Monday, September 28, 2009

Infamous

Can't believe this! I was checking my blog tracker and realised I have a lot of visitors from football forum pages. They were particularly drawn to the Chester City section. From the looks of the threads, they were highly amused.

Check them out here, here and here.

To the Chester City fans, *waves from the sunny shores of Singapore*! I was trying to highlight how well equipped your club was. In comparison, the teams in our local football league have much room to improve.

I had a great time at your stadium. It was a unique experience that few of my friends will encounter. Hope I will have a chance to visit again :)

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Chow In Europe '09: Hard Day's Night Edition


I confess that I don't feel a connection to the Beatles. I didn't grow up with their music. (Gimme MJ anyday.) But I still had to go through the memory lane, didn't I? Their influence was legendary! I wanted to feel it for myself too.

An extract from The Time Traveller's Wife:

She looks up. “Henry, who’s your favorite Beatle?” 
“John. Of course.” 
“Why ‘of course’?” 
“Well, Ringo is okay but kind of a sad sack, you know? And George is a little too New Age for my taste.” 
“What’s ‘New Age’?” 
“Oddball religions. Sappy boring music. Pathetic attempt to convince oneself of the superiority of anything connected with Indians. Non-Western medicine.” 
“But you don’t like regular medicine.” 
“That’s because doctors are always trying to tell me I’m crazy. If I have a broken arm I would be a big fan of Western medicine.” 
“What about Paul?” 
“Paul is for girls.” 
Clare smiles, shyly. “I like Paul best.” 
“Well, you’re a girl.” 
“Why is Paul for girls?” 
Tread carefully, I tell myself. “Uh, gee. Paul is, like, the Nice Beatle, you know?” 
“Is that bad?” 
“No, not at all. But guys are more interested in being cool, and John is the Cool Beatle.” 
“Oh. But he is dead.” 
I laughed. “You can still be cool when you’re dead. In fact, it’s much easier, because you aren’t getting old and fat and losing your hair.”

Cos of this excerpt, I paid more attention to Paul and John in all the memorabilia. And Paul was so cute. Always great at making the cutest expressions. Now... I think he looks like a chikopek.

It's sad how age catches up with us.

Anyway, back in Liverpool, we took a trip down their past, where they began.


We visited the pub where they first started out and got the attention of their manager.


And bought some collectibles.

Okay, I'm not elaborating anymore. Running off to the Padang to meet the BSB (my Beatles) now!!

Saturday, September 26, 2009

French Kissing

The beautiful French like to kiss and hug on the streets.

I like that very much. I'll do that more often - just being French :)

Chow In Europe '09: Football Crazy Edition

UK is a football crazy nation. It spawned a highly profitable industry.

I was very lucky to catch 2 live matches during my short stay in Liverpool. I'm a MU supporter. Stepping into the home ground of our bitter rival is considered blasphemy. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to catch an MU match as they were in Turkey for an away game. So had to make do with Liverpool's game. Still it was un-missible - a real live British football match.

By the way, my boo is a Liverpool fan. So it was a dream come true for him.

Before the game, we were invited as VIP guests to a match played by teams in a lower division. Even our local host didn't know which division they belonged to. The game was in the neighbouring town of Chester.

A small team like Chester City FC already has an actual stadium, full fledged VIP pampering service, complete with regular programme booklets and full-time working staff and footballers. The footballers from such a small team earn about 3000-4000 pounds a month. That's why every boy wants to be a professional footballer. If luck strikes, they will propel to super stardom. If not, they can still earn a decent income comparable to normal executives.

As I said, football is big business in UK.

The game ended 2-1 to the home team. They have actual supporters who buy season tickets to their matches okay? Maybe in 20 years' time, they can reach the ranks of the English Premier League.


Dean Saunders, ex-Liverpool player, Chester City fan

The next day, we visited the Liverpool megastore in the local shopping mall. Fans from Hungary were pouring in to watch their team play Liverpool that evening. They visited the store too. Many mocked at the shop by posing outside with their team's gear. So did I. Harmless rivalry is fun, eh?

After paying for a mountain of merchandise, it was time to proceed to Anfield.

And so, Liverpool scraped away with a 1-0 win. Not the most impressive performance but the stadium atmosphere was still overwhelming for a first timer.

Since there was no chance to have a good look at the stadium that evening, we made a trip back the next morning. Torres was supposed to do a book signing that afternoon. But we couldn't stay cos... I was going to Old Trafford in Manchester - just a half hour drive away!


There was no game going on, of course. But I was elated to just step on the soil and visit the merchandise store. Unfortunately, we wasted some time finding the way, I only had 30 minutes to shop. I dashed around grabbing stuff into my arms until it was time. The guard genially shepherded me to the cashier, calling me "my love".



Whee!

We were scheduled to leave the next day. Our host gave a tip - wait at the gates of the Liverpool's  Melwood training ground before 9am, the football stars reporting for training might just stop and sign autographs. They were more accommodating to overseas fans.

And we did just that, in the cold morning wind. Looking like idiots.

After numerous flashy cars whizzed past, including Gerrard, Carragher and Benitez, we could only give up. And we proceeded to the train station for the next leg of the trip.

The last picture was Steven Gerrard in his car, by the way.

And that's the full account of the biggest highlight of the holiday :D

Stephie's Shop Project

As a favour to Wanqing, Baby and I did a series of photoshoot. You may see more at her blogshop. All the clothes displayed are for sale. You may access her blogshop here.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Things I Did On A 12-Hour Flight

SIN >> LHR (London)
  1. Watched The Proposal
  2. Watched Angels and Demons in Italian
  3. Tried to read book that I brought along, failing to complete 5 pages at any one time
  4. Doodled in notebook
  5. Read over neighbour's shoulder - Guide to London
  6. Ate 2 in-flight meals + 3 sandwiches
  7. Napped

CDG (Paris) >> SIN
  1. Ate 2 in-flight meals + 1 bun
  2. Completed The Lost Symbol
I didn't realised it then (until I passed by a billboard - see photo below) but I grabbed The Lost Symbol on the day of release at a bargain! Only 12 pounds! It's selling at $48 here (pre-book price $36). One of the best finds of the trip :D

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

The Case Of The Broken Vase

The Mystery
Yesterday morning I went to work and saw that my notebooks and papers were soaked; my desk was wet. Tracing the source of the water, I realised that my vase was broken into 2 pieces. It was still standing but a bottom corner was slightly "detached" from its body, explaining the leak. Before I noticed that my desk was wet, I actually thought that my flowers were very thirsty and drank up all the water over the weekend.


The Queries
  1. When did it happen? Friday night? Saturday? Sunday or Monday morning?
  2. Who broke my vase and pretended to put it back? He/She did not even bother to dry my desk!
  3. There was no reason for anyone to approach my desk unless he/she intended to wreck havoc. The flowers and the vase were from my boo. Who then, bore such hatred for me?
  4. Why did the vase break at the bottom? If it was dropped or knocked into, wouldn't the top part chip instead? Unless it was dropped vertically on its base.


The Witness
The cleaning auntie was the only one who would touch my desk, to pack my papers and wipe the table. She said that on Saturday, the vase was still intact. But she did not see the coward who not only broke it, he did not dare to admit (or clean up after him).


The Theories
  1. The cleaning auntie broke it but didn't dare to admit.
  2. Someone was fooling around with a netball (inter-department Captain's Ball competition was coming up) and accidentally knocked the vase with the ball. And kept quiet about it.
  3. I had a secret admirer who went berserk when he saw the flowers from my boo. Fondness became hatred which turned into violence. He then fled the scene.

The Conclusion
Each of the above was as unlikely as the next mainly because of the evidence left behind. My vase was not some expensive antique and I am an amicable person. There was no reason for the culprit to be afraid to own up or at least clean up the water.

And then, I had a stroke of brilliance.

Did you notice that the weather was very erratic over the weekend? It was super hot, then super chilly during the rainstorm. The vase must have been subjected to the sudden change in temperature. And it broke.

This would explained why the 2 pieces were so neatly placed together, and why my papers were left to soak in the water. If it was an accident, a normal person would be frantic about saving the documents, wouldn't he?

The vase was pretty thick. It could be that the outside surface contracted but the inside couldn't adjust in time, resulting in cracking and eventually breaking.

Oh man, what a genius! Call me Detective Chow!

But all of the above were just deduction. The only thing that was certain - the vase has become useless. And I cut my finger on the broken glass.


The End