Tramped around Ion Orchard today with my cello, which turned out to be not a very good idea because the place is freaking huge and the human traffic, even at 2 ish pm in the afternoon, is considerably heavy, especially for the food basement.
The place has a very new smell, like that of unworn shoes, or excessive air freshener in hotel lobbies. The shops are a variation on the same theme of consumerism and creation of endless desires. Everything new, yet nothing new at the same time.
Bored, I wandered to Kinokuniya and bought manga, even though I am still acutely conscious of the fact that my new bookshelf has already run out of space and the comics are still overflowing out of white plastic boxes.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
the stench of entitlement
Walked into a music shop today to get cello supplies and books, and stumbled into a conversation continued by staff members walking around regarding a difficult customer. Didn't think much of it until when I was talking to the luthier (instrument repairer), suddenly he exclaimed "This one!" - to the person manning the cash register.
Dark glances were thrown around the shop like those invisible laser rays you see in movies guarding precious museum exhibits.
I snuck a glance at the lady who brusquely strode in, waving around a violin case (the branded bam, no less), demanding to see the luthier who was caught midway while surreptitiously fleeing.
"I need a chin rest for my daughter", she barked, in a voice that bounced right off the wooden floors and round the shop. Surround sound at the most unfortunate moment. More dark glances were traded.
"Your daughter needs to try it out,", said the luthier in measured tones.
*indignantly* "Well she only finishes school at 645pm...her school is just down the road, SOTA." A pregnant pause ensued, as if she was waiting for applause or some sort of acknowledgement of her brilliant ability of a parent in producing such gifted offspring. Of course, it didn't come, and so,
"What am I supposed to do until then? Just wait?," she loudly demanded.
At 50 ish years old, needing to be told how to spend your free time is just not cool.
Dark glances were thrown around the shop like those invisible laser rays you see in movies guarding precious museum exhibits.
I snuck a glance at the lady who brusquely strode in, waving around a violin case (the branded bam, no less), demanding to see the luthier who was caught midway while surreptitiously fleeing.
"I need a chin rest for my daughter", she barked, in a voice that bounced right off the wooden floors and round the shop. Surround sound at the most unfortunate moment. More dark glances were traded.
"Your daughter needs to try it out,", said the luthier in measured tones.
*indignantly* "Well she only finishes school at 645pm...her school is just down the road, SOTA." A pregnant pause ensued, as if she was waiting for applause or some sort of acknowledgement of her brilliant ability of a parent in producing such gifted offspring. Of course, it didn't come, and so,
"What am I supposed to do until then? Just wait?," she loudly demanded.
At 50 ish years old, needing to be told how to spend your free time is just not cool.
Friday, July 10, 2009
blast
One more day from being parentless in Singapore. Mother's flying to Tanzania to join my dad.
Quite looking forward to it, apart from the lack of food. But heck, any excuse to lose weight is a good excuse.
Quite looking forward to it, apart from the lack of food. But heck, any excuse to lose weight is a good excuse.
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