Blogging fears

Sometimes, I fear that I get too honest on my blog.

I don't want to end up like Otto Fong, who was forced to close down his blog after his student chanced upon his page on his thoughts on being a gay. I think that's really sad.

I don't know, but blogs are diaries aren't they? As you get more 'intimate' with blogging, you can't help but start to type your genuine thoughts, like my thoughts on teaching. It's so stupid to start an online diary and yet not say what you have on your mind. Or perhaps there're too many grey areas. I do agree that we ought to be 'professional'. When I first read about Otto Fong's incident, I did agree that perhaps he shouldn't be so upfront about his sexual inclination since he's a teacher. But well then, if a teacher who is of an ordinary profession can't reveal his sexual orientation, who can? A writer perhaps - since he works in isolation? And what's the point in making diplomatic, obedient entries when this is supposed to be your thoughts in manisfestation?

Sometimes, I find myself getting too enthusiastic about updating my blog with pictures.

But I don't develop them. I take too many pictures it's become unrealistic to develop them all. But I do want to show them, to God-knows-who, and myself. I find myself getting more daring when it comes to blogging. It's worrying. One day, this blog might end up on my boss' computer screen and it'll be hard not to be upset with me over my opinion and views on my job.

I think it's exciting to know what kind of search renders your blog uncovered. Most of the time it's Home Decor Survivor. One of these days, Mediacorp might approach me to get me to take down what I entered for the show, especially the defects of the furniture.

Sometimes, I worry that someone I know might chance upon my blog.

I don't like to air dirty laundry in public, but my blogs have almost all the records of my unhappiness in my marriage. It will make me vulnerable to public and private scrutiny if someone I know decides to share my blog with mutual friends.

Sure. I can make my blog private by not disenabling the search option, or putting a password on my blog.

But I like sharing my thoughts with strangers. I find safety in sharing my secrets with people I totally don't know.

If you chance upon my blog, keep it to yourself, so that I can continue to share my deepest thoughts with you.

Pay revision - how true is it?

I must say I'm very glad that I got the a.m. session next year. And P3 at that. And two classes to teach in all! I've never had such a good deal since I started teaching. Imagine being dumped into a timetable of 8 classes, teaching 6 subjects when you're all new and green. It's definitely going to be an easy time for me. :)

The news has it that teachers' pay revision is going to be upward. However, upon learning that it's going to be 'performance-based', most of us know that it's bad news. It'll just encourage more backstabbing and politics. And it's not going to help teachers become better in teaching, or more 'effective' - the buzz word on one of the forums.

I'd thought perhaps the pay increment would be pegged to the academic qualifications instead of the fixed rate for all grads. Very disappointed with the news actually. But I've already prepared myself: when the news concerns teachers alone, it's never going to be good news.

To think I went for a degree so that my pay increment will stop being so pathetic. I'll only have a graduate increment once, before the pay revision kicks in in April 2008. Sometimes it's hard not to think that you're a jinx in the workforce when everytime you start working, something bad happens.

I still remember when I finally decided to start holding a decent office job back in 1999. The government initiated the 10% cut in the employer's CPF contribution just before I got my first pay. The 20% employer's contribution is never quite reinstated since then.

After I graduated from the Dip Ed program and about to start working, and earnestly anticipated the one-time increment from an untrained to trained teacher, the economy was met with the 'Economic Crisis'. We had a wage-freeze. Only a nominal increment was given.

I went for my degree. Finally, when I emerged from the program victoriously, envisioning that fixed increment that I will get forever and ever, the government wants our pay increment to be pegged with our 'performance', when we all know that 'performance' is just a smoke screen for the politics game.

It's hard not to think that you just don't have the luck with money. I know I don't have the 'career line' on my palm, but I've never quite believed in it. Or perhaps, subconsciously, I do believe in it and that's why my fate is so.

It's frustrating, definitely.

Christmas 2007

We didn't manage to attend any Christmas service. By the time we reached Lighthouse Woodlands, it was bursting with people. Even the basements were fully occupied. So we went to catch the movie 'National Treasure' instead. Cliched but entertaining nonetheless.

This year, we went to my fifth sister's place for our Christmas dinner.

Nevertheless, this is our Christmas tree. We just added a few gold coloured ornaments on top of the purple ones we bought last year. I experimented with the Scenes in the camera and found that the Aquarium mode made the tree look most romantic and glam:

The Christmas tree at my fifth sister's place (with lots of presents under it):

The spread (bbq chicken wings, satay, fried bee hoon, honeyed cheese bacon, sushi, agar-agar made by Coco, logcake):

The people:

(from left: Coco, Shan, Dawn, Me, Ma, Na, Qing, with Xavy at the bottom)

The sisters (with 'glowing' faces):

The kids:

Dawn & Bro:

Melvin & Qing:


Mother & me:
Father & me:

The kids with their presents:


The kids waited for a long time before they could open their presents. Xavy cried after he'd asked to open his presents for the umpteenth times (poor thing!). When they finally unwrapped their presents, smiles were all over them.

('Santa gave me this present!!! I wrote my wish on a wishing star that I would get this!')Before she slept, she asked me, and rationalised at the same time,"How did Santa break into the house? If he breaks into the house, then he's like a burglar."

Sentosa

Ever since the weather becomes sunnier, we've been out almost every day. :)

We went to Palawan Beach on Sunday while the weather was good in the afternoon because that was just the beach Coco would like to go.

We took the Sentosa Express from Vivo City to Sentosa. It's ticketed at $3 per pax, as long as the child is above 3 years old. While I applaud at the accessibility and convenience the Express skytrain (at least it appears to me as a skytrain like what you have at the airport) provides, I am not impressed with the way they organise the crowd. We queued up for the train, but when the train was about to come, they got crowds from behind to come up and squeezed with us so that we could all squeezed into the first cabin. 'Squeezed' is the right word. They had to pack the skytrain until it looked like a sardine can before they started it off. There were only a few pathetic seats in the train and the handgrabs were too long. The trip wasn't as smooth as what I'd imagined either. I thought technology advancements would have taken place in the Sentosa Express but apparently it's not so. It's a slight improvement from the skytrain at the airport, if there is any at all. I haven't been to the airport for years, so that's the impression I got from taking the Sentosa Express. It simply reminded me of its slower counterpart at the airport. But still, because of the availability of this train, we'll definitely be going to Sentosa more often (like once or twice a year). After all, the trip would only entail alighting at Harbour Front MRT, going up to Vivo City Level 3 and taking the Sentosa Express. Very convenient I must say.

While waiting for the tickets to be purchased, I took a pic of Coco with some really creatively sculptored balloons at Vivo City:

Coco enjoying the water squirts at the water area, as usual:

Sembawang Park

We went to Sembawang Park today.

I had thought that it would be very remote, deserted with very few people. To my surprise, there were lots of people. It's a small park by the beach, but there were many tents. Apparently, these people had the intention of camping overnight. Many were fishing. Loads of children were at the beach, the fantastic playground (in my opinion). Some kids were skating, others were flying kites. Many were barbecueing. Loads of activities. It's definitely full of life. Most of the visitors were Malays though. It's as if Chinese are the minority.

Although there's a beach, it cannot be compared to the East Coast beach. It's small, badly polluted - we found a dead starfish and a dead crab by the water. Probably because it's just beside a shipyard. Most parts of the water edge were dirty, with lots of rubbish: broken pieces of glass, tomato sauce bottlecap etc.

We went there by bus 882. The intervals for each bus trip are rather long - at least 15 to 25 mins - as the place is not exactly very popular. I thought it quite a shame because it could become a mini East Coast Park if the beach is cleaned up nicely. There are some really soft sand at some parts of the beach. It's possible to have a picnic at the beach, with the kids playing with the sand there. In fact, we have the intention of doing just that the next time Coco asks for a picnic or a trip to the beach. The playground with steep slides and swings is a bonus. Hopefully the next time we go there, the playground will still be a playable ground.

Coco enjoying herself at the playground:

Scary dreams

I keep getting scary dreams these few months.

Some months before, I kept dreaming about someone trying to rape me.

Recently, I keep dreaming about escaping. Not necessarily me doing the escaping. I dreamt that two women were trying to escape from some people who were trying to harm them. And they went into this machine, supposedly an oven that makes sausages. They were sure that the machine was dormant and they wanted to escape through the oven. But halfway through, the machine started working, and both of them went through the process of being floured, splashed with water, and eventually a heat rush. Before the dream ended with the two of them thrown into a huge pile of sausages, the younger girl turned around to give me a look of utter dispair and seemed to blame me for not helping her.

I woke up frightened.

To do or not to do ...

Recently, I've been having thoughts about going for a Master.

It all started when Joyce, my friend-cum-colleague, asked me if I was interested to go to a Master degree briefing at NIE. She told me that the Master was obtainable via coursework alone. I was keen because I prefer doing coursework than research. However, I was daunted by the timeframe: 3 years. By the time I get my Master, Coco would have been in Pri 5. I would have missed out on most of her primary school life.

I went to NIE website and realised that there are two other routes to obtain a Master: evening scheme and research based. I was intrigued with the research based one because the timeframe could be as short as 1 year, which is highly enticing (but I later learnt from Amjad that it's very tight for research). However, I'm very worried about the presentation seminar and the need to pass a confirmation test. On top of all these, I'm not a research person. But I thought this programme is more 'exclusive' because the entry requirement is quite stringent - applicants need to have at least a Second Class Upper for the basic degree.

I'm not sure what I should do. Personally, I've always done badly in school until my NIE days. I really would like to see how far I can go if I aim high. It's not for the qualifications. It's more for personal achievements and accomplishments. Since young, my family had always labelled me as 'stupid'. It has adverse effects on me. It was my personal belief that I was stupid and unteachable. I never dared to aim high for fear that if I worked hard and yet failed, I would really be a living proof that I'm stupid. Until now, I do believe that I'm never clever, but I do work hard.

Now that I'm given opportunities to study, I cherish them more than the average person. I would like to see how far I can go despite my stupidity. But I've Coco to think about. I'll be short-tempered and unavailable most of the time if I go for the programme. William will definitely not be supportive. He doesn't like his wife to hold higher qualifications. Ridiculous as it may sound, he's worried that I may look down on him next time.

I suppose whatever my decision is, my priority needs to be Coco. She's a gift I brought to this world. I can't sacrifice her for my want or need.

Jacob Ballas Children's Garden

After reading my friend's blog and finding out that there's such a place, I went to Jacob Ballas Children's Garden with Coco. The weather was great - exceptionally sunny after days of raining.
The Garden's not as impressive as what the website makes it out to be. Perhaps the 'highlight' of that place is the water area. It's the only area alive with children. Coco enjoyed herself very much there, so much so that when I asked her to leave, she shook her head at me and turned away to continue to play. She had to ask a stranger to give me a call when she realised I was missing. That'll teach her not to ignore me when I say it's time to go.

Loads of kids at the water squirts:

I thought it's quite thoughtful that the design of the Garden is very kiddish yet refreshing. Even the Kidz Cafe consists of little children's furniture and sells club sandwiches and kids' finger foods (which are ridiculously priced ie. 'Golden' Fries - $3, Cheese Fries - $3.90, Club sandwich - $5.90). Clearly, the architect or the designer tried to think in the line of children's thoughts when he designed this Garden. The appearance is certainly there, but the quality of the Garden is still not up to mark yet. Perhaps it's because it's still under construction - the Tree House wasn't ready yet, the lotus for plant study are dying, supposedly due to a serious lack of care, there's a 'stream' that only consists of stones, an under-equipped sandpit and devices for the station 'Photosynthesis' that don't work. But other than these, there're quite a few items that are ready - the hanging bridge, the waterfall, floating (more like 'wobbly' :P) platform. Well, I guess you can't really ask for too much. I don't think it's officially opened yet.

More pics on the place:

The sculpture I like - a treeful of kids

The stained acrylic butterfly at the entrance:
The cute but expensive Kidz Cafe:
The display on (literally) the Cafe:

In limbo

Actually, the threads William posted have bad effects on me. They make me rethink about the way I look at our marriage.

Just about everybody thinks I ought to leave him. The irony is: I feel helpless that this is the verdict that everybody passes. I do want to salvage this marriage. But the problem is, William doesn't think there's a problem with the marriage at all. I actually feel pressured to divorce him. It's external, simply because everyone thinks so adversely of him. I'm beginning to doubt that what I believe in him are all crap.

I've given him two years to reduce his debts. Instead of reducing them, he's incurring more debts. For both years, I told him the same thing,"If your debts are going to remain the same one year from now, I will leave you." Now he tells me he wants to clear the debts by the beginning of 2009, but inside me, I've lost faith in him that he'll do it. I find myself asking myself these few days if I'm wasting my time on him, like what my ex had made me do. If by 2009, he's still in heavy debts, what should I do?

Just by reading the threads alone, I find myself losing respect for him. Even in a forum, you could tell that his EQ is incredibly low. He's practically blaming the whole world for his plight. Like what the forummers say, everybody sucks except himself.

I find myself getting easily affected by anyone's comment about him, even my mother's on how he could not even give me some allowance when he got more than $8,000 for his December payout. I usually ignore my mother and sister's comments about William, but I'm starting to resent William for all his misdeeds, towards me, towards his parents, towards our marriage.

I feel horrible, miserable, lost, insecure.

I don't know why I'm clinging onto this marriage. Is it because I see this as a Christianity commitment? Is it for the sake of Coco?

I have all the reasons to leave this 'man'. I no longer look up to him. I find loving him a challenge. I find respecting him a challenge even. I see all his faults and can't locate his good points. I keep asking myself,"Is this the 'best' God thinks befit me? Am I so lousy I only deserve jerks as husbands?' 'Husband' is a formality term used for a male human being in a marriage, not used as an endearing term in my dictionary. And I hate yeast infection. I don't want it to ever come back to haunt me again.

I'm tired.

Help me, God.

Splinter in my sole (Part 2)

I went to the doc for the splinter.

He gave me an anaesthetic jab (which was awfully painful), and tried to get the splinter out. He showed me an object which looked a little like part of the finger or toe nail, but we were both unsure if that's the thing that's causing me the agony.
After that, he bandaged my foot. And I hobbled around for two days at my mother's place and got really well taken care of by my mother - I didn't even have to get up for a glass of milo.

I certainly hope the object he showed me was the cause of the pain. I wouldn't want to go through another course of jabbing and digging at the same spot.

Home Decor Survivor Showtime!

We saw ourselves on TV. The show's aired.

I looked fine on TV - I thought I was going to look really awful, but it was better than what I thought. I guess the producer was kind enought to edit the show so that it's bearable for us. I just hope that my last remark towards the end of the show will not invite criticisms.

Upon knowing that I'm getting my Connect Plan two days from now, I went out to get myself a DVD recorder, armed with a $100 Best Denki voucher from my piano purchase. After some fumbling around, we finally got the machine moving - 20 minutes away from the show time. Phew!

I got it taped down as a momento. :)

Friends smsed me to compliment on my painting 'talent', which I believe is more of 'technique' rather. It's nice to see yourself on TV and showcasing what you're fine at.

The producer has edited quite abit, which I'm relieved about. I won't want to appear overbearing or talk too much on TV, especially when 'where words abound, sins abound much'. My last remark is enough to keep me worrying for another few weeks.

For those who are interested, here's Bryan's opposing design: http://www.bryanwong.sg/

Home-ridden

I am staying home because I am trying out the method Amjad recommended me.

I don't have baking soda, so I'm using baking powder instead.

I hope it works. It's supposed to 'suck out' the splinter so that it's visible for me to pull it out.

If it doesn't, I'll need to go to the doc. The thought of going to the doc freaks me out. He's going to be unsympathetic as he cuts open my sole to get that prick out. I'm not supposed to give even a tiny yelp if it hurts like mad. I don't know how I can do that. I'm even more afraid that the doc would be angry with me and give up helping me take out the splinter because I keep taking my foot back. Oh please God, let the splinter come out!

Splinter in my sole

Amjad showed me this link http://www.wikihow.com/Remove-a-Splinter-Without-Tweezers,-Squeezing,-or-Pain
The steps:
1. Wash your hands.
2. Irrigate the affected area with a liquid antiseptic such as Betadine, or just wash the affected area.
3. Make a paste using water and about 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda.
4. Put this paste on a bandage and apply the bandage to the affected area.
5. After 24 hours, remove the bandage and rinse the area. The splinter will be sticking out of the skin and you or the child will be able to remove it easily.

I am tempted to try this out before going to the doc. Oh, I haven't mentioned that I got a wooden splinter stuck in my sole. It's almost invisible to the naked eye and William insists that there's nothing there. But it pricks when I apply pressure on it, so I'm quite sure it's still there. A cut wound feel different from a needle prick.

Look who goes to the forum

It's unbelievable. I chanced upon a thread in singaporebrides started by William:
http://www.singaporebrides.com/forumboard/messages/5/550130.html?1192679412.

In it, he was griping about how his wife chats non-stop and ignores how he feels. It's quite amusing how the other forummers read his situation with a pinch of salt. I'm very surprised that they didn't gang up with him to scold me, or blame me, except for one who made that stupid suggestion to him, which he actually adopted and infuriated me.

I think I might join in the fun and let the forummers have a more 'balanced' view of the situation. :)

It's interesting how he puts the situation across to the outsiders ie. the way he paints me, the victim he portrays himself as, the scenario. For almost everything that he says, I feel as though I have another side of the story to tell.

'Hack' the virtual world!

My elder sister's yahoo mail has been hacked into recently.

The hacker pretended to be her and mass-emailed to her friends and clients, claiming that she was on a studying trip at Africa and got stranded in Africa, and asked the recipients to send money to a certain account.

The whole idea of it taunts my sister. She's worried that the hacker would know details of her credit card numbers, her friends' and clients' contact numbers and might trick them into doing his bidding or cheat them of their money.

Although we've read about hackers, reality doesn't set in until we meet one ourselves. It's very scary how the hacker even anticipated that my sister would try changing the password. He actually set up a system which prompted my sister for her credit card number when she tried changing her password. It's really very hair-raising when you are in a situation like that, that someone is watching over your online activities.

Her password is alpha-numeric, ungrammatical and is totally unrelated to herself. It's amazing how the hacker is able to decode it. It makes me wonder how much more vulnerable my email accounts are if my sister's is hacked into. It makes you feel that even the virtual world is so unsafe. We've all heard and read about how dangers are lurking in the virtual world, but when it really happens to you, it's a totally different story.

Women and Men

Just came across this from a singaporebrides mate's Multiply and found it very true (not like I can verify it though) and highly interesting:

Why women are good at wrapping presents – and Men aren't

Extracted from The Daily Mail [Dec 6 2007]

Anyone who believes that men are the equal of women has never seen a man trying to wrap a Christmas present.

Most men see wrapping presents as a fruitless exercise. A present is a present whether it’s tied up with a bow or not. To them, it is pointless covering something in paper when you’re just going to rip it off.

A woman on the other hand likes to see that the giver has taken care and attention in wrapping her gift. To her mind, it is a display of love and affection to see that a present has been wrapped thoughtfully.

But there is scientific reason why men don’t like wrapping presents. Men and women’s eyes are constructed differently. Men suffer greater eyestrain than women because, as hunters, their eyes are genetically configure for long distances – for scanning the horizon for the next kill.

As a gatherer and nurturer, a woman’s eyes are better suited for close-range activities, making it easier for her to work on fine detail.

Being dextrous would also have been an advantage to the process of gathering fruit and berries as it gives twice the speed, so women have evolved to be more quick fingered and more likely to be ambidextrous than men, which means the average woman is excellent at tying bows and wrapping fiddly presents.

What’s more, when it comes to choosing ribbons and wrapping paper, women’s eyes are better at putting colours together than men. The retina contains about 130 million cells to deal with black and white and 7 million to handle colour.

The X chromosome in our DNA provides these colour cells and while men have only one X chromosome, women have two, which gives them greater variety. This difference is noticeable in how women describe colours in greater detail. A man will use basic colour descriptions like red, blue and green, but a woman will talk of aqua, teal, mauve and apple green.

Rain Rain, Go Away

It's been raining. It ruins the plans we did up for Coco during the holiday. We wanted to take her to a few places:
1. Palawan / East Coast beach
2. Chalet at Pasir Ris
3. Wild Wild Wet
4. Inline skating
but we haven't been able to do any of the above because of the monsoon season.

I don't remember having such a rainy season for the previous December holidays. I don't know what's up with the weather this year. It's been raining practically every single day. And it's always POURING. It rains at least 4 or 5 times a days. It's so ridiculous. It's so wet every day, everywhere it makes you feel so haiz.

We plan to take her to some other places:
1. to the cinema - to watch 'Enchanted' and 'Mr Magorium's Emporium'.
2. Discovery Centre, which she had wanted to go
3. buy Christmas presents
They don't sound very exciting, but we've very few choices because of the wet weather.

It hasn't been a fruitful holiday for me. I haven't done anything that's really substantial. I look forward to preparing a few home-cooked meals for Coco and William but I have been so preoccupied with the many other things, specifically Home Decor Survivor, that I haven't done the things I should have done. In the process of doing the unplanned, I even lost my IC and the $200 my elder sister gave me, on top of the two newly-topped-up ezlink cards. I have to fork out $100 to replace my lost IC. And MediaCorp hasn't even reimbursed me the $500 yet. It's such a shame that a big organisation like this didn't even get a simple cheque ready way before results were announced, when they obviously knew that one of the teams would surely lose. And for the remaining week, I have to worry until next Monday when the show's going to screen our competition - on how unphotogenic I look on TV. I saw the trailer and I think I look awful. I hope, I really hope, it's just that shot that's not so nice. I also worry about what my students and parents think of me when they see me on that show. I also worry about what Coco's friends and teachers think of her when they see her and her parents on TV. I also worry about what the public might say on my comment about teaching is a thankless job. Oh dear, don't I sound like I'm regretting appearing on TV despite the enriching experience?

On the fringe

I went for a haircut today after deliberating for many days over where to go for the cut. Although I have faith in this hairdresser I always go to that he does nice haircuts, I can't really stand his stuck-up attitude. He thinks he's really good and doesn't talk to you if he feels he can't click with you.

But after looking around, asking around, even standing outside Protrim at Causeway Point to look at the haircut of their clients who came out of the salon, I decided today to go back to the stuck-up hairdresser.

But at least he listens to what you want and tries to cut according to what you ask for. I've encountered hairdressers who don't listen to you and cut your hair the way THEY want without asking for your permission. They are not the ones who wear that hair for the next six months in any case.

I asked for a fringe. It's been about 10 years since I last had fringe. I like what I see in the mirror. I look younger definitely. I kept my fringe long because it's easier for maintenance and it saves cost. I don't have to run to the salon every 2 or 3 months. But this time round, I want a change in the way I look. My look is getting so boring I can't stand.

It was embarrassing though when one of the girls there complained that my scalp was very greasy. I had to confess to her that I haven't been washing my hair because I couldn't decide when I was going to cut my hair.

On my way to the hairdresser, with my mind filled with 'to have a fringe or not to have', I met a secondary schoolmate at Lavender MRT Station. Surprisingly, he lives around there. We exchanged abit of information about ourselves: he's divorced and he knew that I've remarried. We also exchanged numbers and agreed to come out for a coffee when we are free. His appearance half convinced me that I should keep a fringe. I used to have fringe when I was schooling - all the way through 'A' levels. And I always thought I look better with fringe. Just that when you get used to a type of look, it becomes difficult and scary to change. When I first saw what I looked like in the mirror, I gave a silent laugh. My elder sister and William also laughed when they saw me. But they thought I looked nice, and better, with the fringe. I'll post a picture of myself next time. I'll be going to a photography session with Coco this Friday.

Family violence

Time really flies when you blog (Did I ever say this on my previous entries?). It's been 8 days since I last blogged.

Alot of things happened during this period when I was absent from the blogging world: we quarrelled big time over a stack of soccer bet printouts on the very day I made my last entry. I was upset that he had been lying to me and I smsed him that I wanted to divorce him. He started to get abusive - he stepped on my foot and pulled at my arm to try to stop me from leaving the house, he placed a fork at his neck to threaten to pierce his throat while cornering me against the kitchen cabinets if I refused to believe that he wasn't the owner of a stack of soccer bet printouts (which we later realised belong to Ah Boon, Bryan Wong's assistant), he threw a sofa cushion and the stack of soccer bet printouts at me as I was leaving the house. He also told my father over the phone that I was running away with a man when I left the house with a bagful of clothes meant for my stay at Malaysia with my family.

When I came back from Malaysia, he was still fuming and refused to talk nicely to me. I went to the police station to report the loss of my belongings not knowing that he was stalking me. He got worried and he followed me into the police station. His abrupt presence reminded me to enquire about PPO (Personal Protection Order) and so I did. The police apparently could tell that something was amissed and he explained to me what 'qualifies' one for a PPO and how it works. I was surprised to learn that a PPO doesn't even require one to sustain injuries to apply for one. Mental anguish is sufficient reason for it. And if the aggressor violates the PPO, he would be arrested on the spot.

After we stepped out of the police station, we managed to have an alright talk, but deep down inside me, I don't feel that things have changed for the better. The problem is still there - he doesn't want me to manage the finance.

The Process

The messy house



Jack painting the tv console area and balcony



Mark and Jack repainting the wall and L-shape cove




Mark Lee and team framing my batik painting



Mark Lee fixing up the entrance piece with the producer Wee Keong and Coco


The soundman and camera man waiting for the water feature to be fixed up ...




The wall flower






The batik painting