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.

For quite a while, music has been relegated to well, just a  background noise for me.

I got bored listening to the CDs I had so I stopped. I would mildly bob to whatever I might recognise on the radio, and mildly tolerate D’s retro/college rock band car mix.

Then I borrowed this movie from my school library. Admittedly, I had attempted to watch this on the plane earlier this year with a tiny Quantas screen and ear phones that only worked on the right side. I gave up because the characters looked too small and the first few lines in a thick Irish accent were incomprehensible to me. But I liked what I heard from the “Falling Slowly” youtube video and decided to give it a second chance (with subtitles this time). I was glad for suddenly, I remembered the magic of music. (And note, I am not exactly an Indie music person, but the passion and heart in the music for this film  was just mesmerising.)

My very generous blogger (and now real-life) friend AL had introduced me to The Frames (amongst many other good bands) a few years ago through her “AL’s Musings” CD and I particularly liked Glen Hansard’s live performance of “Heyday” where he yells out “Good night Melbourne!” with some kind of rock and roll drawl. Well, it’s about time I discover more of their music!

I also just picked up a Shanghai Jazz CD from That CD Shop (one of their fascinating in-house High Society compilations) and am listening to it every night accompanied by a cuppa tea. I love it. As some of you may know, I have always liked lao lao old big band jazz but have already listened to whatever there is already. The contemporary cover versions by sweet young things sound vapid to me. But this album, where jazzy ditties are sung in this Chinese triad 1920s speakeasy way is absolutely fascinating. I am so glad to have stumbled upon a soulful reinterpretation of my favourite genre of music.

And it’s amazing how all this music just lifts your spirits. I’d almost forgotten about that.

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.

You're a winner!

Yay, my childhood friend Lauren has clinched a update: two bronzes in the Paralympics!

She is such an amazing person and you know, I can’t help but get peeved that there wasn’t much media coverage given on her before she clinched the medal (she was winning so many other medals for Singapore before this one!) . I tried by contributing an article on her in Vanilla Magazine (if you’d like to read it, just drop me a note and I’ll be happy to send you the scanned article), but it really didn’t help with the whole funding issue because there are “limited funds” for atheletes with disabilities (grrrrrrrr….).

And this is why I really couldn’t get all excited and nationalistic when there was the whole big hoo-ha with the Olympic Silver. Especially knowing there are such double standards in the way sports funding and recognition takes place here.

But hey, this is not a grousing session, but a celebratory post for a beautiful friend both inside and out with a spirit of steel. For her next event, she is performing to music (depsite being profoundly deaf). Please say a prayer and root for her! (Update: She came in third!)

During Shar’s ROM a few months ago, Dawn told me about how she wrote a song after hearing our church wedding message given by Pastor Wendy.

I think there’s something very nurturing about Pastor Wendy’s ministry. She may not give the most theologically verbose sermons on earth, or organise things nicely in PowerPoint form, but she never fails to touch people with her heartfelt, Godfelt thoughts.I have seen (and experienced) her pray for people and they (usually females) cry even if she says the simplest of words.

And in this case, God used her to touch the musically-talented Dawn to write and sing a very special, comforting song. What a beautiful ripple of blessings this has been.

I Belong
V1
I’m just a sentimental freak
Standing at the crossroad of hello and goodbye
The further I walk the deeper I’m lost
Where do I begin
Where do I begin

V2
Give me a home where I belong
Somewhere this wild heart can stop running and breath
I need a place to end this insanity
Bring me back again
To where you begin

Chorus
Cos I belong, I belong to you
I belong, I belong to you
You’ve given me the sweetest hope that I could hold on to
You’ve given me eternity in my heart
In my heart

V3
I’ve found a place to lay my head
A sweet salvation for this darkest hour
I would have lost heart unless I’d believed
In your loving goodness
In this broken world

Bridge
I had to throw my faith in something I could not see
When I believed in what seemed like emptiness
You gave me security

You can view a video of Dawn performing this song here.

When two funny friends (and incidentally, both did our wedding photography) are featured in a movie (made by other other funny friends) as a lao beng (old gangster) and mental patient respectively, you know an objective review is not coming your way. But really, it’s such a fun film to watch, I now wish I had an Ah Beng boyfriend in secondary school (now if only I wasn’t so scared of boys then).

Besides taking fantastic wedding pictures, Anthony Levi Kho  displays a remarkable affinity to acting, dancing and even choreography. Sibeh got talent one lor. And with some really slick production and genuine Bengs whom I actually heard audition (i.e. cursing a lot in Hokkien) two years ago in D’s old office, it makes a really sweet gangster movie (and I never knew I could call a gangster movie sweet).

I  will leave you with the handphone teaser which I think best captures the essence of the film.

Some interesting things after listening to Nury Vittachi at the Asian Congress of Storytellers today.

- Two of the most prominent and influential figures in history were Confucius and Jesus. They were also storytellers, who imparted life’s lessons through the parable form.

- Why do most folktales always have the heroes’ parents die early on in the story? Because most of the time, the story is trying to tell us this:  There will be a day when you will be alone, but you will be fine.

For some strange reason, these are two things I really needed to hear. That Jesus saw the value in stories. That problems seem to get lonelier as one grows older, but I have been taught all this while by loved ones - things will be fine.

We would have made a mighty fine couple in the 1950s I must say.

Get your retro yearbook pictures here

Many thanks to Abi for the intro (though we have an even better surprise for you!)

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.

It rained the whole time we were in Bintan this weekend. I think under normal circumstances, I would have been annoyed, because this is about the only time I get to try to get the pasty white skin a little rosier/tanner. But this time round, I was just so grateful to be given the chance to do nothing so I just read Gaiman/Murakami books to whisk myself into another world, had buffet breakfasts, drank a lot of spa drinks (lemongrass-ginger rocks) and walked along the beach under the drizzle.

Since we are on rain-related topics, I also managed to squeeze out a short essay just before the trip for a little anthology in tribute to my favourite musical, my wonderful childhood and good ol’ rain.

Singin’ in the Rain: What a Glorious Feelin’

My father, shower singer extraordinaire, strongly believed that watching American musicals was the best way to keep a pesky five-year-old from bugging him too much. At the same time, this also gave him a chance to refresh his line-up of warbly Bathtime Broadway renditions.

As such, my first memory of television is not Big Bird or Kermit the Frog. It is of a smiley Gene Kelly doing delightful tippity-tappity things in his signature song-and-dance performance of Singin’ in the Rain. One reason why this particular vignette sticks to me even up till today is because of how my father’s face just lit up when this scene came on. I remember him gustily singing along and bobbing about in the most Genekellyesque way possible from the sofa. The only other time I saw such a high-spirited expression on his face was on a family holiday to Club Med, where he was picked as one of the tuxedo-clad performers for a “Hello Dolly” guest number. There was never a happier middle-aged Singaporean man doing high kicks with a top hat.

With such a media diet from a young age, I soon discovered a dreamy escape outlet in the world of American musicals. Characters come to terms with their feelings by singing and dancing, it’s perfectly okay to rhyme, and the story is never complicated enough to be depressing. Sure, there are times when you have to fall in love, but with some breezy wind, strains of the violin and a couple of twirls, the deal will be sealed. You will live happily ever after.

Singin’ in the Rain, the well-loved MGM musical released in 1952 starring Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’ Connor, epitomizes the magic of the musical for me. With plenty of tap dancing (which makes me peppy), classic love songs (which makes me soppy) and over-the-top humour that only 1950s type of dramatic Hollywood acting can convey (which makes me giggly), this film is just one great endorphin boost. Unfortunately, very few movies fail to do that for me these days. Of course, there’s also Gene Kelly, whom I have had one massive, eternal crush on since his hallmark performance in that rain. While I know nothing about dancing, when I look at him on screen, I know that if I ever had to be made to dance, it would have to be with someone like him. Actors like him don’t seem to exist anymore - men who can prance around in umbrellas, sing cheesy lyrics about being “fit as a fiddle and ready for love” and still exude this charming manliness at the same time.

Here are some things I did after watching Singin’ in the Rain that fateful day: I watched it again and again over the next few months. I threw a tantrum and demanded my father sign me up for tap dancing lessons (he didn’t). I pretended to know how to tap dance, which involved a lot of thumping around the house with my mother’s stilettos. I pretended to know how to sing, which meant there was another tuneless shower singer in the family. I kept running out to the garden every time it rained, spinning myself around and around in the tropical shower, making it a point to splash every puddle in sight. My mother was convinced I would contract pneumonia, and deliberately got me a frilly pink umbrella to use during these rainy sessions, beseeching me to be more like Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady (after the makeover and grooming sessions).

Besides the half-baked imitations, I also created fantasy “filmlets” during my Singin’ in the Rain phase. I would pretend that I was Kathy (Debbie Reynolds’s character) and instead of girlfriend, I was actually the younger sister of Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly’s character). Cosmo/Donald O’ Connor was my best friend and we’d sing the Good Morning song to each other before breakfast every day. The evil actress Lina Lamont was really that mean bully in my class who liked to pinch me. As much as possible, the three of us (i.e. Don, Cosmo and I) would have nothing to do with such a bad, bad girl. In fact, at some point, Don would do some half tap dance, half karate manoeuvre to give a nice purple bruise on her face.

Even as I grew older and toned down in my world of musical make-believe, the world of Singin’ in the Rain remained an intrinsic part of my life. When I was 12, I was made to take part in a school marching drill competition. I was hopeless in understanding Malay drill commands and dreaded going out in the hot sun just to walk around like a robot. However, that all changed one day when the drill leader commanded us to collect our marching shoes, and lo and behold, each of us were bestowed a pair of shiny, black shoes that made the exact same tippity-tappity sounds that Gene Kelly made when he danced in Singin’ in the Rain! I was over the moon, and once again terrorised my home with fake-dance tappy thumpings. And of course, marching didn’t seem so torturous anymore with the comforting tippity-taps coming from my shoes as I did the kiri-kenan-kiris.

When I watched the Singin’ in the Rain musical at the Esplanade Theatre in 2002, I finally realised why its movie version from the ‘50s has meant so much to me all these years. It’s about the values that underlie the act of singing in the rain. When it rains, people usually utter expletives, flee for shade, or walk gingerly around with their umbrellas. But then, there’s Gene, who just surrenders himself to the rain, and sings an infectiously chirpy ditty while at that. There’s just so something uplifting and liberating about this approach to life. This is why whenever I am feeling a little blue or tired, I just have to pop the DVD of my favourite musical into the player, and suddenly, “I’m laughing at the clouds/ so dark up above/ the sun’s in my heart/ and I’m ready for love.”