Hospitality @ MindSay 
family
I would just invite you to check out my friends website.
"Back to the Table with My Country Kitchen" www.mycountrykitchen.com
All I am asking is sign up for my friend 's newsletter.
She is trying to get to 100 subscribers before or by June 30, 2007.
If you like cooking and are wanting to get back to sitting around and table and eating
as a family. My friend newsletter has a lot of useful tips, ideas that she would
love to share.
I have her cookbook and love it. I also gave a autograph copy to my sister
for her Mother's Day and she loved it.
{{{{{Warm Regards}}}}
Tally, Healthy Coffee Lady
Everyone should know about the new Cathay Cineplex (I like this brandname) at Handy Road, I suppose. It houses ELEVEN movie theatres. Wow! However, I wasn't particularly impressed with its exterior design. "Cathay Cineleisure looks better", I thought. I read up somewhere that when the old Cathay was completed in 1939, it was the tallest building in South East Asia [ one indicator of our regional backwardness? ].
Anyway, I passed by Cathay Cineplex today on my way to Singapore Management University for an interview (it took me quite some time to figure out where the city campus is). The SMU lady who called in (because I was late) told me of an ERP entrance right before the school. I followed her directions and soon caught sight of that ERP landmark. On its left was the Cathay Cineplex.
Then it flashed through my memories that the Straits Times featured this brief news on how S'pore drivers are enjoying a free treat by the Cathay Cineplex carpark; they could conveniently bypass the ERP check by taking a little detour through the carpark (though that would only save them 50 cents, as Cathay levies a flat $2 rate anyway) [ how frugal S'poreans are. That explains their burgeoning foreign reserves? ].
Well, Cathay isn't at fault I suppose. Their plan was drawn out when the ERP was yet to be effected. The LTA is said to still stay silent on this. I wonder what their response would be. Interesting, isn't it? Maybe I should tone down on my critiques of Vietnam, because even the efficient S'pore has glitches now and then.
Anyway, this one is no match for the power failure in 2004. No one needs to resign. Oh, did anyone resign to "atone" for the Great S'pore Blackout then? I don't quite remember... If I'm not wrong, a Dutch city mayor left office after power supply failed in his city for 4 minutes.
Well, I'm split on this. On one hand, I strongly feel that such contextual resignations do prove their integrity and accountability in their profession duties. When a waiter breaks a glass or two, or a movie counter server issues the wrong show tickets, he / she would have to pay for that (in the case of repeated wrongs of course). High-up people, like ministers and mayors, can't pay. Not necessarily because they can't, but that they can't bargain for public confidence in the corporate way.
Sadly, many choose, or beg of people, to hang on, to further prove nothing but their incompetency.
On the other hand, however, I do also think that resignations could indicate irresponsibility and personal unfulfilment. Why do they quit when they should instead stay on and right their wrongs and pass down an office in proper shape to their successors?
There's this fine line, of similarities and differences, between irresponsible stubbornness and fulfilling resignations. Mr Goh Chok Tong could epitomise the latter, while Vietnam's Minister for Education (I can't be bothered to remember his name), certainly, the former. Well, this is only MY opinion.
Only the person in THAT position would know which his case is! [ discreet judgement ]
Okay, I'm carried away yet again. So sorry...
Well, I was late for the SMU interview. I thought it was an admission interview. At the end of it, the professor told me they combined both, admission and scholarship interviews, into ONE session so that candidates would not have to come again. Hmm...
I felt screwed for the first time when people convenienced me.
I think it should be the least interesting interview I've ever attended. No fun, no intriguing question. Simply extra-ORDINARY matters. I didn't get to reveal much about myself. And I don't think the professors got to know much of me either. That sucks.
Anyway, the SMU culture is cool!
Now comes the fun part!
Eileen and I BANG-ed when I was trying to figure out how to enter that protected building. [ I BOLD the word because it was such a wonderful surprise. So cut that perverse thought in your mind if you're harbouring one! ]
We wanted to meet at Times Publishing Group (her ex-workplace and my current steady) today. But because I wasn't working as planned, we canceled it altogether. That is how our BANG was so cool :)
I came down after my interview and met up with her. We gibbered loads about our SMU interviews hahaha. She didn't know what euthanasia was, and her last literature texts were those her teacher ASKED her to read. I think SMU would miss out a lady that never stops talking if they don't get her.
Then came this Korean family who were looking for the Singapore History Museum. We didn't know it was right BEHIND us. Luckily the Korean lady didn't quite understand English so she didn't leave straight away when we said she should take the train to Clark Quay and walk from there.
Everybody, the Singapore History Museum is on Stamford Road, right beside the SMU School of Economics and Social Sciences. [ in case some tourist finds you pleasant enough to ask for directions ]
Eileen was SO into getting them to the museum. She waved cheerfully as she always is at every child and adult, boy and girl in the group and happily bid farewell with "Welcome to Singapore"...
I think she's a natural S'pore ambassador.
Is that how this small little island welcomed 7 million tourists last year? I mean, if every S'porean prides himself / herself as an ambassador to anyone, anywhere, anytime, what a lovely country this is to once in a while fly in to savour the tropical sun mixed well with the Oriental hospitality, close-up and free.
If every man and woman, boy and girl, photographer and artiste in Vietnam feels the same way, my country could well exceed the 4-million target of 2006. Baby, You could charm any one on Earth with Your beautiful beaches and characteristic temples and serene countryside and never-ending river flows.
Let's welcome them to explore the Hidden Charm!
Okay, I am digressing again, Perhaps I should get a personal secretary to help me keep track of what I am blogging on for an entry. Err, any volunteer?
Alright, after the Uniquely Singapore welcome to the Koreans, we went for lunch at Plaza Singapura. I excitedly found out that Eileen loves seafood, too. And she thinks Long John Silver's is the best value-for-money fast-food place. Me too!!! People allergic to seafood or reluctant to savour the oceanic goodness are really missing out on one of the world's best treasures man.
That's Eileen and me @ Long John Silver's. Well I think I kinda over-intruded into the camera range.
We talked a lot, about A' levels, about looks (we both are good-looking), about life and all... I asked her quite some bits on the work at Times Centre. It seems that the place is really too good to be true.
Eileen is happy happy happy. And I'm happy for her! :)
KW & WK is cool! [ this is a code ]
To be hospitable is to be friendly toward guests or strangers. In the New Testament, the Greek word for hospitality literally means “love of strangers.”
The Bible tells us to practice hospitality. Hebrews 13:2 says, “Do not forget to entertain strangers.”
There are opportunities to do this when we greet visitors at church, or when someone moves into the neighborhood. When we practice hospitality, people are touched by our offer of friendship.
Here is how hospitality can be an expression of worship to God: when the love of Jesus for us is the compelling reason why we love strangers. On one occasion, the Apostle Paul explained what motivated his ministry. He said, “Christ’s love compels us.” That can be our motivation for loving strangers.
While I’ve never been a big sports person I can usually at least get by feigning interest in American sports. My mother is a rabid Orioles fan, so I manage to keep reasonably abreast of the rankings in the American League, and there are even complete half an hours that I find myself diverted by whatever football game is playing when my dad turns on the TV on Sunday. I’ve never been able to muster any sort of affection for basketball due to the fact that, at five one, I’ve always felt the creator of the sport must have had it in for me, but two out of the three major televised American sports is not bad. Here, however, I’m entirely in the dark. There are three fairly serious rugby players that live on my hall who also happen to be rugby fans, and I tune out while they go on for hours about England versus Italy, or if Scotland really can beat France this time. The internationalism of the teams intrigues me, as it makes it sound like we’re gearing up for a third world war instead of a Sunday past time, but I can’t see the point of a game that seems hell bent on reversing thousands of years worth of evolution in its brutality.
It was thus with more than usual interest that I began to pay attention to the results of the football playoff games that were announced on my daily NPR podcasts. Because the Ravens, who are the only team I would feel any sort of allegiance to for geographical reasons, were not in the running, I began to invent a rooting interest in Seattle. I loved the fact that they had never been to a Super Bowl before, so despite knowing nothing about their actual ranking I began to think of them as underdogs, and to wish them well in their quest for ultimate victory.
I had no particular plans to watch the Super Bowl, however, and was only vaguely aware of its actual date. The decision to go to a party was made the night of when I received a call from my friend inviting me to her friends’ apartment to watch the game. I had planned to spend the evening in reading King Lear, but it felt un American to reject the offer after spending the afternoon listening to commentary on Scotland’s chances against top seated France. I was going to show the Brits that if you are going to pound an athlete mercilessly in hopes of extracting an oblong ball from his grasp you had to be at least civil enough to allow him a helmet. And that we saved their ass in World War II. So, feeling giddily ugly Americanish, I set out at nine thirty on Sunday evening to watch The Game.
The end of the evening, however, left me with less appreciation for American sports than for British TV. Because British TV is nationalized there are far fewer commercials than in the US. To watch the Super Bowl with few commercial breaks of any kind, and with British commercials when they finally did appear, robs the Super Bowl of half of its draw. It also makes one realize just how little football is actually played during a game. In order to cover up the long stretches where nothing happens without the aid of commercials, the Brits turned sports pundits who sat behind a desk in front of a network logo and shared interesting statistics about past Super Bowl winners.
Along with the conspicuous absence of commercials, the commentary on the game was noticeably different from American broadcasts. The level of commentary was almost absurdly basic because the broadcast was at least partly geared toward a British audience who, it was supposed, had little or no knowledge of the rules of the game. It was entertaining to hear the announcers explaining the concept of a “first down,” or what it meant to be “off sides;” it was like watching a broadcast of football for dummies. However, this was not all a bad thing. I had never paid more than passing attention to the games that I had seen at home, but now I was hooked. All of a sudden I understood exactly what was going on in my television screen.
After the first half, however, when the Seahawks failed to rally and it was getting into the wee hours of the morning, I discovered that football, unlike literature, does not become more interesting once one has a deeper understanding of the rules. Without commercials to divert me, and without hope that my team might pull ahead, I started to worry about how I was going to get home since the Tubes had stopped running. In the end my hosts offered me their futon as accommodation for what was left of the night. Grateful not to have to find a Night Bus or spend money on a cab I accepted. This offer of hospitality, from people I barely knew, gave me a much better feeling of American camaraderie than watching the game had. And it was snuggled on a futon, fully clothed with un-brushed teeth, that I observed the great American tradition of crashing in someone else’s apartment, and I was proud to be an American.
here it is;
i am not going back. i love all my friends there who i live with and those on my course but my heart just is not in it anymore. i have no enthusiasm to do it. i had two essays to write but could not sit down and do them.
Like my grandad said 'if your heart is not in it there is no point doing it' and i agree.
So yep i havea meeting with my personal tutor tomorrow at 11:30am that i just found out now in my emails but alas i am at home in yorkshire and wont be able to get there so got to ring him in the morning and re arrange that.
i've always wanted to work on a cruise ship and going on holiday on one well it intensified that feeling - the feeling of wanting to work in the travel/hospitality industry. so now i need experience, which means i need to get two years of working in a hotel etc under my belt. so thats my next point of call - writing and sending out my CV's to hotels around where i live... fingers crossed i get something.
Will post pictures later on,
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