to move off position in my front seat so that I can counteract the forces to overcome the car's move off inertia, we were rear-ended by a SMRT cab. The huge Toyota Crown moving off and hitting a stationary Honda Jazz must be a sight to behold. It was a hard enough bump to throw me forward and then I came back to hit my head against the headrest.
It took me a split second more than usual to realise we were bumped at the back. In fact, the cab driver was already down the car apologizing furiously to my housemate before I got off, hearing him say (in Mandarin) that he was sorry; it was all his fault.
He then offered to compensate for the damages if the cost is below $1000 bucks. Looking at the damage, I think it might be closer to $4000. Well, at least it was a courteous taxi driver we were dealing with and not some ill-bred hooligan.
The short of the long story - we ended up getting checked in the hospital. I was offered an injection for the pain I feel in my neck and back and an injection for the giddiness and nausea. Doc recommended the pain jab and I took it. Then there were x-rays - two at first and then another two more, when Doc determined that the first two could not show the C7 of the cervical spine as it was blocked by my muscles. Eh, got muscles leh. Must have developed them from screaming at kids.
Then, of all things, the second round of x-rays found I have a bone chip at C7. I'm seeing the orthopaedic surgeon in two weeks. Not much choice, it seems. But I think it shouldn't be too troublesome, since I am feeling quite ok.
Had a good sleep last night and today, I'm feeling the soreness all over. Let's just see how this entire episode ends up in the end. The curtain is just lifted and Act 1 (pun NOT intended) is just over.
I'm fine. I just have a lot of papers to grade and I'm sure they will grate. Oh, amen for the painkillers...
Monday, September 07, 2009
Answer to a Question
Someone asked why there was a need to write a thesis statement for an argument. After acknowledging that "the thesis statement will form the fundamentals of (an) argument", he goes on to argue that "this is still not a strong argument,... there must be other reasons that will make us write our own thesis statements instead of just writing a response towards the author's thesis statement."
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
In closing he hopes to be enlightended "on the meaning behind writing ... thesis statements," so that he will be "able to appreciate it." The person goes on to belittle what he learnt. In his own words, "What I am doing now is like following the 'rulebook' that you gave me which I believe I won't be able to learn (sic) beyond the semester. I hope you can help me appreciate writing my own thesis statements."
If this person wishes to impress me by showing that he is a thinking student, then I cannot be more disappointed. To denigrate the importance of the thesis statement to an argument is akin to saying that the foundation of a skyscraper plays no role in holding the building up.
Sure, writing a thesis statement is difficult. Trust me - Singaporeans do not dare to articulate anything that requires them to take a stand. Fence-sitting is our secret past time. That's why human kebabs are what we have. With the big wooden fence stake up their ass, many Singaporeans are stuffed anally. They bitch and complain about the pain but if we tell them to tell me what is exactly they are unhappy about so as to relieve themselves of the stake up their asses, they clam up and say nothing or they literally say "nothing". After growing up in an environment where taking a stand is all frowned upon - trust me, for argumentative compositions in secondary school, teachers still insist on making an ambivalent statement and argue on "both sides of the question" - there finally comes a time when taking a stand is necessary. The first thing many writing teachers have to fight is to teach students to take a stand, and not argue for both sides. (After they can write theses, we take the fight to making them write topic sentences. That'll be another entry, if another question erupts.)
I reproduce my full email reply below:
If I want a summary, I can write my own. If you want to criticise the author, you need to state your boundary and tell me the yardstick against which you are measuring the author before you can criticise him/her. Even then, you still need to explain to me what exactly is wrong with the author's argument, based on your main claim/thesis. For example, I can't possibly throw you out of class for long hair if the university does not have a policy that says "male students with long hair may be barred from class." If the uni has such a policy, you can certainly then test the university's policy (main claim and thesis) and see if they back up their thesis with evidence (i.e. throw you out of class and ban you from returning until your hair is cut). But there is no way the university can do anything to you if they do *not* state upfront their stand/thesis on long hair. One typically can't fight with one's shadow or argue with one's echo.
When there is one reading, it may not seem important that you come up with a thesis to guide your analysis of the article. But if you do not have a new position/view/argument to present on the reading you have done, you will be doing a mere article review. For instance, I can read Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and write a review, telling you what the story is about. Then that review is a mere summary retelling me the story.
But if I argue that Snow White is about the triumph of good (White) over evil (Black), then this is a new perspective that I derive from my reading and I need to defend it. For instance, apart from the fact that SW is fair, there are the seven dwarfs working in the deep dark woods - they are expectedly doing work there and one can argue that they are therefore "reducing the dark parts" of the woods. Extending, these little unsung heroes are slowly chipping away at "evil" and such work is likely to be hard and slow, especially given their small stature. By extension, I would argue that evil is slowly chipped away in a slow and protracted process. Of course, the white knight on the white horse can be another piece of evidence I quote for my argument. Now, can you see the difference between a mere review and an analytical read?
Now, if you read 2 or more readings, then what can you do after reading them? Surely, your readings must lead you to some kind of new insight and perspective. Having the ability to form a point of view separates us from primates, and we develop points of view not just for reading, but for most intellectual activities. For instance, after watching two movies, you may want to compare the underlying themes and make a fresh argument about them. What argument can you come up with after you watch, say, "Iron Man" and "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen"? You can't possibly write me a piece about the two movies where you just give me their plot summaries. Surely, you must have a new perspective. For one, I would argue that "an irony that movie entertainment seems to promote today is the use of violence as an answer to violence." That would be my TS. Someone may argue that "the act of vanquishing evil usually requires the good to resort to the same means as their opponents, thereby making good and evil largely undistinguishable" and have a different TS. Each different perspective adds to the overall picture for anyone interested to know what separates the two movies and how some viewers analyse the same shows.
In any academic pursuit, the thesis statement forms the basis of the argument. In math and sciences, you have laws and theorems that you prove (a form of argumentation) either by theoretical construction (e.g. in Math and some sciences) or experiments and trials (physics, chemistry). Thesis statements therefore can come in many guises but they essentially say the same thing. Yet, they are and can be proven differently, each proof being as good as the other. The Pythagoras' theorem, for instance, has more than 100 proofs (arguments), and all are valid. In this regard, there is no such thing as a "fixed" thesis in science and math, nor are there unique proofs/arguments.
The same observation may be said of theses and proofs in the non-science disciplines, there are many ways of making a case, mostly by alluding to evidence which are in the written or spoken form. Such arguments require interpretation and are considered indirect arguments. Even if you were to let everyone watch Ironman and Transformers and then give everyone the same TS to work on for their essay, you will get as many different essays as there are people. But if well taken, each and every argument is valid.
The thesis statement undergirds the job that you want to do and projects your intended outcome. For example, you cannot make a presentation on a business plan without telling people what your plan will achieve. No one is interested to know what you propose to do unless you tell them first what you can achieve; what your business plan intends achieves is your business thesis statement aka business proposition (yet another fancy name for the same concept). e.g. "Adopting double sided printing for notes to be given out to students will save an office up to 30% in printing costs, mostly accrued from saving extra paper."
Writing basic responses to a reading without making any constructive arguments on how to improve the reading is more similar to the work done in primary schools. That's when basic book reviews were taught. At university level, many basic skills you learn may not seem useful (to you) beyond the course; if it were indeed the case, the course where the skill is taught would have long been withdrawn.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Compassion of Guanyin's Twin
Two student-related incidents stuck out very clearly in my mind since term started three weeks ago.
The first incident relates to a student who gave me the feeling that he was trying to pull wool over my eyes. The student said he could not locate the lab where he was supposed to meet me for writing conference for Assignment 1. He claimed he asked the guards at School X and they did not know either. So he went home. After that, he wrote me an email to ask to see me on another occasion for his Assignment 1.
It is not that I am unreasonable but I faced many internal hurdles to say yes. First, he had my cell phone number. If he were in school, he could have easily given me a call, when he found out that the guards were none the wiser where the lab is. Second, I did tell the class where the lab is. Third, a student who also could not be sure she could locate the lab arrived two hours earlier than her scheduled timeslot. She just completed her "recce" of the lab, she said. I saw her immediately when she arrived, since I could fit her into my schedule. Fourth, I made his classmate call him. I'm not sure if the classmate made the call, but he certainly sent out a message. Fifth and last, he could have called a friend. At the end of it all, I replied with these reasons and told him that if he has one good and honest reason to explain his absence, I would see him.
I am easy. Even an admission that he wasn't in the university and a simple apology would work for me. What I do not want is to accept his lame excuse that he could not find the place. How can it be that of the nearly 50 students I meet, he was the only one who cannot find the place?
The second incident involved students not reading the assigned articles and coming to class unprepared. Their actions culminated in the love letter two entries down. I went to class the day after the love letter was sent out and immediately realised those whom I knew did not read their articles during earlier classes chose seats at the back of the class and in the middle of each seating row, hoping that their relative inconvenient location could escape my prying eyes.
I surprised both classes by telling them I would not throw them out of class that day, since the email went out to them less than 48 hours in advance and that would not be nice of me. However, I told them firmly that on Tuesday next when we meet, if I catch them unprepared, I will humiliate them in class before I throw them out and mark them absent. They have been warned. I know I am giving tough love; the best medicine for them is the bitterest pill. But am I so glad to be such a monster?
In class, I discussed the abridged Toulmin argumentation method and used the love letter as an example to illustrate the argumentation techniques. I think it left them with a deep enough impression, since I taught them how to write excellent stinkers. After that, I took them on a tour of how to dissect the arguments in an article using the technique. While the class enjoyed themselves for that class, I told them that I no longer care if they are Freshmen; if they can't keep up, tough luck.
All in all, I told them I have the as much compassion as of the twin brother of Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy). Many of them knew who I was referring to straightaway.
The first incident relates to a student who gave me the feeling that he was trying to pull wool over my eyes. The student said he could not locate the lab where he was supposed to meet me for writing conference for Assignment 1. He claimed he asked the guards at School X and they did not know either. So he went home. After that, he wrote me an email to ask to see me on another occasion for his Assignment 1.
It is not that I am unreasonable but I faced many internal hurdles to say yes. First, he had my cell phone number. If he were in school, he could have easily given me a call, when he found out that the guards were none the wiser where the lab is. Second, I did tell the class where the lab is. Third, a student who also could not be sure she could locate the lab arrived two hours earlier than her scheduled timeslot. She just completed her "recce" of the lab, she said. I saw her immediately when she arrived, since I could fit her into my schedule. Fourth, I made his classmate call him. I'm not sure if the classmate made the call, but he certainly sent out a message. Fifth and last, he could have called a friend. At the end of it all, I replied with these reasons and told him that if he has one good and honest reason to explain his absence, I would see him.
I am easy. Even an admission that he wasn't in the university and a simple apology would work for me. What I do not want is to accept his lame excuse that he could not find the place. How can it be that of the nearly 50 students I meet, he was the only one who cannot find the place?
The second incident involved students not reading the assigned articles and coming to class unprepared. Their actions culminated in the love letter two entries down. I went to class the day after the love letter was sent out and immediately realised those whom I knew did not read their articles during earlier classes chose seats at the back of the class and in the middle of each seating row, hoping that their relative inconvenient location could escape my prying eyes.
I surprised both classes by telling them I would not throw them out of class that day, since the email went out to them less than 48 hours in advance and that would not be nice of me. However, I told them firmly that on Tuesday next when we meet, if I catch them unprepared, I will humiliate them in class before I throw them out and mark them absent. They have been warned. I know I am giving tough love; the best medicine for them is the bitterest pill. But am I so glad to be such a monster?
In class, I discussed the abridged Toulmin argumentation method and used the love letter as an example to illustrate the argumentation techniques. I think it left them with a deep enough impression, since I taught them how to write excellent stinkers. After that, I took them on a tour of how to dissect the arguments in an article using the technique. While the class enjoyed themselves for that class, I told them that I no longer care if they are Freshmen; if they can't keep up, tough luck.
All in all, I told them I have the as much compassion as of the twin brother of Guanyin (the Goddess of Mercy). Many of them knew who I was referring to straightaway.
The next time you wear it inside out, then...
After the Burgernomics and other crazes used to measure the state of the economy, the spending power of your dollar and others, the Americans have now coined the Men's Underwear Index, which claims that "sales of men's underwear typically are stable because they rank as a necessity. But during times of severe financial strain, men will try to stretch the time between buying new pairs, causing underwear sales to dip."
According to the report, "(men's underwear is) a prolonged purchase," said Marshal Cohen, senior analyst with the consumer research firm NPD Group. "It's like trying to drive your car an extra 10,000 miles."
I can't help but imagine my Yankee friends first wearing undies inside out, then reversing it to wear it back-to-front, and finally wearing them back-to-front inside out. That could get them an extra 10,000 miles, I bet. Or maybe a little more, since he found a couple more possible permutations, say another 25,000 miles. *wink!* (Of course, I should cite my sources - this inside out, back-to-front thingy is a perverted idea from Army Daze. Eh, don't say ew... I haven't suggested - yet - that best friends can swap their...)
But honestly, why measure this underwear thing? It is freaking inaccurate! A foreigner like me just scored around 30 CKs for a friend and I this year. From the US no less! When I was at Macy's and Century 21, most guys buying undies were tourists. Perhaps even before my suggestion, the US guys already know the sweet little secret of getting extended wear time on their joystick covers.
Maybe the US economy is doing worse than it really is. My friends are all complaining about things but a dip in 0.5% in underwear sales doesn't seem much to me. Perhaps an average bra price and sales index might have an even better story to tell...
According to the report, "(men's underwear is) a prolonged purchase," said Marshal Cohen, senior analyst with the consumer research firm NPD Group. "It's like trying to drive your car an extra 10,000 miles."
I can't help but imagine my Yankee friends first wearing undies inside out, then reversing it to wear it back-to-front, and finally wearing them back-to-front inside out. That could get them an extra 10,000 miles, I bet. Or maybe a little more, since he found a couple more possible permutations, say another 25,000 miles. *wink!* (Of course, I should cite my sources - this inside out, back-to-front thingy is a perverted idea from Army Daze. Eh, don't say ew... I haven't suggested - yet - that best friends can swap their...)
But honestly, why measure this underwear thing? It is freaking inaccurate! A foreigner like me just scored around 30 CKs for a friend and I this year. From the US no less! When I was at Macy's and Century 21, most guys buying undies were tourists. Perhaps even before my suggestion, the US guys already know the sweet little secret of getting extended wear time on their joystick covers.
Maybe the US economy is doing worse than it really is. My friends are all complaining about things but a dip in 0.5% in underwear sales doesn't seem much to me. Perhaps an average bra price and sales index might have an even better story to tell...
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Exasperation 4
I have had enough! As I can no longer tolerate any more nonsense during my lessons, I sent out the following as a part of a larger email to my groups.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
Class Conduct
"COURSE X" requires all students to come in prepared for the lesson. During my rounds in class on Tue 1 Sep as well as during the previous few lessons, I noticed many of you came in to class prepared. At least you have read the articles and tried to come in prepared. Thank you and keep up the good work. However, I also observed that some of you did NOT read before coming to class. You know who you are; you were trying very hard to evade detection (especially when I ask for volunteers for class presentations) and were furiously trying to catch up during the discussions. I am not oblivious to your unbecoming behaviour. There is another telling sign of your unprepared state: Your reading is annotation-free. Surely, there are questions that you might have, clarifications that you might need or notes that you can make to remind you of the idea flow of the passage.
Reading and making sense of the assigned readings is the first and most elementary step in a student's preparations. Coming in prepared is also the minimum respect students show themselves, the minimum basic courtesy they show their friends and the minimum effort students put in to being contributors in the group. Given that you are freshmen, I have already given you a two week grace period for you to get used to university life and get up to speed with the demands of university classes. At this point, you have exhausted all the goodwill that I can possibly offer. I HAVE RUN OUT OF PATIENCE AND TOLERANCE FOR STUDENTS WHO COME TO CLASS UNPREPARED.
From the next lesson onwards, students who have entirely annotation-free article printouts and claim that they have read and understood the assigned article shall immediately take the floor and lead the class in the discussion of the article. At the same time, they must be able to answer all the questions that I have regarding the article. If any student is unprepared or if I deem him/her unprepared, the student will be removed immediately from the lesson and may be considered ABSENT. It is my duty to remind that the university's absenteeism policy will still apply.
We can all be very adult when handling matters related to class conduct; if students cannot behave like adults and be responsible for themselves, I will have no choice but to resort to management methods meant for younger students.
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