After a long wait, several false starts and a bout of arguing with the boss, GP is now on sabbatical for 3 month. 3 months! Blimey.....
My enlightened employer (I honestly mean that with no irony) allows us all to take a 3 month, paid sabbatical every 4 years of work. This is in part a working break - developing IP for the business, furthering our own interests and so on - but also about recharging and taking a big step back from the day to day grind of consultancy.
The furthering interests part of the sabbatical fell into place quite quickly - I'll be pursuing a course in Sustainability. Ironically I will have to fly to the UK 3 times in 3 months to do this (OK - I chose to do that, and I'm currently looking at the best way of off setting all the CO2 and guilt that comes with it).
The recharging part is proving more tricky. For someone who is used to racing around from one thing to another, and often at the beck and call of clients and so on, suddenly not having a full diary is, well, scary....
Did I mention that I wasn't expecting to get any sympathy for this post?
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Let's get physical, physical....I wanna get physical!!!!!!
GP is used to being, if not super healthy, then at least in some sort of shape.
At school and through university I loved sport, all types, and would spend most days playing something. Netball was always my main sport, but I'd happily pitch up and make the numbers for just about any team sport going. And so, I'm an enthusiastic amateur at hockey, rowing, rugby, softball etc etc etc.
In my early 30s I discovered running. The job got in the way of committing to regular practices for anything, and if there's something that does get my goat it's letting people down and not being able to train properly. Not on for a team sport. However, one thing running has going for it is that it's 100% portable, and, with a bit of determination you can fit it around any schedule. For a couple of years I REALLY got into running, completing 2 marathons and numerous halves. It helped that a group of us were all keen, and would go running together. I must have been really fit, although irritatingly I didn't realise it at the time. We'd go out and run 2 - 3 hours no problem, for goodness sake!
Anyway, then to HK and discovering outrigging. Wonderful sport, and, almost more importantly in the surreal place that HK can be, wonderful, grounded people too. It's kept me fit and sane for the past 3 years.
Now unfortunately 2008 has not been an auspicious year for GP's fitness, and more importantly figure. A bout of flu, a lot of travel and too many nights out have all taken their toll. Finally I have reached a tipping point where something has to change. This project (provisional title: "Work that Wrapper!") has been on the blocks since, oh, January, when I bought a heart rate monitor and tiny ipod thing that I can go running with. However, WTW! has now begun in earnest due to 1) a call from my gym to check I was ok as it was so long since they'd seen me 2) just seeing too many photos that didn't show a version of me that I'm happy with and 3) 3 long glorious months that I'll be on sabbatical and so therefore able to spend the time exercising (amongst of course other things - watch this space..)
And so today, I was out on the water, paddling in the glorious post typhoon swells, for an hour wearing my heart rate monitor. I know we have to start somewhere, and I was pleased to see that by the end of the session I'd burned off a mighty 701 calories. The more depressing figure was the "time in zone" stat - i.e. when your heart rate is raised but not pounding, and when you're really improving your fitness.
Of the 1.06.09 duration I was in my optimal training zone for...................2 minutes 32 seconds. Hurrah!
At school and through university I loved sport, all types, and would spend most days playing something. Netball was always my main sport, but I'd happily pitch up and make the numbers for just about any team sport going. And so, I'm an enthusiastic amateur at hockey, rowing, rugby, softball etc etc etc.
In my early 30s I discovered running. The job got in the way of committing to regular practices for anything, and if there's something that does get my goat it's letting people down and not being able to train properly. Not on for a team sport. However, one thing running has going for it is that it's 100% portable, and, with a bit of determination you can fit it around any schedule. For a couple of years I REALLY got into running, completing 2 marathons and numerous halves. It helped that a group of us were all keen, and would go running together. I must have been really fit, although irritatingly I didn't realise it at the time. We'd go out and run 2 - 3 hours no problem, for goodness sake!
Anyway, then to HK and discovering outrigging. Wonderful sport, and, almost more importantly in the surreal place that HK can be, wonderful, grounded people too. It's kept me fit and sane for the past 3 years.
Now unfortunately 2008 has not been an auspicious year for GP's fitness, and more importantly figure. A bout of flu, a lot of travel and too many nights out have all taken their toll. Finally I have reached a tipping point where something has to change. This project (provisional title: "Work that Wrapper!") has been on the blocks since, oh, January, when I bought a heart rate monitor and tiny ipod thing that I can go running with. However, WTW! has now begun in earnest due to 1) a call from my gym to check I was ok as it was so long since they'd seen me 2) just seeing too many photos that didn't show a version of me that I'm happy with and 3) 3 long glorious months that I'll be on sabbatical and so therefore able to spend the time exercising (amongst of course other things - watch this space..)
And so today, I was out on the water, paddling in the glorious post typhoon swells, for an hour wearing my heart rate monitor. I know we have to start somewhere, and I was pleased to see that by the end of the session I'd burned off a mighty 701 calories. The more depressing figure was the "time in zone" stat - i.e. when your heart rate is raised but not pounding, and when you're really improving your fitness.
Of the 1.06.09 duration I was in my optimal training zone for...................2 minutes 32 seconds. Hurrah!
Friday, August 22, 2008
You are the wind beneath my wings....
There is a Typhoon 9 signal currently up in Hong Kong, and we sit in the eye of Tropical Storm Nuri. Typhoon 8 is enough to shut every thing down. Typhoon 9 - well, reminds me of that bit in This is Spinal Tap where the bassist (Nigel, perhaps?) is trying to explain why his amp goes up to 11....
Anyway, as someone who used to find big weather really, really scary (tears at too much rain for example) the thought of a T9 was a bit, well, awe inspiring. However, as this photo from the west wing of Poobah Chalet shows, the reality (so far at least) just isn't all that
Mind you, it's suddenly gone awful dark outside (and not just because it's night time, I'm at least wise to that one...) so maybe we're in for some big, big weather after all (watch this space!)
Monday, August 18, 2008
We're wide awake! It's good to know we're ready and we're wide awake!!
GP is just back from yet another trip to the UK - somehow in my efforts to green my lifestyle I'm managing to gain a carbon footprint par excellence (that's French, you know) whilst in between times staying in luxury, and therefore almost by definition wasteful, accommodation en route (oops! there I go again....)
The reason for going back this time was, primarily, to attend a friend's wedding, although I was lucky enough to be able to legitimately tack on a week in the London mother ship, so that I could a) see close friends, b) make sure my face is still known to the powers that be and c) avoid having to take the flight back quite so soon.
The wedding was a poignant one. The groom is a very close personal friend of mine. Almost 20 years ago (!) we dated, and memories of those 6 months are very, very fond for me. He was the first person I really went out with, and we had a wonderful time. We were together during and just after our A level results, splitting up because sensibly we realized that we were far too young to be making any sort of commitment to each other. On the day we parted, I cried my heart out. It was even worse when I got back after my first, unhappy term at university to find that he'd already happily shacked up with someone else.
Fortunately I don't carry a torch for him, lest the weekend could have been frankly unbearable. Any romantic interest between us has gone long since, to be replaced by a deep and abiding friendship. He and his family are close to me, and I feel truly blessed that they are part of my life. However I do miss the companionship and intimacy that were core parts of our relationship - even though it was only 6 months, and it was a long, long time ago, those are the aspects that I miss most and which are conspicuously lacking in the various romantic entanglements that GP finds herself in at present. Of which more, no doubt, in another post.....
Still, the reason for these musings right now (1.16 am) is that the dreaded jet lag is doing its worst and I am perky as you choose, nowhere even close to wanting to sleep - despite being up all day and not even having an afternoon nap. Any advice on how to remedy this is much appreciated. Especially given the amount of travel I'll be subjecting myself to over the next 3 months.
The reason for going back this time was, primarily, to attend a friend's wedding, although I was lucky enough to be able to legitimately tack on a week in the London mother ship, so that I could a) see close friends, b) make sure my face is still known to the powers that be and c) avoid having to take the flight back quite so soon.
The wedding was a poignant one. The groom is a very close personal friend of mine. Almost 20 years ago (!) we dated, and memories of those 6 months are very, very fond for me. He was the first person I really went out with, and we had a wonderful time. We were together during and just after our A level results, splitting up because sensibly we realized that we were far too young to be making any sort of commitment to each other. On the day we parted, I cried my heart out. It was even worse when I got back after my first, unhappy term at university to find that he'd already happily shacked up with someone else.
Fortunately I don't carry a torch for him, lest the weekend could have been frankly unbearable. Any romantic interest between us has gone long since, to be replaced by a deep and abiding friendship. He and his family are close to me, and I feel truly blessed that they are part of my life. However I do miss the companionship and intimacy that were core parts of our relationship - even though it was only 6 months, and it was a long, long time ago, those are the aspects that I miss most and which are conspicuously lacking in the various romantic entanglements that GP finds herself in at present. Of which more, no doubt, in another post.....
Still, the reason for these musings right now (1.16 am) is that the dreaded jet lag is doing its worst and I am perky as you choose, nowhere even close to wanting to sleep - despite being up all day and not even having an afternoon nap. Any advice on how to remedy this is much appreciated. Especially given the amount of travel I'll be subjecting myself to over the next 3 months.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Born in the USA.....
Yesterday I had dinner with a very good friend of mine who has just had her first child.
She is Norwegian. Her partner is American. They are not married. The baby was born in London.
We got onto the subject of nationality. Currently the baby is stateless whilst the parents "discuss" various options. This whole process was fascinating to me - one thing I've recognised since being out of the UK is how very British I feel, and particularly the values I associate with Britishness.
British nationality is not a given, as neither parent is themselves British. They have to prove that they have "settled" in the UK for them to be able to apply for British citizenship for her. Should be no problem, and then she would have a very acceptable passport that would give her easy access globally (importantly particularly to former British colonies).
She could be Norwegian. This would give her a very valuable passport, easy travel to most states globally and no outstanding vendettas with other nations to worry about.
Finally, last but not least, she could apply to be American. Only the father thought this was a good option. He has a visceral desire for his daughter to be an American citizen. He tried to argue this from a logical perspective (she will never need to apply for a green card, visa application costs for US citizens are lower than for many other countries) but unfortunately for him any logical, positive reasons are more than outweighed by the fact that, if the poor girl becomes an American citizen she will then be liable to pay US tax wherever she works in the globe unless she buys herself out of this automatic penalty to the tune of US$500K.
OUCH! Imagine dealing with a stroppy teenage daughter when she realises the very special coming of age present that daddy has encumbered her with.
Needless to say the argument remains unresolved (straight into the Too Hard Box) and so poor baby Ingrid remains stateless for another day.....
She is Norwegian. Her partner is American. They are not married. The baby was born in London.
We got onto the subject of nationality. Currently the baby is stateless whilst the parents "discuss" various options. This whole process was fascinating to me - one thing I've recognised since being out of the UK is how very British I feel, and particularly the values I associate with Britishness.
British nationality is not a given, as neither parent is themselves British. They have to prove that they have "settled" in the UK for them to be able to apply for British citizenship for her. Should be no problem, and then she would have a very acceptable passport that would give her easy access globally (importantly particularly to former British colonies).
She could be Norwegian. This would give her a very valuable passport, easy travel to most states globally and no outstanding vendettas with other nations to worry about.
Finally, last but not least, she could apply to be American. Only the father thought this was a good option. He has a visceral desire for his daughter to be an American citizen. He tried to argue this from a logical perspective (she will never need to apply for a green card, visa application costs for US citizens are lower than for many other countries) but unfortunately for him any logical, positive reasons are more than outweighed by the fact that, if the poor girl becomes an American citizen she will then be liable to pay US tax wherever she works in the globe unless she buys herself out of this automatic penalty to the tune of US$500K.
OUCH! Imagine dealing with a stroppy teenage daughter when she realises the very special coming of age present that daddy has encumbered her with.
Needless to say the argument remains unresolved (straight into the Too Hard Box) and so poor baby Ingrid remains stateless for another day.....
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
It's just a jump to the left.....
Whilst we're admiring totalitarian regimes with a penchant for collective activity, seems timely to pay homage to that which all should aspire to - I give you the 60th birthday celebrations of North Korea.....
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Who do you think you are?
I love gambling. Not sure where this one comes from, but I've always found the element of chance and the opportunity to derive great fortune utterly alluring. On the few occasions when I played the National Lottery at home I also had a completely irrational belief that I would win the thing. Imagine my disappointment...never even a tenner....
My weakness in this area has also led me to casinos (one particularly memorable trip involved an all nighter in a Latvian Mafioso enclave, playing blackjack after the Eurovision song contest). I think however, that a couple of recent trips to the horror that is Macau have now cured me of my habit. Still have a fondness for the gee gees however, although my tactic of picking the "pretty one" rarely pays off.
I now like the idea of placing bespoke bets, the type where you wander into a bookies and discuss an event. One I've been thinking of placing involves putting money on the current business leader most likely to end in jail. Surely rich pickings to be had here? My favourite, so much so that he's probably an odds on certainty, is Michael Leary, the excorable CEO of Dan Dare RyanAir (the worst airline I have ever flown with - and that's a list that includes AeroFlot when Russia was still communist, Sierra National Airways, Merpati - informal slogan, "we're Merpati and we fly if we want to" etc etc etc). And this article gives you some flavour of why his days of freedom are numbered.
My weakness in this area has also led me to casinos (one particularly memorable trip involved an all nighter in a Latvian Mafioso enclave, playing blackjack after the Eurovision song contest). I think however, that a couple of recent trips to the horror that is Macau have now cured me of my habit. Still have a fondness for the gee gees however, although my tactic of picking the "pretty one" rarely pays off.
I now like the idea of placing bespoke bets, the type where you wander into a bookies and discuss an event. One I've been thinking of placing involves putting money on the current business leader most likely to end in jail. Surely rich pickings to be had here? My favourite, so much so that he's probably an odds on certainty, is Michael Leary, the excorable CEO of Dan Dare RyanAir (the worst airline I have ever flown with - and that's a list that includes AeroFlot when Russia was still communist, Sierra National Airways, Merpati - informal slogan, "we're Merpati and we fly if we want to" etc etc etc). And this article gives you some flavour of why his days of freedom are numbered.
Five gold rings!!!!!
Oh blimey there's only three days to go to the Olympics and for the first time ever I'll be living in the same country that they're taking place in and how exciting is that!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, naturally, a lot of attention has been focused on what this means for China, and how they will handle the scrutiny that will come with having the Olympic circus turn up to town and rampage through Beijing. I, for one, hope that it goes well for them. The arguments about whether or not the games should be politicised are completely fatuous (the games always have been, surely?) but the sight of the Western press pack circling round clearly hoping for some juicy scandal to blast over their front page puts my teeth on edge. Leave the Chinese alone for God's sake!!! Let them have their coming out party in style, and don't give ammo to those who would want them to clamp down yet further in terms of freedom of speech and openness by going for the cheap shot of a lurid headline. Tomorrow's chip wrapper after all.......
Anyway, amongst all the hullabaloo, I'd almost forgotten that I should be whipping myself up into a nationalistic fervour about the UK's medal prospects. They are slim, granted, and not in exactly mainstream sports, but I think I may have found my top tottie for the games to concentrate my attention on for the next couple of weeks.
Now, naturally, a lot of attention has been focused on what this means for China, and how they will handle the scrutiny that will come with having the Olympic circus turn up to town and rampage through Beijing. I, for one, hope that it goes well for them. The arguments about whether or not the games should be politicised are completely fatuous (the games always have been, surely?) but the sight of the Western press pack circling round clearly hoping for some juicy scandal to blast over their front page puts my teeth on edge. Leave the Chinese alone for God's sake!!! Let them have their coming out party in style, and don't give ammo to those who would want them to clamp down yet further in terms of freedom of speech and openness by going for the cheap shot of a lurid headline. Tomorrow's chip wrapper after all.......
Anyway, amongst all the hullabaloo, I'd almost forgotten that I should be whipping myself up into a nationalistic fervour about the UK's medal prospects. They are slim, granted, and not in exactly mainstream sports, but I think I may have found my top tottie for the games to concentrate my attention on for the next couple of weeks.
Friday, August 1, 2008
All day, and all of the night.....
OK, I admit, the unrelenting sun, sheer efficiency and super smooth service were beginning to work their hallucinogenic magic on me, were it not for one thing.....
Singapore celebrates its 43rd birthday on August 9th. Happy Birthday etc. One of the highlights of this is the National Day Parade, preparations for which are running non-stop outside my (luxury) bedroom window.
The parade itself is being celebrated on the largest steel floating platform anywhere, ever (or something) which I've read somewhere is capable of supporting the weight of 4 tanks (not to forget now, that Singapore still has National Service, and presumably, a well appointed army and navy with all the latest gadgets). The light show, music and choreographed water display look great, and obviously I took a particular interest in the men marching round in uniform/riding motorbikes and so on that were practising on Wednesday.
No, the bit that's getting my hackles up, and reminding me of dim distant Orwellian novels, is the singing. Right now, as I type, it's a poppy song with the key lyric "One nation, Singapore!!!" and yesterday I grinned and bore what I think might be the national pledge- truly ominous... In preparation, you can learn the lyrics to this year's songs here
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
