ALL THAT YOU LEAVE BEHIND...

A colleague of mine recently wrote a column that got me thinking... It was about people calling from "unknown" cellphone numbers, and how he would never pick up such a call, since it is invariably some kind of telemarketeer telling you've won something (if you'll let them try and convince you into timesharing a holiday home that you don't need, and which may often non-existent). Personally, both Pete and I do the same almost by force of habit. Our parents, siblings and close friends don't have caller non-ID. Neither do our bosses. So we can pretty much safely assume that its not quite critical for the person on the other end to reach us. Most often, we're right in doing so. But the lengths to which some people go to ensure they don't leave their mark brings to mind how extensively, in this day and age, we actually do leave pretty clear footprints wherever we go, and often, don't think too much about it. When you unwittingly call someone's cellphone using your own, you leave your traceable number (which they can then use to hassle you). When you visit a blog, Blogger allows a tiny encrpyted device to capture your ISP, and convey to the blog owner a whole bunch of information, indicating who you are, where you're accessing it from, how often you visit and even which details of that person's life you pore over. When you take part in some random lucky draw or survey, you can be assured that you're going to make it to some database, and that it is more than likely to end up in the hands of the last person you intended. And there are companies out there who put together extensive profiles about who you are, what you do, where you shop, what you buy, how much you pay for it, and eventually, that profile - YOU, essentially- gets sold as a product to marketeers. It's pretty scary. At the risk of never actually winning anything, I shun lucky draws, and the same goes for surveys, unless I have a really clear idea of what its for, and trust the person tasked with having to do it. When I visit a blog or a website, I am usually extremely aware that what I do/say on that website is traceable. When I post to this one, I also bear in mind that it is not just friends and family that read it, and censor accordingly. I guess the next logical step would be to consider the "unknown" caller option. But that would mean Mr Kow, and Pete, for that matter, not taking my calls, so I think I'll just leave that as just something to think about, at least for now. :) Art

LESSONS IN LIFE #762 and #763

Things I learnt today: #762: When your decide one day that you actually have two hours on your hands (quite literally), which would allow you to pander to your husband's known like of French manicures, try and put your keys somewhere that will mean not having to dig through your bag for it, inevitably ruining your brand new nail job in the process. Or at least make sure he's home to open the door. #763: Before setting off for the said nail date, make sure dishes (and laundry, and all other housework that will even remotely involve your hands) are done, so you don't end up coming home to a full sink, and then feel guilty because you really, really don't wanna do them and mess up your nails, but think the prospect of leaving dirty dishes in the sink overnight is too gross. Sigh. Art

CLAN BRAAM'S MUSICAL DEBUTS...

Welcome to the Digital Age, when I can proudly declare that my family has FULLY embraced technology. Not only have we finally got Dave onto the web, both our mums sending text messages, and almost all our aunts and siblings sending regular emails, but now, my sister Sangeet, now based in faraway Holland, has discovered YouTube! And despite such issues as "a beat up piano, lousy acoustics and an annoying three year old who thought jolting the video camera was fun", has put up videos of my wonderful musician-nieces, Dominque and Nicola. Watch this space, because Danielle's trumpet video is yet to come! The last time we saw them, both - plus youngest Dianelle - were fighting for "lap space" on Pete and me at our wedding. Its amazing how much kids grow when you're not looking. Its hard to imagine that I held Nicola the day she was born at Mount E, and then was sent to Paragon in search of decent local food for the new Mum. And that, thanks to my crazy hours when I was a sub-editor, I did some of the night feeds for the twins when they were born, and got pretty accustomed to that heady scent of formula, bottle disinfectant, poop, and "baby" that hung in the air (someone should bottle it, really). We're pretty lucky that we can watch Divya and Reuben grow up, since they not only live in Singapore but practically up the street. And technology means that through digital shots, YouTube, this blog even, we get to vicariously track Sangeet's kids, and Dave's and Gwen's. What makes me sad, though, is that we never had that option with Honey's kids, who are now all in their mid-20s and beginning illustrious careers of their own. We love them like crazy, too, and on some level, MSN, SMS, and having to travel to London for work has allowed me to remain close to Kirti. But what I really mean is those growing years, the darndest things they say (one niece, at my wedding, tried to convince me I shouldn't do it, because otherwise then who would marry her???). Still, I guess I should be grateful that we're getting this chance now, and without any further rambling..... Presenting Clan Braam: Dominique, 7, plays E. Mollenhauer's Infant Paganini on the violin: And Nicola, 10, plays J Haydn's Concertino in C on the piano, with three talented schoolmates. Hope you enjoy them as much as we did! Art

LIFE IN BULLETS

(Warning: long post ahead. But hey, you did ask for it!) I've finally gotten back a sliver of sanity, and decided to write again, not least prompted by the fact that some readers of this blog think we have simply fallen off the planet. Feels like it, sometimes (read: every second minute), but now is not the moment for complaints and apologies. With the new gig I've got, its hard to wanna revel in even more words after 15 hours of doing it each day. But I guess I'm slowly finding a comfortable pace (read: Sorry boss, I have to leave the office now because despite my greatest efforts, my brain has run for the hills).... Hence, TW resurfaces. But apparently, this blog still has its old fans (and evidently, some news ones! Welcome, we hope you enjoy your stay. Thank you for flying TW), so here we are again, ready to update you on the thrills and spills, the shennanigans and fennanigans, of life as TW. So, the three month (has it been that long???) update: Pete's doing brilliantly and really enjoying the My Paper gig (imagine, my Irish boy art directing a Chinese-English newspaper, who'd have thought), and now's sinking his teeth into yet another project (Argh). I've been trying to get used to not being able to do as much reporting/writing as I would love to - but sneakily and vicariously have been getting my hound thrills through my colleagues haha. We've tweaked the design of the house a little, and it looks oh, so very grown up and pretty! We'll get some nice pretty pix up soon. I have started gardening! (Oi, don't cringe! It's super relaxing and Pete loves being able to reach into the balcony and surface with just about any herb or small vege we need). Was a little out of sorts and was off work for two weeks, and it kept me busy. Anyhoos, thanks to a little love and care, the lime, chilli padi, basil, mint, lemon balm mint, rosemary (i didn't even think it would grow) etc are going nuts, and tomatoes have started shooting and, like small children begging for their own bedrooms, are fighting for space. Can't wait for the first crop. Okay, you are permitted to say I have gone a little loopy. Nonetheless.... The break also gave me a little bit of time on my hands to do stuff I don't get the chance to do usually... like experiment in the kitchen, and it was brilliant being able to churn out strange meals that greeted Pete after a long day (AGAD!!! Is Art turning into a little housewife!!???!!). It was fun la. We've adopted yet another shooter to the family of Canons, and its a ...... Ricoh! (who'd have thought huh). Pete's taken some amazing shots, which I promise we will post (eventually). He brought it with us to KL, when I managed to coerce him to rough out an eight hour train ride for me to write a colour piece on (great trip, horrible train - will create a post with the article I wrote)..... On my part, I've been mucking around with my faithful S2 and trying hard not to favour it over the rest, which Pete says I really should learn to use. Soon soon. I've also been lost at sea with the video cam, but my cousin promises she'll take me through it properly, so we'll come back from Ireland with some good stuff. Speaking of Ireland (YAY!!), absolutely cannot WAIT to hop of a plane and get OUTTA here! Paddy and Jen (see pix) are tying the knot, and going by what happened when Eoin and Hilary got hitched, its going to be insane. The plan is for us to land into Berlin, and Pete shoots off to Paddy's bucks while I paint the town red with Suhaila and Tina. Then we muck around a bit (Pete loves Berlin and its my first time), before hitting the wedding of the century in Dublin, and the we end up back home in Cork (fly fishing!). We stop in Abu Dhabi for a bit of dune bashing on the way back. It's kinda whirlwind but, sigh, when is it never???? Really looking forward to a bit of alone time, away from some of the crap here. Other than that, hum... what else. Oh, Eoin and Hilary's small one is almost here (Congrats guys!!) and is due just about the exact time we'll be in Dublin, so hopefully we'll get to see the baby while we're there. The very pregnant Sam is also due soon. Pete, Claud and I have discovered that Sav Blancs and 7-11 mash potatos with gravy actually go quite nicely together..... Don't ask. Just cringe and try. Coupla nights ago, we ended up at Harry's at Holland Village, and after wasting funny money on individual glasses of Sav Blanc, we finally (stupidly) realised we should have bought a bottle. Of course, we also, at that stage, fail to realise that the bar shuts at midnight or something ridic like that. So, like silly teenagers, we end up with plastic cups and a corked half bottle at the coffeeshop. Felt remarkably like uni but it was such a laugh and a half. Came up with half baked and crazy ideas for what to give Paddy and Jen, and had not one, not two, but THREE cups of mash. Which says a lot, considering: 1) our severe doubts that they don't even contain potato, and 2) the fact that Pete's Irish. Perhaps it was the wine, or the lack of options (we realised only after finishing the mash that we could have bought prata. But I reckon prata, fish curry and our overpriced wino might not quite have become, erm, friends. But who ever knows. I guess that's it really.... which brings us to the present. Just completed a really exhilirating course on editing. It was brill, not least because I found out everyone else was experiencing some of the same shitty problems. It also kinda showed me where to find the upsides, which, at the end of a long day, are the hardest to find. Was cool. Next week its back to the grind, but will definitely pop in often to whinge, and occasionally, entertain. For now though, its Saturday night and I got things to see and people to do! Laters! Art