Bread and butter October 10, 2008

Oh my, what a lot has happened since I last blogged.

The world’s economy is in turmoil, and my financial advisor came bearing grim news regarding a certain hefty “low-risk” investment I had made a few years ago. And also the usual stuff about how I am so far off from my retirement target blah blah blah.

I am not good with numbers. But when she crunched those numbers, I felt my heart sink.

And then I started to get all bread and buttery about things.

Especially since the day my mum chooses to downgrade her hospital plan (to save on premiums), she almost coincidentally gets warded (but she’s ok now) and I felt awful seeing her not cope well in a 6-bedder ward. She’s a tai-tai. She needs her air-conditioning, individual toilet and utter silence (light sleeper). I want to be able to help chip in for that.

I generally don’t like shopping that much but I also realise that I don’t track my finances carefully enough. So now I will. And I will not waste good money on frivolous things anymore. For example, getting eyelash extensions (because I don’t know how to put on mascara) and having most of the lashes fall out by the end of the week.

Singapura September 20, 2008

While at a Tall Hotel, I saw a scene which reminded me of the song:

Singapura, O Singapura
Sunny island set in the sea
Singapura, O Singapura
Pretty flowers bloom for you and me

Still set in the sea but the sea was so packed with ships and cranes (on reclaimed land that was once sea).

Pretty flowers still there, though most appear due to urban-planned artificial propagation.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the balcony, people below are getting busy for a noisy zoom zoom race. Yet another thing to dispel this dreamy notion of that Singapura song I used to sing (with belief) as a child.

Old pictures August 28, 2008

This is what I found in my old memory card:

Anyone has any idea where to buy such grilles?

Just before I left my 15 year old room last year.

People discard things easily.

Regrowth August 17, 2008

Will grow back

After taking a look at some rather tired, bloated, sullen shots taken recently, I realise, it’s not just the vanity crying out in horror. It’s the cry that something needs to be done with the whole attitude of everything. 

There are circumstances that I can never change. But there are always choices to be made. 

There are certain things that will change you and your thinking for life. But that doesn’t mean things can’t be changed drastically again. For the better. 

Don’t drag others down with you. 

Don’t let others drag you down. 

Appreciate the blessings. 

Appreciate the differences. 

Find out who I am again.

As the truck hits August 13, 2008

Once my body registered that it was finally time for a little rest, it slowly unravelled and today, I woke up with a burning head and a headache that made me feel like I had a really thick tongue (no other way to describe it). With some Panadol Extras, I tried to settle some important matters, settled them, and proceeded to crash after lunch.

I wake up now still feeling rather not quite there, but realised that even though I have been feeling underwater the weather, I have made so many more observations about people these past few days:

- a lady cycling around my estate with bright blue gloves, a purple head scarve and bright red lipstick

- a bus driver with a radio-friendly voice and unusually impeccable manners. He greets each entering passenger in three different languages. Some of the (possibly) Bangaldeshi workers in yellow boots looked a little taken aback, but then waved happily after being acknowledged so nicely while the locals mostly ignored him because they haven’t been equipped to deal with such situations before.

- a cab driver, a former Nantah graduate who in a short span of 5 minutes expressed profound regret for his life choices. “I should have learnt English, those who did in my kampong started driving cars. Instead I went to a place where I was brainwashed and instead of telling you to learn, they told you to hold demonstrations.” He also expressed sympathy for my generation because even though we learn English now, it does not mean we will drive cars.

- a lady who got caught in the rain very cleverly took out her thongs so she could move around much faster on the wet, soggy ground barefoot.

- capisicums, just before they get burnt, produce this transparent skin covering

Row row row your boat August 9, 2008

The dream of my life

Is to lie down by a slow river

And stare at the light in the trees -

To learn something by being nothing

A little while but the rich

Lens of attention.

Mary Oliver

Material acquisition #2: Disposable Lomo Camera July 31, 2008

I was at Objectifs the other day for Chin Hon’s book launch and saw the Lomo cameras on sale there. How cute. I got the cheap yellow disposable one. It was nice to use film after a long long time, which to me just means I have no idea what kind of pictures I am taking.

In the end, I ended up taking lots of pictures of my nostrils. Tip: those fancy colour effects only show up when you take something close-up (like nose holes) in a dark dark place.

Small Spaces July 21, 2008

In order to prevent being stir-crazy in this tiny island, one has to move constantly within its small spaces. There are numerous widely-contrasting (albeit tiny) places that thankfully give one a sense of well, space. Having been a little tired of the space I was kicking my feet around in of late, I made my bi-annual pilgrammage to Pulau Ubin and found some refuge in Chek Jawa, possibly the tiniest mupltiple-eco system I have ever seen.

Pulau Ubin is a lot more crowded now and the jetty feels more like a cycling festival rather than an abandoned village (which is what I originally liked about it). But it still has that nostalgic 1980s aura, where it is ok to have dirty food and mud in your shoes, and catching the biggest fish means that your weekend is made.

Material acquisition #1: Phobia-Overcoming Car July 19, 2008

At some point, I will have have to talk about Recent Possessions Acquired. People like to talk about New Toys, or New Food at New Restaurants or New Clothes - I guess, with nothing much more to life than work and spending the money made from work, Buying New Things becomes a Big Deal.

About a month back, we got a Suzuki Swift Sport (which I think qualifies in the New Toy department) in a darker shade of blue and I suspect, an earlier model too (all small cars look alike to me). We call her Patsy (since the van is called Patrick). I scratched Patsy within the first week of trying to get acquainted with driving again. I have forgotten how to park and I don’t think I have any natural aptitude in that area too. But once I get that down right, I will attempt to be Independent Cruiser.

Patsy is supposed to help me get over this fear I’ve had of driving since that time way back in 1999 when I first drove out of Ubi Driving School and met LORRIES, and TRUCKS and BOORISH CABS that were generally rude and territorial. Coupled with seedy, creaky moustached 50-something driving instructors with permed hair, I generally HATED driving. I kind of gave up, until I took it up again in Melbourne which was absolutely a breeze with empty, wide suburb roads and basically an infinite amount of space and time given to park, since well, no one was around.

I am ok with: relatively empty highways, country roads and totally empty carparks

I am not ok with: practically anywhere else which is meant to be a city where it is crowded with LORRIES, TRUCKS and BOORISH CABS and SNEAKY MOTORBIKES and CROWDED CARPARKS.

But this is where Patsy comes in - she is small to make parking a little easier but not small enough to be bullied (apparently ). She is Auto which means Any Idiot (including me, apparently) Can Drive This.

At this point come the lame excuses why I have so many issues about driving. Firstly, I got into two pretty bad car accidents when I was younger (a fractured collarbone and a badly-sprained wrist respectively), both time sitting in friends’ mums’ cars. My psycho motor skills are genetically predisposed to be lacking and I have difficulties telling left from right and what the concept of straight is. My sister cannot park like me too and my mum has never parked straight in her life and has also knocked an old man down before (but he just got a bruise fortunately). So really I am a psychologically-damaged dyslexic when it comes to driving.

However, I will never forget a Portuguese bongo player I met who “read my stars” using a sophisticated astrology programme from his laptop and duly informed me that I would be ABSOLUTELY MISERABLE if I do not have a car to “explore the ends of the world”.

So Patsy (and reluctant, blood-pressure-ever-rising Instructor D.), do bear with me.

Chicken Rice Memories July 6, 2008

Image courtesy of Singapore Food Festival

While attending the opening ceremony of the Singapore Food Festival, I met an old friend whose friends were a bunch of food bloggers who were just so hardworking about reviewing the dishes and making sure all their pictures turned out pretty. I guess I should do a little local promotion here too. This year’s festival focus is on “Top Ten Must-Try Local Dishes” - all in the good cause of promoting heritage and tourism. (I am bugged by “Must-Try”, just like how I am bugged by “Can-Do” and “Win-Win”) Here’s a recollection of my favourite dish of the lot: Chicken Rice, brought to you by those lovely culinary-inclined migrants from Hainan Island.

Brown paper, styrofoam boxes, white spoon, little chilli sauce packets ready to burst, sticky black sauce drizzled chocolate fudge style. Campfires, cheap dates, sweaty suppers after Zouk, lazy Sunday afternoons, every Thursday dinner at home, first meal to eat after returning from random ang moh country, last resort dinner after late work night. One good stall near gong-gong’s house, high class one at Chatter Box, homemade in Melbourne with rusty rice cooker and magic Prima Deli paste. Ju only eats the skin, sis only eats the rice, D. needs roasted pork, mum likes extra organs, dad asks for an egg. My default order: shao ji xiong fan da bao. Resentful when there’s baby kai lan added. Bonus points for soup that does not taste like dishwater with MSG. First dish to discover cucumbers aren’t bad, especially dunked in chicken fat oil. First dish to think of when homesick. Last dish to think of because of “evil-hormones-that-make-9yearolds-grow-breasts”. Still love you even if there’s less of you these days in my life.