Mr Pig and Parrisa in da UK

Fortune Cookies

2006-04-20T22:52:00.000Z

Temperature : 12 degrees Celsius
Weather : Mostly sunny
Mood : Peckishly good humoured

Today, Pickles and Slackjack cracked into a box of Silk Road brand ("no two fortunes are the same!") Chinese fortune cookies.

Pickles loved fortune cookies. He was always filled with excitment and anticipation, and usually choked on the cookie in his haste to get to the fortune.

Pickles was very pleased with his fortune as he felt it rung true to his nature. He knew he was short a few peanuts in the brains department.

Slackjack, a founding member of the Leporidae Skeptics Society, thought that fortune cookies were pure rubbish, catering only for guai los and drunks. He always marvelled at the number of laughs he got from reciting "this insert has a plastic coating".

Impressed, Slackjack is now reconsidering his position on the fortune cookie.

Parting is such sweet sorrow

2006-02-24T11:47:00.000Z

Temperature : 4 degrees Celsius
Weather : partly cloudy with a few snow/sleet showers
Mood : post traumatic stress

After much debate and deliberation, logical economics won over sentimental ideals :- this morning, Mr Pig and Parissa waved goodbye to their beloved car.

Dark blue, BMW 330 coupe with beige leather seats. *sniff*

It had been such a good car, so trustworthy, sleek and beautiful ... and what a sweet, sweet engine! It was the only thing that made driving in London bearable.

It had been on ferries, on trains ...

...it had crossed misty highlands, circumnavigated lakes ...

... and it had fulfilled its mission to drive on the autobahns of Germany (the large numbers are MILES/hr, small numbers are KM/hr).

There was no denying that the car was much loved ... but Mr Pig's and Parissa's decision was based on the fact that it simply wasn't useful to have a car in London. One must spend time getting it serviced, repaired, worry about it being vandalised (as there is only street parking), worry incessantly about getting parking tickets and suffer the dual agonies of always driving a dirty car, and watching pigeon shit/tree sap being baked into the paintwork.

Here is one vandal caught red-handed writing obscenities on the rear windscreen ... is that snow or bird crap?

As an indicator of how often the car was used, it wasn't a problem when the fuel cap was jammed shut for 3 months. And apart from being of service to their friends (trips to and from airports, helping move house), Mr Pig and Parissa were rarely able to use the car for themselves in London.

For the hip pocket, it just wasn't worth paying 17GBP per day to have a car sitting on the street. So with great reluctance, Parissa made a call and arranged to have the car picked up at 10 o'clock this morning.

In preparation for the car's return, Mr Pig was told TWICE by the car company to make sure there was nothing left in the car that wasn't present originally. So, being a rather obsessive compulsive creature, Mr Pig went through the car with a fine toothed comb and removed everything that could be removed .. and did it all last night so she would be well prepared for the morning.

After staying awake most of the night to watch the 3.30am replay of the Olympic women's figure skating final, Mr Pig was suddenly struck at 8.00am with one thought :
"Without the resident parking permit (so carefully removed last night), the car could get a fine!".
Rushing downstairs to check, her fears of seeing a plastic envelope on the windscreen were waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay superceded by seeing no plastic envelope, no windscreen ... in fact, no car at all!!!!
First Mr Pig reassured herself that the car wasn't stolen and it had most likely been towed away by the parking attendants. But when this was confirmed by Westminster council, who then politely added that it would cost 200GBP to free the car from the "Car Pound", she began to wish that the car HAD been stolen.

A very flustered Mr Pig calculated she had only 1 hour to get the car back before it was due for pick up by the car company. Luckily the Car Pound was close by, though situated in the middle of a labrynthine carpark, underneath (!!) Hyde Park. From the carpark entrance one is forced to walk underground, along a dimly lit concrete corridor which is sooo long that were it not for the irregularly shaped urine puddles, a person could believe it was a hall of mirrors. Every 50m a sign "Car Pound ahead" reminds the forsaken individual of their final destination ... and so one keeps walking and walking, head bowing lower and lower at each sign ... on and on and on until they know they're walking the walk of shame.

After exiting the horror-house corridor, one is forced to weave through the carpark towards a massive cage. The only entrance to the cage is via a payment office, where the 200GBP extortion must be handed over before one is pointed towards a one-way door, through which no light is visible. Walking into the darkness of the cage, one's eyes adjust until hundreds of cars in various states (some clamped, some stickered, others unharmed) become visible...all stolen by Westminster Council and held for ransom. The only way out is via a massive iron gate, controlled by the payment office guard who requires a wave and gritted-teeth smile before he'll press the "OPEN" button. And finally, for the finishing kick to the kidneys, the car park ticket given to the defeated individual is YELLOW and stamped "CAR POUND" ... and the carpark exit attendant makes sure his snicker is heard loud and clear.

In the end, Mr Pig made it back on time .. but couldn't help mulling over these few (ironic) points :-

They gave up the car to save money .. but it ended up costing money.
They gave up the car to stop worrying about parking hassles ... the car gets towed.
The car just HAD to be towed away the very morning it was due for pick-up. Not in the 50 weeks before, not a week before, not even a day before.
The pick-up company inspects for damage ... damage that could easily have been caused by being forcibly placed on a tow truck. .. and the Car Pound has big signs that say you can't claim for damages after leaving the site, despite it being so dark in the car park that a mobile light is required (and not sufficient) to inspect for damage.
Trying to prevent problems by cleaning the car out ahead of time, actually caused problems.
The previous night, Mr Pig had signed up for some medical experiments which pay 100GBP for blood donations. Parissa insisted that Mr Pig make recompense for her thoughtlessness.... so, the cost of losing the car will literally be paid with blood. Mr Pig's blood.

Sometimes life is just funny like that. Though Mr Pig seems to get more than her fair share of 'funny' stories. Anyone other than a die-hard athiest might start to feel persecuted!

Goodnight! Goodnight! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow....

... when I replace you with this cute little electric car!! (joking!! I love you man!)

Today I died and went to heaven ... in suede!!

2006-01-18T01:43:00.000Z

Temperature : 7 degrees celcius
Weather : sunrise at 8am, cloudy all day, dark by 5pm
Mood : happy happy joy joy !!!!!!!

Mr Pig and Parissa recently went to Rome and came back with two beautiful pairs of suede Mary-Janes. Mr Pig couldn't stop admiring the velvety softness of the suede, found the black with white trim and buckle simply irresistable, and thought the velcro strap coupled with gorgeously coloured tan was sheer genius. So when the shoes turned out to have the perfect heel (slightly taller than kitten), 80 euros a pair seemed like a bargain!

Returning to London, Mr Pig displayed her new purchases up high on a chair where all could behold their beauty (but not touch). She forgot that monkies climb and rabbits jump.

A few days later, Mr Pig decided to check out the post-Xmas sales, and found this pair of copper trimmed purple suede shoes she'd been eyeing for some time. They are named "ANNA".
Take note of the "cleavage" front (ie. closed toe, but cut low so that tops of toes can be seen), designed to a make any fat foot look slim, elegant ankle strap and perfect heel height.

Discounted from 65GBP to 45GBP, Anna shone from the shoe rack to Mr Pig as if lit up by an unearthly radiance. But what came next is the real topic of this blog :

"Will these shoes be reduced any further ?" asked Mr Pig, feigning innocent curiosity as she already knew the sales would be going on till Jan 28 and there were still 5 pairs of size 4 shoes left (current pair were meant to be a gift for Colorado Clara, and only 1 size 5 left, therefore, too risky to wait any longer).
"Unlikely to, they were only put on sale 2 weeks ago." replied the salesgirl.
"Oh." sighed Mr Pig, looking forlorn.
"I tell you what!" piped up the salesgirl, "If you go to the basement, we just received a whole load of Carvela stock from a store that's closing down...and that's where you''ll pick up a real bargain. They're all being sold for 9 pounds a pair."

OH MI GOD.

Not wasting a second more on niceties, Mr Pig reviewed "the Art of Sale Shopping aka War" whilst running down 6 flights of stairs, sharpened her elbows and adopted the footy-scrum position before plunging into .... nothing. There was NOBODY in the basement. Quiet store music, plenty of shop assistants standing ready, the occaisional shopper browsing through racks, but no crowds! Mr Pig, starting to hyperventilate, realised that she had found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow .... the unadvertised sale.

2006-01-18T01:30:00.000Z

Though appearing to leisurely stroll through the aisles, the reality was that Mr Pig was in a daze, struck coma-like by 55GBP, 65GBP, 70GBP (do you know how much that is in AUD$$$$??!??!?!?! Like, you know, only $130, $160, $175) Carvelas plastered with discount stickers ... the final sticker being consistently : 9 POUNDS.

There were sandals, strappy heels, sensible work shoes, trendy walkers, joggers, funky eskimo boots, everthing imaginable.

So, Mr Pig had no choice but to start stockpiling shoes.

'Hepburn' was originally 70GBP - they look great on anybody, including Slackjack. At 9GBP each, two pairs had to be bought... one will go to Colorado Clara (so Anna will have some company).

Up next are 'Chelsea' and 'Lola' - originally 65GBP and 55GBP respectively. Both shall be used as sensible work shoes as both flat pumps. Classic pointy toe (never out of fashion) and ballet-slipper toe (current trend).

And finally, we have 'Lauren' - another grey/pink/purple suede number, but this time in fashion sneaker style. Original price : 55GBP.

So in total, 5 pairs of shoes were bought at the sale. Original cost : 315GBP. Actual cost : 45 GBP.

2006-01-18T01:20:00.000Z

The excitement and thrill of such a triumph was shared by Slackjack and Pickles (both atuned to spotting a real swindle) and so the rejoicing went on till the early hours of the morning.

2006-01-18T00:52:00.000Z

Unfortunately, somehow, Parissa got forgotten in the celebrations and was only found the next morning in the discarded wrappings pile.

'Gravel rash bunny' aka 'the Pellet'

2006-01-17T23:46:00.000Z

Temperature : 8 degrees celcius at midday.
Weather : cloudy but not windy thank goodness.
Mood : extremely elevated. Manic, even.

Thanks to the craftiness of my good friend Fresh Bec, I am now the owner of a giant soft-toy reincarnation of my dearly beloved Pellet. Previously only the size of a panadol capsule, or rabbit food pellet, it dangled off my mobile phone in the days when I tried to be mock-Honky in order to mock Honkies. Pretty soon, the pellet was joined by a sticker version in my wallet-of-punishment which Bec named "Gravel Rash Bunny".

Needless to say, the Pellet fell off its hook one day, the wallet of punishment got out on bail, the trend was over. And so, I was alone....

.... until this massive parcel arrived on my doorstep !! Thanks Fresh! Gravel Rash Pellet (new name) shall now be placed on my pillow every morning. Which side faces out shall depend upon my mood.

GRP can also be used as a passive-aggressive tool for keeping order in the house.

For example, finding Angry GRP in the microwave could mean "How bout you try scrubbing away curry that's been cooked for 7 million minutes! Cover your bowl, or else clean up your own filthy mess! You're a disgrace, a bloody disgrace!"

... and finding Angry GRP on the toilet could mean "for the love of God!! What are you eating, man?!?! Use the frickin brush!! Or at LEAST the deoderiser!! Ach! "

Finally! A NEW post .... and NEW pals .....

2005-11-25T16:27:00.000Z

It's been a long time peeps.

Since my last entry, Hyde Park is now covered in frost in the morning as night time temperatures drop to sub-zero, the long-anticipated "KS does EUROPE" has been and gone, I've turned the big THREE OH, and it's almost the end of the year.

In fact, it's been so long, and so much has happened that the pressure of having to do about a million updates has become too much.
So I have decided to quit this blog. At least, quit till I get a few things (photos) sorted out - which will hopefully be sometime before the end of the year. Hey, what's another few months?

Meanwhile, let me introduce two of my new buddies :-

Introducing : Medium Slackjack (the Ripper) Rabbit. Slackjack graduated from Cambridge University with a Masters in Political Science, but became disenchanted with the Blair government and took solace in a life of crime. Purely a "brains" rabbit, Slackjack keeps his velvety paws clean by relying on a trusty sidekick to bring in a little pocket money by means of petty theft. His real income comes from white collar crime.

Meet Medium Pickles Monkey. Pickles is not really known for his brains (he is, afterall, only a monkey) but he's streetwise and handy with a razor. Pickpocketing is his forte and main source of income, and in his leisure hours, he likes to smoke cigars and take self-portraits and mock-ups with his newly acquired Canon IXY digital 60.

Slackjack had been scoping out this one joint for some time, and when it's occupants went away to Brussels for the weekend (to celebrate their wedding anniversary), he sent in Pickles to get the goods.

2005-11-25T15:39:00.000Z

OOOH nice pickings, Pickles!

A Summer morning's walk

2005-08-05T16:51:00.000Z

Ever since we got the elliptical, I haven't had to run round Hyde Park in the mornings. Instead, I go for exploratory walks. So this morning, armed with a new camera, I decided to take photos of my usual jogging route...and any other detours.

After saying goodbye to Eric at Lancaster Gate, my jog starts here : at the Italian Gardens, Kensington Gardens (which joins Hyde Park). That's me, the shadow. At the moment, there is quite a whiffy smell in this area because of the rotting algae in the water. There are also heaps and heaps of birds everywhere ... so it could also be the smell of other things rotting.

2005-08-05T16:50:00.000Z

This is actually a very nice photo at normal resolution. I liked the heron (not _that_ common) and the algae/moss covered statue of 3 cherubs holding up a giant clam. The river is the Serpentine - and I usually jog down one side and back the other side.

2005-08-05T16:49:00.000Z

In the mornings, I usually catch a glimpse of ONE rabbit in this particular patch. But lo and behold, there are actually SIX rabbits!!! They've come out to eat the food being thrown at the pigeons by an old man. In fact, it is a feeding frenzy. Rabbits, pigeons, those black waterbirds with long yellow feet, squirrels, crows...animals are running everywhere, I'm just glad I have a digital camera and don't have to worry about wasting film (because I'm merrily snapping away).

2005-08-05T16:48:00.000Z

This is a squirrel that was HOPING to get in on some of the pigeon feeding, but had been barged out by the rabbits. He is instead, hoping that I'll throw him something - that pathetic posture, begging eyes, hands slightly outstretched. Bah, squirrels ... they think they're so cute.

2005-08-05T16:47:00.000Z

The other day, Eric said incredulously "You mean acorns come from oak trees?".

I saw a squirrel eating an acorn! How cliched is that?!?! Hyde Park is full of "acorn trees" at the moment.

2005-08-05T16:46:00.000Z

More astonishing than the acorns, is the sight of these blackberries!! Growing wild! I always used to curse these big stretches of thorny, suspiciously-leaved-like-nettles bushes that line the river ... only now I know they are blackberry bushes and have spotted many a local Londoner stopping to eat the ripe fruit. They look a lot like our mulberries. Wonder if they taste the same. Not sure if I have the courage to try one ... will have to take them home to wash first.

Food on trees, freely available to the public, ahhh warms a Chinaman's heart.

2005-08-05T16:45:00.000Z

Since the beginning of spring, I've been following the progress of this mother swan and her four chicks/swanlets/ducklings. She's kept them well away from the main pack/flock/gaggle/group of swans because despite their appearances, swans are actually very aggressive birds. The last time I saw these little ones they were still covered in down and didn't have feathers yet. Now you can see they're almost full-sized, feathered, but still grey.

Ahh, brings a tear to the eye. *sniff*

2005-08-05T16:44:00.000Z

Dog poo isn't the problem in Hyde Park, it's this : geese shit. These geese are BIG. They come up to my knees and when you get too close to them, they hiss and lunge. There are millions of these birds all over the park and consequently, the ground is covered with large, 10cm-15cm x 2cm green bombs. They're mushy and fill all those bits on your sneaker sole that a stick can't get into.

2005-08-05T16:43:00.000Z

Midway in my route, I always go through a massive rose garden which is full of bumblebees. Having never seen them in Australia, I get quite thrilled at the site of a clearly "buzzing", yellow and black striped, furry, round blob the size of a 10cent coin. ie. MR DOOBY!! This bee has even got pollen all over its legs.

2005-08-05T16:42:00.000Z

Another bumblebee. Oh yes, even though it's a rose garden, it has other flowers in it too.

2005-08-05T16:41:00.000Z

A slight deviation out of Hyde Park, and you come to this spectacular monument - Wellington Arch at Hyde Park Corner. They say that you can have a party inside one of those horse statues. Since the tube bombings, bicycle sales have gone up by 100% in London ... it was all I could do to avoid the rush of cyclists on their way to work.

2005-08-05T16:40:00.000Z

Following the cyclists through Wellington Arch and down a tree-lined rather majestic avenue, I suddenly came to this.

"Hmm, looks rather grand" I thought to myself. Circling round the huge round-about to take this picture, I suddenly spied red uniforms and black fluffy hats - AHA! Buckingham Palace!!! I never knew Buckingham Palace was just around the corner from my house!

2005-08-05T16:39:00.000Z

Couldn't resist taking a picture of this equestrian crossing. Only in England!!

2005-08-05T16:38:00.000Z

Even funnier is the dedicated horse pedestrian crossing button (see up high on the traffic light). Oh and the dedicated bike pedestrian crossing button.

2005-08-05T16:37:00.000Z

When I see this bridge, I know I'm almost back to the beginning of my route, and at the moment, the river is lined with these pretty yellow flowers.

Hyde Park in summer is a really nice place to be, but bring your own picnic blanket because you get charged 4 pounds to sit on a deck chair and no patch of grass is goose poo-free.

Will be going away to Turkey for two weeks backpacking. Will give an update on Parissa and Mr Pig (who have been spending all their time on the elliptical) when I get back.

"I still call Australia, I still call Australia...."

2005-08-04T16:27:00.000Z

Weather : (is it ever any different?) Chance of showers, intermittently cloudy
Temperature at midday : 19 degrees Celsius
Current mood : slightly flustered but chirpy

"You don't know what you've got till it's gone" - should be my catchphrase for the past month. First it was a 10 day visit to Singapore to surprise Eric's dad on his 60th birthday - a trip filled with glorious food, catching up with friends/family/babies, warm weather and fabulous shopping. Suddenly, everything was affordable and available. Foodcourts, hawker centres, seafood buffets and an exchange rate that made it a crime not to buy that $50 skirt. And what a luxury, being spoilt rotten by the parents (in-law) who ensured every comfort was catered for - who worries about 2am insomnia when rambutans, mangosteins and an endless supply of novels and cold drinks are close at hand?

The next two and a half weeks were spent in wintery Sydney where the sky was that Australian bright bright blue and so high above you get a crick in your neck craning to see how high it goes. And of course, 'winter' is 22 degrees celsius with cloudless sunshine and light crisp breezes. I never missed it until I saw it again .. now, Qantas may as well employ me 'cause I've been singing their theme song ever since. My two weeks in Sydney were the best! Makoto, thainatown, dumplings, korean hotpot, superbowl, yumcha, casino and high-rollers room (with free cocktails and buffet), all the old favourites plus the company of best friends (who specially made time - thanks guys) and family (who seemed uncharacteristically indulgent of my wishes). To top it all off, a weekend skiing (where the unheard of happened - we didn't ski Sunday!! A sure sign of old age) complete with throw-caution-to-the-wind races, hours of painful "Animal, Vegetable or Mineral", cornbeef (not dog food) sandwiches, poker tournaments and the makings of "the Modern Australian Woman" calender.

2005-08-04T14:09:00.000Z

The Modern Australian Woman

A general update

2005-06-14T16:25:00.000Z

Weather : as usual, intermittently cloudy threatening rain
Temperature at midday : 16 degrees Celsius
Current mood : usual mellow with cheery leaning

Hello friends! A few exciting things have been happening in the Mr Pig and Parrisa/Parissa household :-

1) Atkins update: It's been 3 weeks of hard work, planning and plenty of tinned tuna. The results : Parissa has lost 3 kg (now 79kg...absolutely unprecedented!) and Mr Pig has lost 4kg (now 54kg ... slightly disappointing). Overall, there was minimal suffering during the 3 weeks, and the hardest part was not drinking when out with friends. Parissa frequently lamented the lack of a cold beer after a hard day's work, while Mr Pig just craved alcohol of any sort. Parissa also complained of mild lack of energy, but felt that his mental clarity was better (Atkins says this is due to stabilisation of blood sugar levels). Mr Pig felt that she should have lost more than 4kg, which was really achieved by the end of the first week, and attributed her plateau-ed weight loss to a far greater calorie input than calorie output. Afterall, she rarely used to eat breakfast or lunch and was now wolfing down 3 solid meals a day (hmmm.. so why was there any weight loss at all?) . Therefore, as of this morning, Mr Pig switched over to the Low GI diet, whilst Parissa decided to continue on Atkins (not willing to cut back on meat consumption yet).

Mr Pig's new diet consists of :
Drinks : decaffeinated drinks, water and skim-milk
Breakfast : 1 apple and 1 boiled egg
Lunch : salad with 120g skin-less chicken meat and fat-free salad dressing, berry salad (strawberries, raspberries, blueberries) with low-fat cottage cheese
Snack : low fat, low sugar yoghurt
Dinner : 120g meat portion with 50g pasta and unlimited vegetables
Dessert : fruit with low fat, low sugar ice cream
...contrasted with Parissa's diet of :
Drinks: decaffeinated drinks, water and cream
Breakfast : 2 fried eggs and 2 rashers of bacon
Snack : pastrami sticks
Lunch : half a cucumber with chicken and mayonnaise
Snack : 100g cheddar cheese and olives
Dinner : large steak with 120g salad
Dessert: none
Next update : 3 more weeks (with before and after pictures)

2) Exercise alert : I've started walking Eric to the tube station in the morning (after cooking the bacon and eggs and preparing his lunch) and then continuing on to jog/walk/saunter through Hyde Park. As usual, jogging is a huge effort for me, and I get easily distracted by the geese/swans/dogs/squirrels which, by sheer coincidence, always appear just as I start to get tired. Of course I have to stop and watch their antics (the funniest being a tiny Jack Russell terrier humping the right hind leg of an obliging Golden Retriever). Thus, I doubt my fitness is actually improving. Anyway, even if I did manage to conquer my jogging jinx, come winter, when it gets dark at 4pm, I will no longer be able to use Hyde Park. So, this weekend, I went out and spent 525 pounds on an elliptical!!!! It will look absolutely ridiculous in our tiny living room, but, what price is too high for health? I figured that a gym membership would cost 480 pounds per person, plus Eric would never ever go to a gym, so really, there was no other alternative. Will post up pictures when it is installed in the flat. I'm looking forward to hours and hours of jogging on the elliptical whilst watching Friends, Sex and the City and The Practice. Eric will be doing his jogging to Futurama, Stargate, and old Steven Seagull movies. Best of all, we don't have to worry about osteoarthritis because it's "low-impact". Huzzah!

3) The box saga : Finally, the boxes are unpacked. UNPACKED!! Would take an "after" photo, but too drained. It has been a mammoth task involving hundreds of trips to the recycling bin (yes, the "postman" bin) and many battles with bubblewrap and vacuum bags. I've discovered that doors hide things (ie. golf bags) very well, and sheer brute force IS a legitimate way of closing a cupboard (along with shoelaces to tie the doors together). There are still many things to fix up (such as speaker connections and paperwork) but all in all, you can now walk in and out of a room without having to turn sideways. YAY!!!! Best of all, I can now start cooking properly - and the Low GI diet book has many muffin recipes I must try out.

4) Latest travels : After the traveling haze that was April/May, (Latvia/Paris/Spain/Portugal), May/June has turned out to be much slower and relaxing - Normandy (France), Manchester (UK) and the Lakes District (UK). Highlights from the Normandy trip would have to be the D-day landing sites, the Saving-Private-Ryan-like white crossed memorials, accidentally having an Aussie BBQ at a vegetarian meditation retreat, driving the car legally at a highway speed limit of 130km/hr. Manchester - home of Manchester United - I stayed in a 5 star hotel room the entire 3 days, only emerging to explore the "People's Museum" where I learnt that the origin of the labour movement and socialism is Manchester! The Lakes District - quite pretty, Eric thinks "stunning", but I felt it lacked the size to be truly spectacular. Imagine Hobbiton and that is what the Lakes District is like. Of note, we saw Wordsworth's grave and signs to the Beatrice Potter gallery (Peter Rabbit), had the most delicious olives EVER and bought their world famous gingerbread...currently frozen in the freezer (not Atkins friendly).

A Whinge-On-Pom no. 2
If I ever complained about navigating through Sydney's CBD with all the one-way streets and congestion, I take it all back. Never did I ever choose public transport over driving a car when I had the chance to ... but not so in London! In fact, even when armed with a navigator, map, explicit instructions downloaded from an on-line route planner, one can still get lost. Entirely lost. And not even figure out when or where one went wrong. A common phrase is "keep going straight on this road ... if you can" - this is because London is an absolutely sh*thole of a place to drive through. Streets not only look identical, but road signs are small white plaques on the side of houses (ie. not in the intersection), one way streets and traffic lights are not marked on the map, lanes suddenly merge without any warning, and the roads are so narrow that if there are cars parked (as they are allowed to), you are forced to cut halfway into on-coming traffic. Finally, if you managed to get to your destination, you'd be 30 minutes late because of the congestion, and have absolutely no where to park except in ticket areas (and even then, you'd be lucky). But because you were late to start with , you would then return to your car late, only to find it had been clamped and towed away exactly 3 minutes after the ticket expired. Parking inspectors only patrol 2 streets and have been known to stand by a car waiting for the ticket to run out. Arghhhhh!

2005-06-13T21:29:00.000Z

This is the Vision X6000 elliptical that will be in our living room in 2 weeks time. Quite large. In fact, it is taller than I am (except when I am standing on it).

Atkins Dieting Week 1 - Induction

2005-05-26T11:02:00.000Z

Weather : cloudy with chance of showers
Temperature at midday: 18 degrees Celsius
Current mood : chirpy

Having spent the past 5 weeks living the high life with the in-laws, on top of the Heathrow Injection, Mr Pig was beginning to get short of breath walking up inclines and having to shift rolls of fat in order to get comfortable in bed.

Truth be told, Mr Pig could see the weight piling on weeks ago. Skirts with elastic waistbands were becoming the clothing of choice ... so Dr Atkins' New Diet Revolution was bought and read in preparation for D-Day (ie. the end of traveling and the day the in-laws returned to Singapore) : 24th May 2005

First weigh in :- Mr Pig 58kg (BMI = 23.0) !!! Parissa 82kg (BMI = 25.3)
(Strange - Mr Pig had never been heavier in all living memory... and Parissa had never been lighter, except in army days)

2005-05-26T11:01:00.000Z

Parissa, a self-proclaimed carbohydrate addict, was very apprehensive about the Atkins diet. Could Parissa survive without rice for a whole 6 weeks??

Mr Pig's philosophy was that one could put up with anything for 6 weeks, especially if it meant shifting weight quickly without having to go hungry! Atkins claims that cholesterol and blood pressure are improved by his diet regime, and that warnings of kidney/liver damage are unfounded. In fact, having read the book from cover to cover, Mr Pig could see that what really happens is that after the initial eating binge of the first couple of days, the amount of protein and fat one consumes is actually no more than what one would normally eat. Weight loss results from cutting out all the carbohydrates ... which means, primarily, junk food - chips, desserts, chocolate, lollies, snackbars, deep fried crumbed food - and unfortunately, also cuts out all fruit and caffeine and alcohol. It isn't until the "weight maintainence" phase of the diet that small amounts of carbohydrate can be re-introduced slowly.

Anyway, Mr Pig and Parissa plan to 'do Atkins' for 6 weeks, then transition into the 'Low GI' diet for maintenance. And, starting from next week, walking/jogging through Hyde Park will become a daily routine...hopefully!

2005-05-26T11:00:00.000Z

A typical day's menu :
Breakfast - two eggs with bacon and sausages, either microwaved or fried with decaffeinated coffee
Lunch - chicken strips with 200g leafy salad and mayonnaise
Dinner - steak with 140g leafy salad
Snacks throughout the day - chorizo, cheese, ham, olives, boiled eggs
Drinks - 2.5L of water plus any amount of decaffeinated teas. The only sweetener allowed is Splenda.

The picture above is of the 1.2kg Chorizo (sausage made from Iberian pig ... fed on acorns) that I brought back from Spain. In London they sell 100g for 6pounds 50 pence. I bought my entire Chorizo for 6 pounds! Yay! And it is soooooooooooooooo delicious!! It has to be rationed out on a daily basis...Parissa could eat 100g in one sitting.

Unpacking ... eeeek!

2005-05-24T11:38:00.000Z

Weather : Drizzles/Rain and wind
Temperature at midday: 16 degrees Celsius
Current mood : Great!

While I was traipsing around Latvia, our 51 boxes arrived from Australia. Yes, fifty one. I am told it was quite a task to get them into the flat. Considering a) that we live on the 3rd floor; b) that I'd packed the larger boxes with weights (Before-30-Resolution no. 5 = get fit ); c) that the elevator was only 90cm x 90cm x 200cm (w x l x h) and; d) that the extra man we'd paid 100 pounds for to help unload the van (because the driver wasn't allowed to leave the vehicle nor lift anything) didn't turn up, I was thanking my lucky stars that all _I_ had to think about was which type of pickled herring I would eat that day for breakfast.

It's hard to imagine what 51 boxes look like. I realised that even though I had packed them, I couldn't remember how big the boxes were. I also didn't remember exactly how small our flat was. So I got quite a shock when I came home a few days ago to see this :-

This was formerly our spare bedroom. The door knobs on the cupboards you see are actually way above head height. Those boxes are stacked from the floor up.

2005-05-24T08:38:00.000Z

This is our bedroom. If you turn sideways, you can actually get to the other side of the bed. There are also boxes stacked on either side of the bed, blocking the cupboards. Hmmm this is beginning to sound familiar ... (a tribute to Bec's eBay hoarder).

2005-05-24T08:32:00.001Z

And finally, this is the living room. It is still possible to sit on one couch and have a view of the television.

Yesterday, during my first day of unpacking, I made a discovery in the kitchen - a mysterious metal strip that runs along one wall (which I had previously cursed as being yet another surface for dust and oil grime to collect) turns out to be ... magnetic! Remember my confusion re: lack of drawers and cupboards and where to put utensils? Well, all you have to do is hang everything made of metal on the wall. I only unearthed this gem as I was trying to balance a whisk on the top of the strip (because everything must be "put away" on a ledge of some sort) when it rolled off, but didn't fall. Now the whisk, my fabulous potato peeler, a spatula and that grabby-thing-to-lift-out-bowls-from-steamers are hanging up. The ledges, however, are still lined with chopsticks.

E. Coli, Shigella, Cryptosporidium, Giardia, Hepatitis A ....

2005-04-15T15:53:00.000Z

Weather : cloudy and overcast with occasional drizzle
Temperature at midday : 13 degrees Celsius
Current mood : usual upbeat

There is one distinct advantage to renting from a family friend : when something goes wrong, instead of waiting days for an agent to contact the landlord and then get back to you with the response, the landlord is at the end of a phone and you get INSTANT service! Plus, because you know that you ain't going to be footing the bill, instead of putting up with a leak until the whole ceiling caves in, you get it fixed immediately.

This is our bathroom. Predictably small, exposed pipes and mouldy grouting, fittings mostly held together by glue and all surfaces susceptible to lime scale. It is a pretty good bathroom for a flat of this vintage - note the "power shower" (in fact, amazing that there is a shower at all), the copper fittings and of course, the answer to avoiding piles in winter : the wooden toilet seat.

2005-04-15T15:48:00.000Z

One and a half weeks ago, Mr Pig was wondering why the toilet seat was always wet (noticed only AFTER sitting). At first she thought Parissa was getting her back for insisting that the toilet seat should always be down, but soon it became apparent that the light fitting directly above the toilet had sprung a leak. Hmmm...where could the water be coming from?

2005-04-15T15:47:00.000Z

Over the next few days, the leak became more noticeable. It had become impossible to use the toilet and avoid being dripped on. The water smelt funny too. Luckily for Mr Pig, it never took her longer than 30secs to do number two. Not so lucky for Parissa who liked to read whilst on the bog. Time to call the landlord.

To assess and quantify the severity of the leak, Mr Pig put a salad bowl under the dripping light. It crossed her mind that the flat upstairs probably had their bathroom directly overhead. A few hours later, Mr Pig was horrified to see that the water was YELLOW and filling the bowl at an alarming rate. Everybody's worst fears were realised when the landlord confirmed that the toilet upstairs was leaking.

2005-04-15T15:46:00.000Z

It only took a day and a half for the landlord to find the missing rubber seal needed to fix the toilet upstairs. In the meantime, Mr Pig made good use of the living room lampshade - it's always better to be safe than sorry!

P.S. Finally finished scrubbing the toilet floors clean with a regular bathroom cleaning agent mixed with some hydrochloric acid, two sponges and a bucket of boiling water. Couldn't find any hospital-grade disinfectant at the local supermarket. The bathroom now looks beaaautiful, but my hands are cracked and peeling...gloves must have had a hole.
P.P.S. Parents in-law are arriving tomorrow evening which could mean a month-long break till the next blog entry.
P.P.P.S. Off to Latvia on Monday. Are they famous for sausages? If so, I will be eating plenty of them.

Getting started...

2005-04-11T15:30:00.000Z

Weather : sunny with intermittent cloudy periods
Temperature at midday : 18 degrees Celsius
Current mood : Slightly bored, but upbeat

The second thing to ask when moving into any new place (after "Is there hot water?") is : Where do I throw my rubbish?

When our landlord told us to throw our rubbish into "the big black bin" halfway down the street, we didn't know he meant that literally.

Westminster council also provide recycling bins - the worst recycling bins known to man (although Ku-Ring-Gai council's worm farm answer to garden waste is a close second). These bins are half the size of the one in the picture (ie. large), but instead of one massive lid, they have an opening the size of an envelope - sort of like a postbox flap. A newspaper won't fit into the opening unless you take it apart and fold the pages in half. So when it came to recycling 8 large Argos and Ikea boxes, I spent half a day blunting several penknife blades cutting up all the boxes into envelope-sized pieces, then did 3 granny trolley runs out to the bins, propped open the lid with a stick, and spent so long inserting the cardboard piece by piece that children in the childcare centre opposite yelled out "Look! It's the mailman!".

2005-04-11T15:29:00.000Z

Our local pub (of which there are actually 3) has quite an impressive pub-food menu. Our first meal at a pub consisted of the obligatory fish and chips with green-pea mash (ala Harry's Cafe de Wheels), a cheesy stew, and 2 pints of warm Guinness. It was all to celebrate getting a mobile phone and bank account.

A Whing-on-Pom no. 1 :
There cannot be a more beauracratic place than London. In order to open a bank account, one must first have a place of residence. But to get a place of residence, one must have a bank account. Furthermore, if one managed to bunk in with a friend or have friends as landlords, additional proof of residence in terms of utility bills or council tax bills must still be provided. In such a land, it would be surprising if it took less than a month before these bills are sent out, and in the mean time, trying to set up phone rental, TV rental, internet etc without a bank account and UK-issued credit card becomes almost impossible. Finally, "Mr Pig" cannot be named on any of the utility bills, and must be instead "Mrs Parissa" . A country that doesn't recognise a woman's right to keep her maiden name!! Even when armed with the marriage certificate, the bank STILL didn't recognise Mr Pig's identity... admitting that there would have been no trouble creating a joint account under "Mr and Mrs Parissa" but they were unable to do the same for "Parissa and Mr Pig". The issue remains unresolved....further updates to come!

Three weeks and 5 days after moving into their London flat, Mr Pig and Parissa witnessed a miracle: British Telecom connected the phone line, and through that precious copper connection, Home Choice was able to install on-demand television, broadband internet and free evening local calls. After the initial shouts of rapture and rejoicing died away, for the next 72 hours, no noise could be heard coming from the flat except for the theme music to The Practice at 42 minute intervals.

Ewwwwwww GERMS!!!!

2005-04-08T15:00:00.000Z

Poor Parissa is struck down with a cold, most likely caught from holding onto the dirty tube/train railings (usually greasy and warm). Symptoms : sore throat, dry cough, stuffy head, red eyes, blocked nose, hearing loss. Diagnosis : some dirty London virus. Prognosis : negative !

Mr Pig, who packed an entire pharmacy into her suitcase from Sydney, ironically (yes Marissa, it _is_ ironic) didn't bring any medicines that would help relieve Parissa's symptoms. Not a single Strepsil, no eyedrops, no decongestants, no cough suppressors. Poor Parissa began to complain of a raw nose and it was plain to all that it wouldn't be long till a bald patch developed. Mr Pig, who loves window shopping in pharmacies, promptly went off and spent her 3 day allowance on a variety of "placebo" medication.

2005-04-08T14:03:00.000Z

Alas, 5 days later, Mr Pig, usually resistant to germs of every description, also succumbed to illness ....but wouldn't admit to it. Caught in the act of stealing Parissa's medicines in the middle of the night, she quickly accused Parissa of turning the bedroom into a flippin' refrigerator and that it was no wonder she had a sore throat and squeaky voice.

In the beginning...

2005-04-06T16:29:00.000Z

Mr Pig, recently saved from the dual horrors of seaside humidity and fun fair fairy floss fingers, now residing in Bayswater, London.

2005-04-06T16:26:00.000Z

Mr Pig and Parissa, newly weds, lounge on their skin-coloured cracking vinyl couch. Parissa really likes the bright cushions Mr Pig has bought from Ikea and just can't stop smiling. The sun couldn't be shining any brighter from Mr Pig's behind.

2005-04-06T16:23:00.000Z

Arriving in London in the middle of a snap chill, Mr Pig and Parissa brave the rain, snow and sleet to ride the deserted open-top tour bus. Unfortunately Parissa's eyes got frozen shut as his parka hood was too small for his head and was no protection at all. Mr Pig's bladder shrunk to the size of a peanut in the cold and she had to keep getting off the bus to use the restrooms of the various sights. The bathroom in Selfridges was very upper crust.

2005-04-06T16:19:00.000Z

Weather : mostly sunny with occaisional spots of rain
Temperature at midday : 15 degrees Celcius
Current mood : cheerful

HELLO friends! The much anticipated moment has arrived ... I am now a blogger! It's very difficult to resist the urge to put up heaps and heaps of photographs. A "picture says 1000 words" but they are not usually entertaining. In the words of a wise Miss M.Wong, the purpose of a blog is to entertain ... so I will instead put up heaps of photos with witty comments attached.

I have been on the shores of Her Majesty the Queen for exactly 5 weeks and 1 day now. Our 106kg of luggage just managed to fit into 1 of the 2 cars that picked us up from the airport. All of a sudden the #4.96 (from this moment on, the #will be my pound sign seeing as there isn't one on this keyboard) box of chocolates hastily bought from the airport gift shop seemed embarrassingly inadequate as a thank you gift to the family friends that met us at Heathrow. That box shrunk even smaller as it became obvious that aunty was not a frequent driver and was braving the London roads specially for us. Going out of the airport carpark, Parissa's usual ruddy cheeks turned snow white as dear aunty drove up the median strip and jammed the front wheel into the base of the ticket machine, manouvered till cars were honking behind us, then floored it to get under the boom gate (which was by now descending rapidly) ... forgetting that she was in reverse. Thankfully the brakes on her Honda Civic were well-maintained... and dear aunty clearly didn't believe that brakes worked unless slammed on (ala Bec in the early years of driving). Parissa's ever-present smile was significantly diminished and large head kinked to the right side by the end of the 40 minute ride mostly because of missed freeway and round-about exits... It was like that scene from Lampoon's European Vacation: "There's Big Ben again!" .

2005-04-06T16:17:00.000Z

After being warned by everybody that living space was a premium in London, I had pretty low expectations. In fact, I was expecting to arrive at an old, mouldy, teeny weeny flat in a dirty street.

2005-04-06T16:15:00.000Z

So imagine my surprise when we pull into No. 18 Queensborough Terrace, a quiet tree-lined street with a mix of brown and white brick terrace houses. Our apartment .. sorry, "flat" is on the 3rd floor with bedroom windows overlooking the street.

2005-04-06T16:10:00.000Z

Standing at the foot of the front porch, one can choose to go left towards the shops and tube station, or right towards Hyde Park and the Malaysian High Commission where Parissa can pig out on Nasi Goreng if Mr Pig doesn't feel like cooking...

2005-04-06T16:05:00.000Z

... because cooking in a kitchen like this would require the patience of an elephant, not a pig.
Note the fake "drawers" that don't pull out and the first knob on the clothing washer/dryer that falls off and rolls into that gap between the oven and sink with every spin cycle. And yes, your eyes are not deceiving you, that _is_ a yellow microwave.
And if the colour wasn't enough to discourage its use, try angling a plate through the 30 degree gap that is the microwave door jammed against the dish rack, WITHOUT spilling anything. That is a task beyond the capabilities of poor Mr Pig who ate a good amount of cold soup before discovering the wonders of pre-packaged and pre-sealed meals.