Can the new ever be as good as the old?

Recently, I bought a new violin. It's also made in that "factory-of-the-world" country, alas. A friend's husband who's much more knowledgable about music was like "No no! Not a China violin!" But with budget constraints, I shall defer that European violin for later in my musical career!


The old one was too big for me. The new violin is niftier as it's smaller, 7/8 of the usual full-sized violin. Compared to my first violin, the sound is definitely more crisp and robust. Listening to the difference between the 2 is like mono vs stereo sound. However, that means the the mistakes and the screeches are sharper too. And I didn't count on the fingerboard being so much narrower. My blundering fingers now feel even more awkward as they scramble clumsily across the 4 strings, sometimes pressing on more than 1 accidentally.


Now and then, I still take out my old violin and give it a play. The feeling I get as I set it upon my shoulder can only be described as a very comforting familiarity that makes me want to go "ahhhh...this is more like it!" My fingers feel more confident and at home on that generous fingerboard and its just a very shiok feeling drawing the bow over those well-worn strings that I've bowed over and over for 3 years. I started to wonder whether I had ever really needed to change it, and whether I now have an expensive mistake on my hands. *shudder


The change in violin coincided with my change of job, so I can't help but notice my struggle with both. It's a humbling experience to know nothing and having to keep asking around for help and depending on others. I feel painfully ignorant and stupid sometimes, struggling to keep up. It's such a difference from my previous job, when I know what to do, how to do it and where to get the resources. I crave for that kind of security and confidence. I wish I could feel in control again.


But as with the violin, the old job may be more comfortable but not necessarily the best fit for me. And fond as I am of the old violin, I probably should stop taking it out for awhile because it'll just make me feel more acutely how unfamiliar the new one is and make it harder for me to get used to it. And it'll be the new violin that'll accompany me to the dreaded music exam. Onward and upward for my work and music aspirations!

The food hurdle

In the past, when people ask me what I do for a living, I always have to attach a long explanation to my reply of "research assistant" because I don't research--I meddle in editorial work. At last I've resolved that incongruity by joining a publishing company. Hello, I'm an editor.

The process of moving on to a new workplace has been a long one, somewhat less terrifying, but rather harder than I anticipated. But I can hardly complain because I had plenty of time to mentally prepare myself and say bye-byes. After the numerous farewell lunches and messages and thank-you cards and presents, I felt slightly weary, emotionally.

For people who change jobs on a regular basis, I must seem like a bleeding heart. Well I don't quite understand why it has to be so hard for me too, except that the research centre is just too comfortable, and therefore difficult to leave. The people are exceptionally helpful (and smart), the work was stable, culture was free 'n' easy aussie-style, and food was plentiful. There was just this little problem of my "career" and "professional growth" stagnating.

The new place needs a bit of getting used to. New colleagues are typically overworked Singaporeans--need time to open up. I needed to be reminded of this obvious fact after 3 years of general affability. I have to get used to the unsmiling part too.

I was quite excited about the job scope though: it was exactly what I wanted to learn, although I realise that my work would actually be quite mechanical, seeing a book through all stages of production. I can imagine anyone in India doing the job equally well (i.e., not outsource-proof, but which job is, anyway?)

I was complaining to friends about the lack of culinary choices due to our remote location: most people bring their own food, or they order in, but there're only 2 (unhealthy) choices everyday! After 2 days of sandwiches, I decided to cook some instant noodles and was I grateful for eating something hot at long last, even if it was just a handful of precooked noodles and dried peas swimming in watery, MSG-flavoured soup. I was feeling very sorry for myself, after being so spoilt for choice, with the numerous canteens dotted around the campus.

The next day, I ordered in and it was mixed rice: lots of white rice with a small piece of omelette, some tofu, vegetable, and a thin slice of very tough meat. As I told Hong, it felt like I was eating lao fan (prison rice). Just earlier in the morning, my former colleague was still raving to me about the fantastic food they had at the post-conference appreciation dinner. Oh, the indignity!

I get the feeling that once I get past this hang-up about food, things should start to look up. In the meantime, I'm going to feast this weekend.

Reminiscences

I'm supposed to be churning out a report by next Monday about the journal that I've been managing but it's not any easy report and I don't feel like starting.

Anyway, just came back from a night out with the gals. So fast, but we've known each other for more than 10 years. Over coffee, we were reminiscing about our school days happily, now that we can look back on the horrors and tedium of those days from a safe distance: how teachers used to terrorise us, how we dreaded art and music lessons, snooty classmates, our grades and (non)aspirations, and fights that we had with each other.

It's curious how we became good friends: I think some of the bonding came from simply being close to each other during assembly, or chemistry class etc since they went by alphabetical order in those days and 4 out of 5 of us have a T surname .

It feels nice, and safe to have a bunch of friends who have a shared history. I have periods in my life whereby my memory is quite patchy, sometimes because I didn't want to remember. There're so many things that I forgot, and to hear about them again from friends now and to be jolted and remember all over again, I feel thankful. I feel like my memories would be safe with them. Nothing beats old friends. :)

Return of the baking virtuoso

I've gone back to baking! After halting for about 10 months (due to discouraging results), I decided to bake again after colleagues suggested I do it again before I quit the place. These people must be some sort of masochists but since they asked for it, I, of course, obliged!

I decided to make an orange cake, after my mother found this real simple receipe in the Chinese newspapers. She tried it and it smelled good! So I wanted to have a go at it too, for another colleague's farewell lunch. The cake is made with the all-natural goodness of real orange juice and orange peel. Yummy!

I know it doesn't look very good, with that jagged little hole there (Someone said it looks like a donut), but it tasted OK, really! I kinda like the orangey tang, and my colleagues all said it was quite good. That's the thing with my cakes--they're edible, just that they don't look fantastic, especially since I don't like the idea of smothering them in whipped cream. I shall try lemon next. :)

Another conference that came and went

So the conference that has kept us busy for the past few months has finally ended. We had a similar one 2 years ago, and I blogged about how exciting and exhausting it was. This time round, it was, well... a bit lacklustre.

I was looking forward to it actually, because it is the last major event of the centre that I would be part of and I remember how all of us worked so hard together to make it work for the last one.

The centre was only 2 years old then and it was to be the biggest, most international conference held at the institute for more than 2,000 delegates. I remember on the Friday before the conference, a few of us were still toiling away in the campus at 11pm to make sure everything goes smoothly during the conference. I had emailed the dean to ask if we could take the cab home and claim for reimbursement. He replied immediately and gave us his number in case we needed him. Shortly after, he sent out an email as a rallying call to the whole centre to remind us how far we have come as a centre and how he knows everyone is working hard to make that conference a success.

At the end of it, many of us went for the conference dinner at Sentosa where we dined at the beach, open-air style and accompanied by singing and dancing. We sat back and enjoyed ourselves while watching the crazy dean really let loose with his friends on the beach.

The closing ceremony then was rousing, with a touch of triumph, the feeling that we really pulled it off. There were high-fives, hugs on the stage and the deans couldn't stop smiling. This time round, it felt so uneventful. The auditorium was strikingly empty, and the ceremony was short and quiet. At the night safari conference dinner, there was only a handful of us but we were made to feel like second-class guests, because the bossy hospitality committee head (who is not from the centre) ensured that the paying delegates had priority in everything, from seating to food to the tram ride. There was a bit of annoyance and irritation all around, but I was still glad to be there, enjoying the cool night ride on the tram with my colleagues, ooing and ahhing at the lions, tigers, giraffes and elephants. It felt like a school trip with a bunch of excitable primary school kids, which is quite funny because some of them were actually the admin "aunties" (I use that term affectionately) . :)

Maybe because the dean is gone now so things are very different, but the centre is still a good place, with good people. As the dean himself said when he left, the centre has made a difference in many people's lives, including his own.