This follows from my blog entry earlier this week. Again, the disclaimer is there so I won't get dirty looks or not hear from some of my friends in future.

Street Food Galore

With the ever-increasing number of food trucks, food courts, hawker centers and mamak stalls, one starts to think "why bother?". And by the way, have you checked out The Big Group's newer eateries (they're expanding too fast at the expense of quality service and food, in my humble opinion) or the latest Din Tai Fung (err... the Singaporean one, not the one in KL) yet? Speaking of which, I'm also thinking of the Muar gluttons' street wantan mee... You see where we're heading? Exactly! Why bother cooking? 

Look, I love eating out too. But too much of a good thing can be bad for you. How many of us actually pay attention to the amount of pork lard in that serving of char kway teow? The sugar and condensed milk in our teh tarik? "But it just tastes soooo good!", we'd whine. Sure, when it does and we get thirsty, it's probably a few ounces of MSG in the broth. It is affordable and convenient after a day's work, no one's denying that. But what are we doing to our bodies? And again, what are we teaching our children eating out all the time? More importantly, the children can eat without you? No, I don't mean you should hold it against them, let me explain in a bit.

Do you enjoy ironing? 

Sorry, let me rephrase... How does the thought of ironing make you feel?

I used to despise it and thus bought only clothes that didn't require ironing. Until I got married, had to iron some of the husband's shirts occasionally, still hated it though a little less, and later on, became more competent at it and have since grown to like it.

Most people dread ironing largely because they never really learned how to, let alone realized how their choice (or the lack thereof) of iron and ironing board can totally affect their experience. It's almost like driving a car. Before buying it, you would have asked: Are the seats comfortable enough to take you through a 5-kilometer jam? Does the dashboard look cool enough for you? How does the steering wheel feel? And the accelerator? Does the car say "you" all over? Will you and the vehicle become one on the road? 

Now I know some of you may laugh at what I've just said. Of course we'd ask ourselves 101 questions before buying a car! After all it is a major financial commitment we're signing ourselves to. An iron and the accompanying board cost no more than a couple of hundred bucks tops. Why think so much? 

Oh wait, before I continue: if you think ironing is something only maids do because they are paid and thus have no choice but to do so, you can stop reading now and get back to Facebooking. Otherwise, please carry on :)

We spent last week in KL and finally met our relocation agent in person. My head spun after nearly 20 apartments across 11 developments within a 2-km radius -- all in three days jet-lag inclusive. It's exhilarating and sure beats the hell out of watching episodes of HGTV's House Hunters (International) on the couch!

The property market in KL city center is very dynamic with established developments competing against a handful of recently completed ones. We even saw one which was so new the kitchen fittings have yet to be even installed. But it was funny because minutes before that unit, we were in the show unit which was so tastefully done up by the interior designers. Should have recorded the husband's face when we stepped into the actual unit. But oh, if only we could extract that kitchen and family area right next to it for our next home!

It's Monday morning bright and early - 6:20am - at the KLM lounge at Schiphol: soft eclectic mix of music accompany the early (mostly tired nonetheless) business executives; delightful clinking of glasses and frothing of milk from the coffee machines at the food service area. And what truly draws the line between relaxing and relaxing: no smartypants monkeying around (yes, he's almost like Tom Cruise on Oprah's couch), only to outdo himself later by catching bubbles with his mouth, reporting his every achievement to the mother, who probably thinks her son is the world's most adorable kid, never mind that he's disturbing everyone else around. 

Smartypants aside, nor are there young, eager, first-time Asian parents who attend to their baby's cooing. (Seriously!) I'm not racist but I think it is just the Asian parenting style. Young mummy kept shushing the little one so that baby will sleep and not make noise. But she didn't realize she was the cause of annoyance because whenever she does her larger-than-life spin of "sshhh, ssshhhh, sssshhhh...... ssh, ssshhhhh.......", she could put the entire section of passengers to sleep. Just that we're all adults, hullo... One word to her: SHHHHHHHH.

"Hey, I think it's because of the chair," I told the husband.
"Why? What about it?"
"Well, last night your dad sat here and he won; tonight I'm sitting here and you see what's happening?" 

I was on my first ever winning streak - my third in a row, the fourth win for the night. "First ever" as in all the trips I've ever made to this house. You see, JL's parents are very good at rami, better known as rummy to everyone else (I think!). I'm no good with cards - the last card game I played regularly was chor dai dee back in uni days when a few of us just refused to study. That too, I can hardly recall. 

My three opponents are all experts. Our two senior citizens are naturally good at it since they play regularly with their equally-senior buddies. The husband is very good at it because his mathematical mind processes at lightning-speed. Me? I just teach my students how to use the scientific calculator. Counting fast, let alone in different combinations, up to only 52 can bring about a headache.

We saw our container driven away for Marseille yesterday. It was a long day for JL who had been with the movers since morning. Glad we won't be doing this for the next three years at least. I only joined the party after lunch and they sure worked fast! 

The garage had already been half-emptied before the guys went for their lunch break. As most of the boxes (packed in Singapore two years ago) are still in good condition, the guys only had to redo their inventory list using their own labels. 

Nonetheless our three Bulgarian acquaintances came armed with new boxes in assorted sizes. Not too bad, because they've come all the way from Lyon and they'd better not forget nor run short of anything they need. Otherwise it'd be three hours' drive both ways to get it!

This will be the last of my two-cents' worth on packing for moving. In the past week, we've been taking our own sweet time - no pressure in all honesty - collecting the stuff we've accumulated post-Singapore for packing. It's all over the FIL's house: some in our bedroom cupboard, or under the bed, others in JL's own bedroom (which had recently been taken over by the 7-year-old nephew whenever), and mostly in the UPS boxes from our time in Cambridge at the garage. 

Tomorrow the movers will come to pick up these ones, and the whole lot of the rest at the other garage (read: what used to constitute our "home" in Singapore). Apparently, the container will only be on the waters for 25 days. Add 10 working days or so to both ends of the customs, it should arrive in KL within 6-8 weeks. Fingers crossed that no fire incident onboard the ship this time!

So the 101 was on respect for all things paper. What else to prepare yourself with before a week of serious packing? Here are some of my favourites through our moves:

Make a list. I love lists! If you don't, at least make one in your head and hope that you'll remember it. I write them down because my memory fails me when my limps are aching. The list should contain the items you want to pack. You don't have to explicitly spell it all out, just categorize them eg. house linens, books (JL's school texts, comics, my French books, cookbooks, and so on), paintings, winter clothes, the likes. The more you can group them, the better organized you will be when you get down to the actual packing. And the better you can imagine packing your stuff, the more you can identify what is required: custom-built wooden crate for paintings, packs of desiccants, bubble wraps, which sizes for your carton boxes, etc. 

I am a boxer. Oh yes, a very seasoned boxer and in fact, as professional as the ones who earn their keep at it. I hold no punches when it comes to ensuring zero-hairline-breakage to my gratin dishes and precious beer mugs and pint glasses. I wrapped them all up - piece by piece - with clean larger-than-broadsheet-size paper.  I am reluctant to leave them in the hands of professional movers because insurance cover is merely that. Insurance cover can never replace sentimental value.

Since we packed up our home and left Singapore back in June 2010, we've been living out of just four suitcases. The contents would vary according to the direction we're heading: from Singapore to France; France to US; US back to France; France to Malaysia; and most recently, Malaysia back to France.

Between these places, together we've consumed countless bottles of travel-size facewash, shampoo, moisturiser, tissues, and medication. In fact, we even have a travel-size pharmacy all this while. It is not at all environmentally friendly (so many plastic containers!) but we promise once we set up the next home, toiletries will come in bulk sizes. 

Clothes and shoes were dropped off and picked up due to climate difference. Sometimes we brought also gifts between these stops. And kitchenware too, like my multi-ingredient measuring glass which JL used as beer glass; or the adorable mini-whisk that came with the pack of shaved chocolates sent by our former neighbour in Cambridge. Surely I wouldn't leave them behind on check-out day? 

Living under such logistical constraints in temporary accommodation, we've also surprised ourselves at how much we have accumulated just within nine months. We constantly reminded each other against unnecessary purchases: books, magazines, stationeries - these our usual items - let alone everything else.

JL had only four shirts, two ties, two pairs of pants. Paired with jeans, bermudas or capris, Lacoste seemed to be our "uniform" since they are versatile in KL weather and never go out of shape after washing. My six-year-old niece once asked why I "always wear the same baju"! Good thing we only met up every few weeks - imagine what she'd think of me had we met more frequently. It was only in the last two months that I caved in and bought new clothes during short trips to Singapore. 

Luckily we had Ano-san who generously allowed us to store two boxes of accumulated stuff (which we don't need at the moment) at his place. We are also thankful to have met really nice people in those months of idling away, especially the staff at Somerset Ampang, and to have received such kindness and generosity from friends and family alike.