Bad English... in continuation

I am feeling "guai lan" today. I shall henceforth communicate to you in "bad English" since all it takes is that you "understand" what I am saying, no?

Bad English

"This annual fee is waived perpetually, as long as you remain a member."

Yes, I understand the sentence and the intention - but it is "bad English". How can something be 'perpetual' if it is conditional? It should be: "This annual fee is waived for as long as you remain a member."

No, you said, "Language is about getting the message across too, not just the technicality of it."

But, dahhhling... the message itself is having problems getting across because you have CHANGED the meaning of the word "perpetually".

Seriously, what is the point of asking for my opinion if you have no intention of doing anything about it - because you have already decided. You asked for my opinion; I gave it to you - because you wanted it. It would have been no matter to me if you did not want to make the correction - I even told you as much (so you would not feel "obliged" to make the correction). But it mattered the moment you tried to persuade me that a correction was not needed AND I was just being pedantic - and you only wanted me to agree with you.

Perhaps I should not have put it so bluntly: "It is BAD English."


It is bad English.

Out of the blue

Just got back to blading and yoga after a month's rest; and I can still do a good Utktasana :-)

As a matter of interest, the chamber treatments came up to some $6410 - everything was covered by DAN, which also paid the clinic directly. (I cannot wait to see my premium for the renewal - if I am certified fit to dive again.)

The song

When Doves Cry by Prince? Or Naughty Girl by Beyonce?


"...two bottles of "lovely chee a lien wine..."

3 weeks


Resetting the counter. Because.

Someone's dotty aunt needed her "fix" (fix???). But seriously, the links on the left are a better bet.

And to see if the "magic" (magic???) is still there.

You wanted to know

DCS is decompression sickness, or the bends. It has not been a pleasant experience. It still is not - though the aches have subsided and will go away. 'Nuff said.

In the meantime, I have been trying not to do anything that will kill me - really kill me for good this time. So, instead of hot yoga (extreme temperature changes are bad for the bubbles) and blading (any physical exertion is bad for my already oxygen-deprived body), I have found a safer alternative in mumblemumble-dance class, and some distraction in Bridge, Uno, Settlers of Catan (a board game which is a less sophisticated version of PC strategy games but no less entertaining), Taboo (and discovered that I am quite good at lateral thinking), movies and a lot of sleep.


It seems that one of our articles was picked up by The New Paper and they would be doing their own story about the writer's rather interesting hobby. And he did not even have to take off his clothes to justify space in the local papers. Not bad, eh? (Though, if he really did bare it all, I can imagine a number of people would go blind.)

In retrospect

"Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life."
~ Steve Jobs

Inspirational words indeed. Culled from Aberwyn, who, by the way, offered to lay off the ciggies when we have breakfast at the Gardens this Saturday - because he is worried about making me sicker. Awwww. So sweet. (But I am not sure if that might just make HIM sicker instead. Heh.)

"Shirt & Tie"

It was unexpected. And the notice was a little short - to find something nice to wear, that is. It would have to be something off-the-shelf. Or shoulder - all the better to rub them raw. Nudge Val-halal. Wouldn't you say?

Anyway, why is it that the dress code often refers to the men only? How many practical options does a man have for a formal dinner, that he needs to be told - especially since it is only "shirt & tie" (not even a jacket). Surely, no one, however laid-back or sloppy, would show up in anything less. Better to over- than under-dress, no?

I would have thought the evening called for more attention to the dress code - for the women too. Even a general "formal" (to be fair, the range of formal wear for women is too varied to be more specific) would have been better than this understood and accepted, but nonetheless strange, omission. And by this omission, the woman is expected to take her cue from the man - as if she were only an accessory to him; even if she had been invited in her own name and not as the Mrs-attached-to-the-name-of-her-husband.

Or maybe, women have a more developed sense of social etiquette and they do not have to be told like men do. Heh.


"What time do you go to work everyday? What time do you come home? Only Monday to Friday?"


The father was unhappy because his young son's treatment had started slightly later (about 20 minutes) - the patients in the earlier session were late. He was unhappy with the tardiness and nonchalance of patients and doctors alike with appointments, and he was tired of having to wait all the time. "In the States..." He thought something could be done but the system must not allow it to continue to happen by accommodating late arrivals and pushing back everyone else's appointments; late comers should simply be told to return another day. "In the States..." When told that some of these patients could not afford to have their treatment delayed, like diabetics whose limbs could be saved with chamber treatment, he said that maybe a few people had to lose their limbs before everyone appreciated the importance of punctuality.

What kind of asshole person - and one whose son needed the chamber because of cerebral palsy - says things like that?

Ginger Girl

This is to remind CirCe to blog about her latest find.


"This entry was written just so that I could have an entry dated 1 June 2005."

The Chamber

I will be spending the whole of tonight at the Hyperbaric Medicine Centre at Tan Tock Seng Hospital.

Because I have DCS.

Half the year is not quite over yet and more than half my body is already falling apart. I just can't seem to avoid having to see the doctor every other month or so for some bodily malfunction. (As if I don't already see enough of them five days a week.) I can't wait to see which other parts of my body decide it's their turn to malfunction next.

Counting down to 1730 hours...