Eating Together

Nothing better than to sit down to dinner with friends to laughter and good food.

We picked Dulukala Peranakan Restaurant for its homecooked taste. Even though I had to fight heavy traffic to get to the restaurant, the food and the company were totally worth it. It was so much nicer to linger over dinner than to hurry through lunch.

I had my fill of buah keluak. So I was happy. The itek tim was lovely. I had so many bowls of it.

Plus I had a ride home after from a very thoughtful couple! Totally pampered.

A Certain Kind Of Food

[7atenine is now merged with Jazz @ Southbridge and has a whole new Asian menu as of Jan 2010]

The man and I rarely meet for lunch. Our offices are not near each other. Our lunch hour is usually taken up by various meetings. Often, we prefer to work through lunch. So when we needn't work on a weekday, we decided to have lunch at 7atenine.

I think the food is somewhat better at 7atenine during weekday lunches and dinners as opposed to weekends.

It was rather irksome to sit next to a table of whiners. They whined about everything from not having freshly squeezed juice to the puny portions for the supposedly unlimited S$37++.

For the price, of course the juice is going to come out of a carton lah. Goodness. Order that orange juice at dinner and it is beautifully freshly juiced out of a blender. Singaporeans are TOO into the mentality of buffets. I can't gripe about this enough. 7atenine doesn't serve a crass buffet spread. One cannot compare the value of a S$37++ lunch here to the hotel buffets. The lunch unlimited menu is actually a degustation of sorts, a quick summary of what they can do. Importantly, one must be inclined towards this genre of food somewhat. So that if you ever return to pay full price for dinner, the offerings will be extensive on the a la carte menu and a whole lot more remarkable.

While flavorful with champignon, the mushroom risotto had the texture of chok (porridge). Mushy. It isn't what I like from a risotto. They obviously used arborio instead of carnaroli, and cooked it a little too long.

But the truffle-flavored mash was awesome.

Café parfait and chocolate cake were a good way to round up the meal. The man loves a good dessert. I couldn't say no to rich chocolate either.

The man thoroughly enjoys every experience at 7atenine. He loves analyzing what goes into the food. Well, I simply enjoy the bite-sized portions and the complexity of flavors not usually found at other restaurants.

Very Cutsie Dresses

There is something very exciting about clothes for baby girls. There're so many colors and designs to choose from.

I haven't seen Missy Raeann for 2 weeks and she has already outgrown her old striped sling. She now sits pretty in a chic new flowery version.

There is this dress that I really really love from Gingersnaps. It's got pockets!! It is absolutely in my style. I'd so wear this in an adult's size!

I like children's clothes that are not overly kiddish and are just sweet. I really couldn't resist the stuff from the boutique. The clothes are absolutely affordable and don't come with the mind-boggling price tags of designer labels. I'm really not so sure about buying a S$200 dress for a toddler who'd just muck it all up the first time she wears it.

Anyway, I wanted to get this for Missy Raeann. Her mommy frowned at me and I had to fight the mommy before she'd (very grudgingly) let me get this for the little bub.

Well, when I'm in Manila, I'm going to zip into one of the many outlets to check out the full range. HA!

Never Use Brains

I'm highly annoyed by a work associate.

He told me he wanted Item A. I asked him specifically how and what. Satisfied that we were on the same page, I gave him the requested Item A.

Then he came back to say it was actually Item A + 2. Alright. I wasn't in the office. So I had to ask someone else to give him that Item A + 2.

When I combed through the emails today in bed and got to his, I nearly had a fit that would have seen the laptop fly out of the window.

In the end, his design people clarified that it's actually Item C that's needed. Item C is damn far away from Item A lor. It is effectively not the same thing at all. If he could have told me that from the onset, it would have saved 4 working days and 5 needless emails. Not to mention turning 1 strand of (my) hair white.

The good thing is, my team has sorted it out and kinda scolded him. I don't exactly have to say anything. I can just growl at him at home, laugh about it, go out to dinner and forget it. However, I shudder to think how communications work in his office.

Dude, you must be a first class idiot.

About Dementia

It's been a really long time since I paid only S$11 for a ticket to the theatre.

Attending anything held at the Jubilee Hall is really quite nostalgic. I remember going there all the time as a school kid. But of course, as more glamorous theatre venues sprouted, Jubilee Hall has been all but forgotten. A rather apt location somewhat for this particular play.

The Necessary Stage's "Don't Forget To Remember Me" is surprisingly good. It's got a strong cast. Human emotions abound. Very evocative.

A Birthday Pie

There is no birthday cake for the man.

He opted for a banoffi (banoffee) pie. Thanks to the friends in London and those in US who tweaked the recipe and raved about it to the man, he has recently fallen in love with it. He's been checking out the dessert menu at the restaurants. (Marmalade Pantry has a very decent version of the pie.)

The historical pie originated in 1972 at The Hungry Monk. Apparently the pedantic Ian Dowding's recipe is the best.

Don't look at me. I love the dude. But I don't love him enough to try my hand at baking it. This is something that would be best accomplished by his girl pals and the dessert angel.

I can help to eat...!

On The Wii

As very properly advised by M, we went to this little shop at United Square to grab the proper zombie games for the Wii. You get to pick 3 games for S$165.

We don't have any interest in the stock games. We really really want to shoot zombies only. Retro basic games are good.

We bought a couple of shooting games. But the prize is The House of The Dead: Overkill.

I love shooting zombies with shotguns. Not random shots, mind you. Head shots to kill and earn cash to buy better weapons and unlock more song tracks!! Woots. I've found another way to work out the biceps now. HAHAHAH. But the language is horribly vulgar. They have this intense urge to use the F-word at every opportunity. Ugh. Not very clever the script is.

We switched the plasma screen to game mode and spent a good 4 hours burning up the screen. We ignore the xbox at home. We ignore the surround speakers till we want to watch music videos. We've also largely ignored the 60-inch plasma tv. Now, we truly appreciate it.

There is no way that the man will get Guitar Hero on the Wii or any how for that matter. It's like how I have no use for Wii Fit. We rather do the real thing so as not to disrupt my sense of balance and his already nimble fingers. I used to play virtual 8-ball and virtual golf. The virtual games shifted my sense of alignment and threw the acute sharpness I have. For a good week after, I had horrible games on the table and the course. It took me another week to get it all back. I swore never to play these stuff on the virtual front anymore.

So yes, I'll stick to killing zombies. The chance of having to actually shoot a zombie in real life is very very very very very remote.

The Man's 34th

We decided to throw a birthday party for the man and have all the friends come together for a night.

Naturally, the man created a playlist, plugged in the ipod at the bar's stereo system and put it random. It was a night of good whisky, laughter and conversation.

Of course the Bowmore 15 y.o flowed freely. Along with that, we had plates after plates of tasty Tiong Bahru roast meats, wood-fired Pontini pizzas and the bar's very own bulgogi beef on lettuce.

The good people at Quaich bar generously provided truckloads of air-flown live and plump Canadian oysters for us. As if freshly shucked oysters weren't enough, they also prepped oyster shooters with Bowmore 12 y.o as a treat.

The man sorted out the invitations on fb. So yours truly, the fb dinosaur, wasn't privy to the attendance list except for a vague reference to about 25 people. For a while, I was afraid I over-ordered on food and bottles of alcohol. But when the friends streamed in at 9.30pm, it was all sorted. We probably had a good party going of 50 or so in total. Even though the friends ate a fair bit, there was a continuous line of food till midnight!

We're so glad that so many people came. We're happy that they enjoyed the single malts. The best part, the man wasn't drunk. He was completely sober when I whisked him home at 1am.

We love you guys.

Another PRS!

The close friends read the man's mind and got him a beautiful PRS SE Custom Semi-Hollow.

The man had no idea that the friends were springing this on him! Heh.

He's totally in love with his new toy. The grain on the guitar is really unique.

The moment we got home, he rushed into the music room to set up the new toy to check it out. I thought it to have a beautiful tone. But I think he'd need to change the strings to something else. It sounded a little thin.

What can I say? He really loves guitars!

A Dance

When the colleagues enquired about the work trip to Jakarta, I described it as 'okay', 'we met our objectives', 'quite alright' and 'good'. It was a tight trip, but not too taxing.

Then the one who went on the same trip giggled. "OH! You DIDN'T tell anyone about the man who asked you to dance?!"

The couple of them hooted and doubled up in laughter. They shrieked at me for 'omitting' that 'important' detail!

My eyes grew big and I chortled. Obviously the dance (and the man) didn't make too much of an impression on me! I clean forgot about that.

He had terribly strange yellow teeth, a wobbly lead and did a strange 2-step that wasn't a waltz to someone on stage warbling "My Way". Of course I zoned out completely. You can't blame me for deleting that from my overtaxed brains!

On work trips, I always get strange men asking me to dance. (Remember that little club in Hanoi?) They're all bad dancers too. Eiooow.

Oh well. In the name of fun, as long I provided entertainment to the rest of the tables.

Leaving The City In A Jiffy

I'm not at all wistful to leave the city. The work is done and it's time to leave. There is nothing for me here. All my friends who were here have left for less polluted cities. I've never liked this grey and eeky Jakarta. I still don't. I prefer chic Yogyakarta and the quiet beauty of Banten and Bali; the breathtaking Lombok and Manado.

I'd have liked to go shopping for batik though. They've beautiful items. Too bad there isn't enough time for any sort of leisure.

Ah... time. Time is like a bad word in this city. To depart from the hotel at 6.30am for a 10.20am flight (when we've already checked in online) is just ridiculous. Our hotel is only 1 hour away from the airport. We're in a city, not out in the boondocks. I guess that's how bad the traffic jams can be. Thank goodness we managed to get bumped up to a 9.20am flight instead.

And the configuration of toilets at the airport befuddles me. Do you share the sentiment? There are toilets along the road outside of the airline check-in rows. After checking in, there are shops and cafes aplenty, and Starbucks. Heeeee. But there is NOT a single toilet. The only toilets available are at the departure lounge where you just sit and wait for the plane doors to open. Finally we found one spacious dirty toilet (1 cubicle) at the surau and within the depressing nursing room at the corridor of shops. I had to use that.

When I travel, my 2 biggest hang-ups are to have a constant supply of drinking water and the availability of toilets. So if you've got a small bladder like me, at Jakarta international airport, for pete's sake, pee outside before you walk through the customs.

The (New) Butter Factory

Apparently I missed a very glamorous party at the soft launch of Butter Factory at its new home at One Fullerton last night.

I thought, so what?

The club only got their licence at 2pm in the afternoon. Hasty invites were sent out to the usual suspects. Apparently, by 10pm, the club was crowded with the whole world. The grapevine was truly impressive.

The friends' texts screamed, "You missed the hotties! The babes and the dudes! The beautiful people! You missed chilling out with us! Par-taaay! It's like Velvet once more!" They said the new Butter Factory was way bigger and the interiors were posh. But it kept its edge and indie vibe. Very saucy still.

Dammit. That would be something I sorely miss missing. I'm actually excited about checking out the new venue. Awesome. I think we've finally gotten a new club in town to rival Zouk.

Staying Awake

"Why doesn't the fellow who says, "I'm no speechmaker," let it go at that instead of giving a demonstration?"

~Kin Hubbard

Perk-Me-Ups

The hospitality laid out for us has been excellent. I think this is something lacking in our corporate hospitality. We're very utilitarian that way. It's not exactly being thrifty, even. We watch our budgets charily- many bells and whistles are done away with. Protocol is usually pared down to the minimum necessary. But of course protocol is still accorded whenever appropriate. It's the warmth and the geniality that we lack.

Yet I fear that if we overdo the courtesy, we'll be taken advantage of. If we maintain a distance, we'll be accused of arrogance. Same thing: person to person, people to people, firm to firm; nation to nation. Tip-toeing around Protocol is no fun.

In the usual Asian fashion, our hosts make we are well fed and watered.

The kueh is a little heavy on the sugar. Quite a few pots of tea are sweet. The Indonesians must really have a sweet tooth. I like the fruit. But I didn't eat any. Too lazy to peel them lah. :p

Green Chilli Sambal

No, ice, I didn't manage to have sambal lado mudo. :(

I had sambal ijo. Only that I learnt it from the colleague as belado hijau. It was nice with nasi goreng. But I'm not big on rice. Instead, I piled my plate high with kroepoek. I ignored everything else on the dinner table and attacked only the crispy kroepoek dipped in green sambal. I ate so much till it was virtually a meal all by itself.

It was so decadent but absolutely satisfying. There, my type of junk food.

Red Chilli Sambal

You know I don't bother about breakfast unless there are hash browns out there.

And there are hash browns at the average breakfast spread!! Not beautifully deep fried, but hey, it's potatoes.

All hash browns taste awesome with sambal. I don't want the mousey garlic chilli sauce in a bottle. I want homemade sambal. They go great with potatoes.

So for this sambal badjak, I lapped it all up- till I realized I was eating the hash browns just so I could have more sambal.

By small amounts, it wasn't too spicy. But I had so much of it. So I gulped glass after glass of water just to soothe the throat.

Tasty Spicy

They were good cuts of lamb. Cooked rather tough. There was a bowl of sauce at the side that went with it.

I took a large scoop to soak the pieces of lamb in gravy. It tasted fabulous! I don't eat Malay food often enough. So I'm very wowed by the sauce. I studiously ignored all other food items. Lamb in sauce was all I wanted to eat. I tiptoed back to the buffet line for seconds and thirds.

Spicy and sweet, it's a lethal combination of chilli padi, onions, garlic and plenty of tomatoes. I really really liked that sauce. So much till I'm going to attempt to make it myself. The man can sort out the lamb part of it.

It isn't very difficult I think. Except I don't know how to dice the ingredients. I don't even know how to wield the knife properly. WAHAHAAH. That's where I'll ask the maid for help. Hmmm. Like this, I might as well ask her to stir up the sauce and I'll watch. Best.

The Usual Traffic Jams

A full day of rain in this city can only mean terrible congestion on the roads during the evening peak hour. In this city, there is nothing welcoming or romantic about the rain. It is grey and downright depressing.

There is nothing pleasurable about sitting in the 15-seater bus inching along the roads. It's torturous for both driver and passengers. A normal 30-minute ride turned into a 2-hour lower-back-burning bad trip. (pun intended for those who know that feeling). Those fumes were overwhelming and induced a smog to hang low over the city.

The infamous traffic jams in Jakarta haven't changed in 10 years. And definitely worsened in the last 2.5 years. Humans are still packed like sardines in public buses. If that isn't enough, they're hanging perilously out of the doors now.

The city's gearing up for elections. I hope someone cares enough to look into the urban planning of the town centre at the least, instead of just shrugging it off as a way of life. For a people so outspoken, I hope they'll speak out against the threat to their health. I still can't accept that traffic jams in Jakarta have become the way of life and are often excuses for every single issue.

The Talking

We've gone back and forth carefully in a diplomatic ping-pong.

I've learnt much today. It's slightly different from the polished corporate tango my elders exposed me to when I was a young girl. I've sat at tables negotiating prices, contracts, terms and conditions within another industry. I'm very familiar with the intricacies of opening offers, subsequent offers, concessions, resolution and emotional closure. The elders have guided me soundly.

Today's meeting opened my eyes to a distinctive sort of negotiation. The sort of leverage and rapport required at this meeting are key highlights. The manner these 2 points are delivered are the furthest from all that I know. Still, I drew on whatever that has been imbued as young child- the first rule of negotiation- 'Never offer what I'm not prepared to commit.' A mentor once told me- "You're not a shark. Don't bother to feign. Just be a dolphin." I was rather insulted then. I always thought I'd survive the corporate game. I guess he knew better than a conceited 16 yr-old.

So today, quietly I watched and took in the new processes. Impatience has always been my greatest flaw. I'm reminded that I've to stem those rising feelings and retain that air of clarity. This industry and that, I must endeavor to link all I have learnt to gain the most balanced of acumen and not blow the end game.

Very Decent

Our company's on an economy drive. So we picked a local hotel over international chains. 2 of us shared a room for USD 70 nett per night. It works out to about S$50 per pax per night. I was a little worried, going by what I experienced the other time.

To our great relief, it's a rather decent room. Comfortable too. They could clean out the air-conditioning vents/ducts more, but I can't complain too much. The toilet flushes well. The sink and the shower's got really hot water. All good.

Anyway, we are here to attend work meetings, not to have a leisurely vacation.

You Try Eating A Deflated Balloon

Everytime I go through our local news, I never fail to burst a vein in angry reaction to something. At the rate I go on, I will probably need anger management classes very soon.

Like now, I nearly choked and fell out of my chair when I read about some merry people releasing 1000 balloons into the air.

You cannot imagine how loudly I swore. I'm glad I'm also not the only moron getting all flustered about it. I don't care what the hell humans are celebrating- but releasing balloons into the air is a huge no no. And especially NOT over and across the sea. NOT into the sea. There are 50-50 arguments for and against balloons affecting marine life. I stand on the side of 'against balloons'. Latex balloons per se are biodegradeable. But not if it comes with strings attached. (pun fully intended.)

The organizers prove that they don't think of the environment when they hold mega events like that. And I wondered if any couple rejected to let fly their balloon.

In the celebration of a union (non-legal) with my partner, I do not expect it to be just about us. It is also about what we can do for our environment, for our friends, for our world. If the man had no space in his mind and heart for a larger world, then I would have dropped him like a hot potato.

And yes, I wrote a note to Marriage Central to tell them rather politely what I think of their strategic planning skills that obviously did not show much of consideration for the environment. And if they reply at all, I know they'll bring out the 'okay to release balloons' articles and arguments to highlight in an official distant letter.

And so continues the eternal battle about what exactly harms the environment.

No N.E.R.D

I missed both the N.E.R.D gigs during Mosaic in Singapore (because the group switched dates and time and I couldn't make the new slots) and Jakarta (no thanks to human fault). Grrrrrrrrrr.

So I could only watch it on youtube.

It is interesting to note that both N.E.R.D and Of Montreal covered Franz Ferdinand's "Take Me Out". Why ah? Really so nice meh? I suppose it is a dance-y sort of song.

The Wii Zapper

It's really late and maybe a little outdated. But we finally succumbed.

The wii is really quite retro fun lah. I think it's more for the man's dad to play. Heh. The man and I didn't even bother with the xbox at home. It's always the dad who's shooting some random monsters and helicopters a la Battlestar Galatica.

We're trying to figure out our Mii so as to chalk up points for our games. We want those unlimited credits! There are only 2 games we want to play on the wii. Ha!

FaerieFolk, when you're back, we're going to have a zombie party. We shall zap some zombies and monsters to kingdom come. So we're probably going to get the magnum gun just to feel like ass-kicking monster-busters.

Pontini

I'm happy that Pontini brought back its lobster linguine on the a la carte menu.

I haven't hopped into this restaurant for some time except to do pizza take-outs.

This is another convenient dinner location that I don't mind frequenting. It's next to Zouk. :D

A new chef- Frank Kilian presides over the kitchen. He's got this introductory menu that one could try. It's oddly conservative but comforting.

It was just the 2 of us and we weren't in the mood for eating. So it was just the usual quatro formaggi topped with rocket leaves and a USDA prime tenderloin. The pizza was sterling. Although the tenderloin was done medium rare, I did wish that they didn't char it so much on the outside.

No matter how, the portions were enough to fuel us for a really really late night at Zouk. It was amazing how crowded the club was on a Saturday night. I hadn't been there proper for ages. (Hanging out with work associates don't count) It also reminded me that my time at Zouk has definitely passed. I never bother to pay homage on Fridays anymore. I really wouldn't mind if I don't step into the club for the rest of this year. There is nothing substantial in it for me anymore. Maybe occasional events- like Fifi Lapin.

We would have make another dinner date at Pontini to try its lobster linguine just to reassure ourselves that it'd be good still.

Late Dinners

After gigs and concerts at the Esplanade, Inagiku is a convenient and fuss-free restaurant for us to hop into at 10pm. I'll still be served decent food by chefs who know my preferences. i.e. no maguro and no prawns or shrimps.

They would still put a bowl of steaming hot fish soup out for us to round up the sushi dinner.

I also like it because the restaurant still offers a great deal on the Feed card for food.

A Good Morning Stretch

The girlfriend is doing an instructor course in yoga. So she gathered some of the friends to make up a class. She has to lead the class to pass each stage in the course.

I'm not into yoga. Well, in spite of all the gymnastics grounding, I can never do the crane or the headstand. I'm more for pilates. I've tried both years back and have given my heart to pilates. I prefer the technicality of it. I like the machines. But since the girlfriend asked, I thought I'd just hop along to the class to lend her moral support.

I like the outdoor venue. Too many venues are housed in air-conditioning. Eeeek.

She put us through the paces. It was a light one though. So I focused on perfecting the poses, the angles and getting my boobs out of the way. Then I lengthened some of counts for a deeper stretch till I trembled.

Of course I fell asleep at the final corpse. Like a deep snooze till I had to be prodded awake. Heeeeee.

The Sweetness

(Photo courtesy of Elaine.)

(7atenine is now merged with Jazz at Southbridge as of Jan 2010)

Today's appetizers at 7atenine were a little strange. For example, I couldn't appreciate the cream of celery with tomato jelly at all.

The pasta and mains were decent as usual. The desserts were yummy! I love the beetroot.

Over lunch, it was a good laugh at everything. Admittedly, I only just got to know these girls. But they are genuine and it's a refreshing day out from the usual schmoozing events.

It's been a day of food and friends for sure. At brunch, I ran into the entire world Marmalade Pantry. Girlfriends, dudes and cute toddlers and all. I think it's like everyone's favorite brunch place. I like the food there a fair bit. Way better than another cafe upstairs. ;p

Down-Tempo

Tonight, we chilled out to the soundscapes of The Cinematic Orchestra.

I eyed the striking Fender Rhodes. Nick Ramm did it total justice.

Yes, Jason Swinscoe was really deft on the turntable. All those backing vocals were spun through his improvisation. However, I'm a little biased. I think Battles set the yardstick for electronic wizardry.

At the end of it, I thought the show was a little underwhelming. Perhaps I didn't understand nu-jazz. But in the packed concert hall, there were a thousand who obviously did. Every Day is my favorite album. What I heard tonight couldn't recreate the magic I feel for it.

For me, the highlight of the evening was Reverend Grey's acoustic piece. That took away some of the disappointment.

The Front Crawl

I was out of breath after 10 laps of front crawl.

Then when I paused to catch my breath, I scowled at the other swimmer in the pool.

His front crawl was amazingly powerful. He was really fast. Like a shark. He took like 35 seconds to do 50m. His flip turns were so precise that it only took no more than 2 seconds. Even when he slowed by the 8th lap, he was still doing it at 45 seconds per lap. He must have been a competitive swimmer.

I was obviously gawking at him.

I finished up another 10 laps on the frog and left. He was still streaking through the waters.

I'm not sure if he is inspiring or demoralizing. Ha. Meanwhile, I'll just crawl along. Maybe I should just push myself a little more to get the most out of the session. Frogging it for 20 laps doesn't quite build the muscles. I've learnt that the front crawl gives me aching arms and builds pretty muscles. I like.

Eating At Home

After an invigorating swim, we came up to delicious smells streaming out of the kitchen.

It was pasta day at home for dinner! The maid cooked a simple aglio olio with garlic, onions and chilli padi. She did it so well! Everyone was really impressed. The man wasn't in the mood for spice. So he decided to do another version of the aglio olio.

The man casually whipped up this version with brocolli, cherry tomatoes and pine nuts. He did two separate batches. The first batch was great because he tossed it straight into the pan with a huge dollop of oil. For the second batch, I thought it a little dry. Perhaps there was too little oil or because this batch was rinsed in the cold water. Bad move. Because when the angel hair was slid back into the pan with minimal oil, it became a little stiff and wiry. Still appetizing though.

Later in the night, the man dissected his two batches of pasta to compare the differences in taste. I fell asleep half-way through his musings on whether to stir the pasta vigorously in boiling water or rinse it 2 minutes shorter in cold water.

So I say, making good pasta and sauce isn't the easiest thing in the world. Recipes are just recipes. It's always the chef's interpretation and personal touch that define the fine lines between good and out-of-this-world.

The girlfriend and I finished a large portion of it. Oh dear. Usually after our swim, we cut out carbs completely. Too late in the evening to tank up on unnecessary carbs. But when faced with pasta, our resolve wasted away. We definitely plied on all the calories burnt off earlier.

Luckily the maid also cut fresh lettuce, cold tomatoes and eggs at the side for us. Finishing that and a big plate of fruit made us feel more balanced. Heh.

Japanese Tomatoes

I love the cold sweetness of the fruit. It is a really refreshing appetizer to begin a meal with.

I've come to realize that when I dine at Japanese restaurants, I'm not fond of tempura, kushiage, robatayaki. I can do a teeny amount of steamed items. But my preference is rather strictly sashimi and sushi. These are my favorite sort of food ever.

A cold starter, a sushi platter and a hot soup to end off the meal. That to me, is an absolute comfort after a brain-draining work day.

Battles

15 years ago, this band wouldn't even exist. There wouldn't be the technology or audience sophistry to support and appreciate this band. 6 years ago, no one in Singapore would even bother paying S$81 for the stalls to watch them.

As far as original music goes, Battles is as experimental as one can get. Their live voice samples are really cool. They use so much of the delay and looper that I could easily recognize which is what.

The man was most enamored with the band. He thought them most innovative. Lucky him caught them live at SXSW too. He was so so interested in their gear. Like the Echoplex.

Die lah. After all that education by the man, I didn't completely understand the electronic sounds of Battles. I understood the rhythm and the drums. But I didn't take to the melody. Sadly, I only recognize 2 pieces- Tonto and Atlas.

Thank goodness everyone stood up and bobbed to the almost hypnotic beats for that full hour.

Teeming With Life

I wish that it isn't mid-week so soon. It means that Mosaic is coming to an end. I'd love to have our arts scene so vibrant every other month!

Headliner act Brian McKnight was a little too smooth for me. He didn't have that indie edge I was looking out for. Maybe I'm just not into ballads. I nearly fell asleep.

Today, the weather was sizzling hot and wonderful. Blue skies abound. There wasn't even a cloud in sight. It was too hot for alcohol before the sun set. So I had a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice at 7atenine.

In the background, The Sexies were sounding really powerful at the Outdoor Theatre. I've heard Typewriter the other evening. Tonight, along with other ASEAN and Korean bands, Nuance and Couple held court at the Concourse with their easy-listening pieces.

It's a heady feeling to be surrounded by so much music. All the diverse genres are just so striking and stir up different emotions within. The week has been filled with wonderful music at all the spaces at Esplanade.

Arabic Perfume

We were absolutely intrigued by the contents of the many heavy wooden boxes.

The scent was overpowering.

Our client had given us Arabic perfume in the unmistakable smells and pieces of both oud and bukhoor.

It was all so exotic. But none of us really knew what to do with it. Our Arabic colleagues don't use these in their homes either. I have a medhan at home that hasn't been used. I wouldn't mind trying out the oud. But I wasn't too taken with the particular scent.

So the wooden boxes were carted away to storage, till someone knew where to send it to. Or have another appreciate the scents before the oils dry up.

Waste My Money (Not Really Mine Though)

If I pay someone S$1800 to do a 1 hour corporate presentation on a specific topic, I will not dispute his expertise. However, I expect him be a decent presenter and deliver sterling insights.

Instead, they sent me an engineer who couldn't even speak proper English. He talked to the floor the whole time. I had to step in to facilitate the session and cover for his utter lack of situational awareness that his information was too technical and bored everyone to tears. That was completely opposite to my initial instructions. This engineer (true to his job stereotype) couldn't relate his content knowledge back to the topic of discussion at all.

S$1800 leh! You might as well pay me or any other colleague in the office?! We could have done the research and delivered the session way better than this speaker ever could.

My (international) audience said, "He isn't very good. You guys are always efficient, to the point and speak well. Are you sure he's Singaporean?"

I could only cringe.

I silently bit my tongue, "You don't know that our personality types are divided by job categories of lawyers, doctors and engineers. All others are civil servants and teachers. The fun ones are gay."

In The Shape Of Haman's Hat (or Ear)!

My hat it has three corners.
Three corners has my hat.
And had it not three corners,
It wouldn't be my hat.

I'm in love with hamantaschen.

Full of dates, raisins, dried figs and pecan, the filling is just lovely. They tell me Purim has arrived. Prune or poppy seed. New-age style using apricot perhaps. Whatever. I think I'd love prune. It's the sweetness of it that is so memorable.

I can't bake, so I'll just shamelessly holler, Dawnie, make me this one this one this one please! I saw a recipe which seems cool. But I'm sure you can immediately discern the good ones floating out there!

All That Jazz

This weekend has been filled with fantastic jazz. Tonight has been just awesome. There was the Brad Mehldau Trio. Brilliant easy listening hits, the trio were totally fascinating. I almost wished Pat Metheny was present too. He was unforgettable in the 2006 gig.

Then we rushed to the somewhat bizarre but grooving-inducing Of Montreal. The venue was set up to a club atmosphere. Very cool. We wished that more clubs would have this sort of band and music rather than the commercial crap that is so prevalent. Courtesy of Heineken, we had free-flowing beer. Yours truly was dosed full of flu medication. So I stuck to Fiji water.

After a quicker than fast bite at Barossa (the pasta came within 10 minutes of our order), we skipped into the hall with Mike Stern and the Yellowjackets. The boys were naturally excited. Earlier in the week, they had a masterclass with Mike Stern himself. The man even managed a one-on-one session. WOOTS. It was just a little unnerving that the audience only stood up for a standing ovation at the end and sat down when the band came back for the encore. I was soooo disappointed that they didn't stand up for the encore piece. Unlike the indie crowd, this audience was really alot more subdued.

Spanning 2 weekends, we're going to be treated to a feast for the senses. I love it that my evenings are going to be richly filled with music. I'm not going to have much time running to the concert venues from the office. Oh well, the Mosaic music festival is the one thing that can make me happily skip dinner in favor of quick sandwiches.

So Shallow

An acquaintance buzzed me on msn to say hello.

Then she updated me about the status of her love life. She said there was this Indian guy who was interested in her. I think she described him as sensitive and romantic.

Then she said she wasn't sure if she should reciprocate because "I don't know what color my child will turn out to be. :p" She typed out something else along these lines. I forgot exactly what.

I hated that ":p". I did not appreciate the joke.

I'm quite offended. Our best friends are Indian. My good friends married Indians. The babies are beautiful, with clearly defined features that might possibly be cuter than her future single-ethnic-gene babies. I certainly don't appreciate her line. Not even as a joke. I don't have a sense of humor when it comes to racial jokes and stereotypes. Not when you're not even a friend.

I booted her out of my msn list. People with undesirable qualities are not wanted in my circle of acquaintances.

Incidentally, she's the strange one who sent me nail clippers meant for babies.

Just Brainless Food

On a hot humid day, we needed an air-conditioned eatery for lunch at Holland Village. I wasn't feeling too well and didn't really want to talk because I had a bad throat. I wasn't particular about lunch. A tuna sandwich or a really plain pasta would do. We didn't have any cars anyway to take us anywhere else. We stepped into a shall-remain-nameless restaurant because the man wanted to re-capture his childhood. He said that food here used to be good. I sniggered by way of reply.

The man was obviously in a talking sort of mood. When his hotdog arrived, he was so disappointed. He said the hotdog used to be really superb stuff- fat, juicy and a good 2 inches thick. "Now, this one, is a longer version of a bottled hotdog."

I loved it that the kitchen listened to my request of 'less oil' in my aglio olio. Obviously it wouldn't have truffle salt or anything. So I had to sprinkle their strange parmesan and table salt into the dish.

The man proclaimed it bland. Well, obviously it wouldn't taste anything like what he could make at home. That would be one reason why we rarely choose pasta when eating out. Very few places could match up to our expectations of a good pasta. And the simple aglio olio is the most difficult of all. Of course he turned up his nose at my dish. "I think I should just go into the kitchen, use their ingredients and cook you the aglio olio." Through no fault of its own, my poor little plate of pasta got insulted.

Bitchy somebody is today.

The Perfect One

The plan was simple. We'd meet, check out the weather and decide what to do. If there was a torrential downpour, we'd simply hop into somewhere to have dinner.

The girlfriend and I stared really hard at the evening sky. There was not a single dark cloud looming. We honestly had no cravings for any sort of food. There was no excuse not to swim today.

So off we slid into the pool for some serious muscle work.

The water was beautiful. The pool absorbed most of the morning and early afternoon sun and was nicely heated for us by evening.

The water temperature is the most perfect one this year.

You Think?

"How many Commandments can we break in one day?"

~ Carl in Van Helsing (2004)

Kome

You would have known that in its previous incarnation as The PineTree Club (now known as The Pines after the big fight), it had a fantastic Japanese restaurant.

You will remember Chef Lawrence Chia who was there till 1997. He is the same Chef Lawrence previously of Santoro at Amara Hotel.

The re-named Matsugawa at The Pines has so much of Chef Lawrence's legacy in its food. Sadly, Matsugawa has declined considerably from its heyday.

If you miss those times and the familiar taste of good food, Chef Lawrence Chia (do.not.blink.at.the.name) now helms Kome at The Keppel Club.

Welcoming both club members and the public since last July, Kome is a convenient dinner venue. Especially on days when all we want is to just hit a couple of balls at the range to work the swing. I love the feel of the restaurant. Simple, unpretentious and warm. Fresh supplies come in on Tuesdays and Fridays.

Kome, has been thoroughly consistent in presenting me omakase meals. Every visit is an absolute satisfaction. Many have compared it to Tatsuya. (Try not to do that in front of the chefs will ya?) That sushi rice is so so tasty and so so reminiscent of Tatsuya's. However, Kome's prices for omakase are kinder than Tatsuya's. Its price tiers are similar to Tomo.

I'm thirstily eyeing the plum wine that is merrily fermenting in the jars. It will be ready in 4 - 5 months. Arrrgggh. Too long!!!

Tonight, Chef Lawrence poured us generous shots of his Macallan 12 y.o. I know it's not Bowmore. But I'm not going to quibble. I can introduce him to Bowmore another day. We had cold sweet sake earlier with the meal. The Macallan 12 y.o. sherry cask was quite the perfect digestif.

Kome Japanese Dining
No. 10, Bukit Chermin Road
The Keppel Club
Singapore 109918
T: +65 6273 0118 F: +65 6273 0868
Email: komedining [at] yahoo [dot] com
(Reservations preferred. No website. They're on facebook too. Find them.)

He's Back

On an evening when the ground has been cooled by torrential rains and a gentle breeze swirls through the bay, having drinks outdoors at 7atenine is a pleasure.

We are glad to finally catch up with the good friend to find out how he's doing.

He's been so quiet on the social scene. But he assures us that he is okay. I teased him that his pot-belly has disappeared. He said his newfound sport has ensured a tight ass and trim build.

But at times, he seems a little pensive. Going through a messy divorce does that to you.

I'm happy to know that he's gotten over the darker days and has regained his usual witty perspective on many issues. He's retreated into himself for a couple of months. I guess he needs the alone-time. He's a great guy, loyal friend, generous and with a groovy sense of humor. He's been fondly missed by many.

We're glad to have him back into the circle. It started with a USDA prime beef tenderloin dinner at Botak Jones Toa Payoh!

The Devil Is In The Details

People are somehow very fond of inviting me to be an emcee at their weddings. There are many whom I'd gladly do it for. Recently, I'm highly bemused that over a week, I received 3 invitations. I'd love to do it, save for a few niggly points that make me question the sanity of my choice.

The man rarely stops me from posting any writing on this blog. Today he did. He thought that it could be too cutting for the people concerned who might be reading it or hearing it from someone else.

He was worried that my illogical stance against weddings had clouded my judgment. I don't deny that. It could very well be so. I retorted that if they actually read this blog, they would know my (almost) diabolical views towards weddings. When humans turn into bridezilla and groomzilla, it wouldn't seem cutting anyway. It'd seem only logical that the lesser mortals bow down to their specific demands to accommodate their wedding.

I'm still going to say it, albeit an abridged version.

You invited me as an emcee, not as a Christmas tree gone wrong. So you'll have to trust me and let me do my job to make you sparkle.

The Show Sucks

Call it being nosy or whatever. Morbid curiosity. Or just so that I'm in tune with what the aunties in the office are be talking about. I should at least try to remember who's an actor or a so called local tv celebrity right? As much as it churns my stomach, I watch TCS 8 at times.

There is a current tv show titled "煮妇的假期" ("Housewives' Holiday"). I watched a grand total of 3 sporadic episodes, read the synopsis in between. I also learnt how it would end as a happy family. And I wanted to just throw something at the 3 lead characters. This tv programme is my definition of a horror show.

If this is the show to symbolize the traditional Singapore woman, then I'm afraid I want to strangle the 3 leads. The actors are good. So convincing till they're irritating. The script writer has got to be exaggerating. How can there be such petty conversation and concerns within a film???!

I'm sorry, but the topics of interest in the show seemed to be just so self-centred. There is no greater concern for anything else beyond the neighborhood. Surely, our women aren't generally like what the show portrays!

And sadly, such is the life of school-going children in Singapore where the ultimate goal is the number of As on the final year report card.

The worst- the male characters in the show are all wimps. The males are all portrayed to be almost chauvinistic and cavalier beings after marriage.

No wonder the aunties (young and old) in the office insist that men (and the relationship) are different before and after marriage. I do not subscribe to that thought. It isn't so, and it musn't be so.

Maybe the show has its merit. But I'm sure as hell not a fan.

Is it just me?

Cooking The Butterball!

We've roasted a turkey for tonight's dinner.

Between trawling the net and checking emails, I thought I'd give my eyes a break and help out with the turkey.

The man's mom wok-fried the liver and readied the stuffing. The maid scurried about checking on stuff and grabbing the meat thermometer. Basically the both of them had sorted out everything. There was nothing much I could do! (Not that I knew what to do anyway!) Hahah. I was more useful taking photos than actually helping with the prep.

To save my self-esteem, I decided to go double up as a dishwasher. That was actually very productive.

A Rainy Afternoon At Home

Today, I'm all whiny and feeling sorry for my eyes.

This morning, I had the shock of my life when I saw my face in the bathroom mirror. The right eye was swollen shut. ARRRGGGH. Of all days!! I had an important day at work!

I couldn't very well have my colleagues cover for me. It was just a swollen eye, not a broken limb. So out came the cool blue aviator shades and I went into office to sort out stuff. I wanted to stay all day. The right eye seemed to be getting better slowly. Still puffy, but not horrendously so. Still, I had to ask someone else to attend the work lunch for me. I shouldn't go scare people with the eye.

By 1pm, the left eye started to swell. The office air-conditioning and dust irritated it. It didn't hurt. But it was tearing. I had to go home. *shrug* The important stuff was over. I might as well sort out emails and documents from home. I must have looked really strange wearing aviators indoors and in the pouring rain.

I think it was the soup stock. I wasn't too watchful. So I made the mistake of having a teapot soup (with prawns in it!) for dinner on Saturday, mee rebus for Sunday lunch (already asked them to replace prawns with fish cake; forgot their gravy base used prawns.) and a beautiful lobster bisque for dinner. All the stock contained prawns. I think it was too much for my system.

I'm allergic to prawns. So I control my intake to a minimal. Ah well. At least the allergy manifested in the form of puffy skin, not an asthma attack or severe rashes like the last round when I gobbled down many sweet ama ebi sashimi.

The eyes are laden with medicated eyedrops and creams. May the antihistamines do their work in my system. Hopefully, I should look pretty again by tomorrow. :)

The French Kitchen

When ice mentioned The French Kitchen on her blog, I eyed everything hungrily. I wanted to go for dinner. But I didn't get around to doing so till this evening. Best of all, Sundays are BYO. So we took along an easy Klipfel (Alsace) pinot noir for the meal.

The table fell in love with the brown bread served with herb butter and pâté. There was the sweet raisin. Then there were seeds and multi-grain slices. YUMMY. We ate so much bread! By the time appetizers were done, we were quite full.

The lobster bisque was really something. Full flavored and even, the prawns added an interesting touch to it. The quail's breast with apples and hazelnuts was pretty okay. I enjoyed my mixed organic winter vegetables with poached hen’s egg and black truffle essence.

The côte de bœuf was a tad tough and didn't taste like good steaks should. There wasn't even a hint of black truffle. The sauce was not at all memorable. They really should have given us a proper steak knife. I had great difficulty cutting the meat. But yes, the potato boulangère in the mini Staub La Cocotte was soooooooo cute! I liked the rack of lamb. That was rather notable. The winner was the bœuf bourguignon. Steeped in gravy and tenderly braised, it was succulent.

We had desserts to share- the famed moëlleux and a light poire.

I want to return for another meal soon. There are other items on the menu that I'm eyeing before it changes to a new list for spring.

It's a really small area though. Cosy even. Truly The French Kitchen. This is a very dependable kitchen to come to for comfort food. Ask to sit outside in the main dining hall away from the cooking. Otherwise, you'll be bathed in perspiration by the end of the meal.

Stupid Is as Stupid Does

I've never read a more stupid official response in the national newspaper.

How can an official letter contain the word "stupid"?!

The dude doesn't even know the difference between dialects and languages.

Who the hell approved this letter to be sent in to the national newspaper??!!! Did anyone even clear this letter at all? It smacks of arrogance and bigotry. It is horrifying that a public servant might actually think that the letter is a perfectly crafted reply. Then I tell you, MICA has grandly FAILED in educating its officers in the basic tenets of public communication.

My Cantonese (although got accent kind) is a lot better than most people- I learnt that from zealously watching Hong Kong drama serials. It gives me so much goodwill at work and everywhere because I speak the jargon. The lady at the boutique gives me extra discounts off S$300 dresses because I speak to her in nothing else but Cantonese. Like many others, I was taught simplified Chinese. Yet I was inclined towards the traditional script because it seemed....beautiful. I learnt the traditional script from reading Louis Cha's swordfighting novels borrowed from our national library. And you know what- I had to type out an entire proposal at work in the traditional script that I didn't learn in school. I understand Wu Chinese, which granted me an understanding of Shanghainese that doesn't even sound anything like Mandarin. It allows me extra intimacy with my Shanghainese cousins (American-educated) who ironically speak perfect English with a Boston accent.

I understand Teochew and Foochow too. My Hokkien is picked up from the ah lian days. I understand Hokkien perfectly. I just can't reply you intelligbly in said languages. The basic understanding helps me so much in charity work. Not Mandarin. The elderly on my roster speaks at least 4 languages fluently, including what the not-stupid PPS called dialects, as well as Bahasa Melayu. They don't speak English or Mandarin. They never had a chance to learn. Or perhaps there wasn't a need to learn in those times. But they read Chinese. Are they truly stupid?

Oh. I can curse damn well in Hokkien though. But I don't think that constitutes as polite conversation.

We mainly acquired basic language skills through rote learning in school. There was nary a fun element in there. No wonder half of our population speaks CRAP English and CRAP Mandarin. We are bilingual. Just not effectively so. Our grasp of the written language, on average, is mediocre at best. But don't anyone dare presume this is at the expense of other languages. Freaking elitist hive mind.

There are valid points in the letter of the not-stupid PPS. But he has couched it in the worst possible delivery which bellies his dogmatic and parsimonious self.

Oh wait!! Is he speaking on behalf of somebody?

Did You Catch This Play?

We strangely thought we had booked tickets to Sleepless Town. But we didn't. We couldn't make the dates on the complimentary tickets either.

During the course of the week, many of the friends had watched it. So we asked around to see how the show was and if we could die-die shift schedules to catch it one evening.

All concurred that the singing was really quite good. Some said that at 2 hrs 15 min, the show was too long. Many weren't comfortable with the explicit scenes. Especially the one of a 12-yr old girl raped by her stepfather. Alot took issue with that scene being portrayed on stage, with a neon stick, no less. Many also left at intermission. I couldn't comment because I haven't seen it. I can't comment if that scene to me, was well done or shoddily put together.

Explicit? Really? If these friends squirmed, what would the rest of the humans do?

Given the director's credentials, the friends were surprised that the script wasn't as tight as it should be. There were many different themes going on in the show and they were just a little overwhelming for the audience to absorb.

The show ends on 14 March. 1 more week. I'm almost curious to get a ticket just to be able to personally validate the 'bad' of the show. We'll see.

Lunch Unlimited

(7atenine is now merged with Jazz at Southbridge, as of Jan 2010)

It was to 7atenine for a long Saturday nibble.

We like it that it's a 'surprise' menu. They've kept some favorites at lunch though.

We loved the refreshing tomato gazpacho with melon. It really whet our appetites for all that followed.

The slices of beef were simply exquisite. The dish was served on a hot stone. So we let it stand to whatever degree we like our meats to be.

7atenine's pasta and risotto are always good. The chef really know what to do with the texture and the flavors. Today's pesto risotto made a lasting impression.

The fried chicken was actually really nice. It was well marinated with really moist flesh. You know me and chicken. So I took only 2 bites of it. Heh.

We loved the lamb on bovril mash. They really got the art of cooking lamb down pat.

Unfortunately, I didn't think the beef brisket was done well. The sauce was hearty. There was something about the meat that wasn't too tender to chew. Maybe it was because the fats weren't spread out properly, so it was pretty dry at some parts. LOL. The grilled mackerel wasn't impressive. While the distinctly strong taste of the mackerel was tempered by the sweet pumpkin cubes, the fish didn't taste too good on its own. I still think Japanese restaurants do grilled saba best.

We were all filled up at 11 dishes. So out came 2 lovely desserts of a raspberry mousse, trifle and caramelized pear tarts.

As usual, service is excellent. They know my preferences and never fails to reserve a slightly more private spacious corner for me. I always leave 7atenine completely satiated.

Checking Out Joo Chiat

My idea of Friday night fun, is to explore the Joo Chiat area, alone. I walked up and down the length of Joo Chiat Road at least thrice and round to Onan Road and the backlanes.

I wanted to check out the supposed nightlife that got the Joo Chiat residents riled, still. Well, 2 years since the campaign to save the precinct was launched, the nightlife is bustling.

The sleaze stretch hit at the junction of Joo Chiat Place and Crane Road and lasted all the way to Changi Road where the largest Hotel 81 stands above the Mr Teh Tarik kopitiam. What I saw was rather unsettling.

There are 4 main bars that have customers and hourly girls spilling out to the pavement and the roads. It's like a street party! I've never seen so many painted looks of desperation and resignation since the bars at Patpong and Phuket. I've never seen that many men wear a look of hunger for sex so openly. I wasn't harrassed. I'm a girl. I'm dressed too conservatively tonight to be mistaken for anything more than a clueless Japanese tourist. I didn't dare to take photos, in case some men think I'm a private detective sent by their wives and decide to clobber me on the head...

In contrast, I had a problem with some of the foreign workers. There were so many foreign workers who were just milling around and sitting by the narrow pavement. That, by itself was fine. Those guys were okay. There were some who followed me for a distance or reach out a hand to try to touch me with a smile or a leer. I stopped in front of the mosque (safest building in the area!), turned around and whipped out the puny Swiss army knife (I'd have preferred a broken glass bottle). I didn't speak a word. They fell back. Whew. I wouldn't know what I'd do if they didn't. These idiots definitely thought it was fun to 'disturb' me. They probably thought I was fresh meat going to work at one of the bars. I saw 2 fights and broken bottles strewn all around.

I mean, if Joo Chiat is a quiet, middle class residential area, what I saw tonight is definitely nothing like what it is before sundown. Joo Chiat Road by night, is effectively a red-light district. The sleaze completely takes over the daytime charm and heritage of the area.

There're so many budget hotels in Joo Chiat. Unfortunately, I only sighted less than 10 tourists in the 3 hours or so I wandered around, from before sundown to 10pm. In contrast, I saw at least 20 strays who are obviously community cats- some with a tip-ear; all healthy and plump.

After hopping over many many huge scuttering cockroaches, engine oil and fresh vomit, I decided I didn't have an appetite for dinner there afterall.

So I called the man to come pick me for a late dinner somewhere else sanitary.

Oh, I definitely don't want that cheap unit.

What A Good Massage

While wandering around Joo Chiat, I stopped by this dubious looking shop and had a kick-ass Thai massage.

I was a skeptical. But the shop was clean in all ways. The masseuses were decently clad and looked like they could twist me into a pretzel with no sweat.

My masseuse was so strong. She didn't realize I could take really hard massage till I requested for her to give me a proper knead. She also used the ball of her feet, heels and toes to ease the kinks out of the muscles. When she realized I could stretch, she pulled and stretched me even more. I was a little worried there that she would snap my muscles!! But she knew what she was doing. At the end of the session, she probably cracked every single bone in my body.

I must be a sucker for punishment. The foot reflexology had me wincing in pain and left the soles feeling so good after.

I haven't had such a good one for a long time!

Women Are Their Own Greatest Enemy

Remind me again the thousand and one things that I hate about women.

If one woman can publicly and repeatedly remark to another that she wouldn't want an unmarried female as a boss, I think that's the greatest irony in the world.

When you climb to the top of the corporate ladder, you are judged by the virtue of your marital status?

It is as shallow as me saying, "I wouldn't want a (fat) married woman as my boss."

Her comment is so superficial till it doesn't even consider competencies and life passions within. Among other things, I can't quite reconcile her lofty position with her narrow-mindedness. She is the perfect stereotype. Anyway, she really should exercise before her legs buckle under her mighty girth.

That's what I call a bloody joke.

That is one woman I find distasteful. I respect that values she hold. Yet she goes against everything I stand for.

I have found many crude and crass, but not as distasteful as this one who liberally throws religion behind every phrase she utters. I wish she doesn't talk so much or tell so many she-thinks-are-entertaining stories that many of us aren't quite interested in. It doesn't endear her to me. It turns me off. Everything is from her experience and her point of view. These views have no space for alternative opinions or voices.

I want to keep my distance. May I not cross paths with her.

Ah. Somebody mentioned that she wears a big diamond ring. It's probably not too fake. I've seen the ring. I just can't recall how many carats it is.

Oh well. I just have to make sure that mine's bigger than hers. ;p Tell me you hate women too.

Watched The Watchmen

15 years in the making. Watchmen, The Movie.

Finally on the big screen.

The story of the Watchmen is really what got me interested in world politics as a young girl. I wasn't into the superhero thing. It opened my eyes to a world that's bigger than I am out there. It woke my awareness of people doing things that they felt they ought to do- doing what's right versus doing the right thing.

To condense 12 issues into 160 minutes is a huge challenge. No director wanted to touch the making-of-the-movie with a 10-foot pole. Till Zack Snyder decided that it had to be done.

*possible spoilers ahead*

I'm not going to give anything away. I wouldn't say the movie adhered closely to the comic series. There are discrepancies (big and small) that fans will spot straightaway. I love those gory scenes. I love that the movie featured the original Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. I love it that the finale song was a Bob Dylan cover Desolation Row by My Chemical Romance.

I can only say that the movie isn't disappointing. It's pretty good.

Oh, don't bother staying on till the end credits finish rolling. There ain't lollipops handed out at the end.

Hakata Ramen

There is a new ramen place at Holland Village. It looked pretty good on the outside.

I think Yoshimaru Ramen Bar is just 2 days old. But the lunch crowds are filling in fast.

We hopped in to try it out. Its signature ramen is hakata.

We ordered strangely. We didn't bother with its signature ramen. I had the spicy cold soba. That was alright. The girlfriend had the Tan Tan Mian tonkotsu which was a little too porky. Even I wrinkled my nose at it after a couple of mouthfuls.

The chashu wasn't impressive. I was more impressed by the number of chefs they had in the kitchen and the many floor staff milling around. At full house, they outnumbered the customers.

I won't go out of my way to eat here though. (The parking is horrendous.) Though I haven't tried its traditional hakata ramen or the moridakusan, I'm fairly sure it won't be much competition against Menya Shinchan. *beams brightly*

I didn't get much background information about the who and how. I'm sure the other foodies will ferret that out soon enough.

Yoshimaru Ramen Bar
31 Lorong Liput, Holland Village
Singapore 277742 (just below Pet Lovers Centre)
T: +65 6463 3132 F: +65 6466 4522

All Pink

The girlfriend got me a pen in the most lovely fuchsia.

Just because.

I love it that she remembered my pink notebook and went out to get a pen to match it specifically.

Heeeee. I think she wants to stop me from pinching pens from restaurants. ;p

She's awesome lah. The gift is made sweeter because the skies held out bright and sunny today and by a stroke of luck, we squeezed in an evening swim.

What a fantastic motivation for me to crawl that 20 laps.

I Feel So Tired Sometimes

There's a very good reason why our particular troupe of volunteers run a very tight ship and are so efficient. We've worked together for years and right from the start, we've been very clear and focused in the direction to move and objectives we want to achieve.

We prefer to fly under the radar and quietly do our work. We are a very close-knit group and rather resistant to having new volunteers join us on rounds for house visits. We're almost anti-social that way.

I don't know if the others share my sentiments or they have other peeves. I do know we're anal as hell.

But I'm weary of having to explain to newbie volunteers why they cannot wear their 0.5 or 1.5 carat diamond engagement rings, but it's okay for the plain wedding band to remain.

I'm bushed from persuading the women (despite all their claims of allergies to other metals besides gold) to switch their glittering earrings to something plain or plastic. If it has to be yellow gold, it better be no more than a 3mm speck.

I'm almost amused at trying to enlighten men on why they can wear expensive plain black Cole Haan air oxfords or plain Converse, but not track shoes with prominent logos of a swoosh or 3-stripes.

I'm very displeased at having to spell out why it's bloody not okay to drive fancy cars on these rounds and park at the bottom of the block. If you want to drive a fancy car, park 5 blocks away and jolly well walk to designated block.

I'm worn-out from justifying why it's okay to have fancy phones but we'd prefer to wear plastic and cheap watches over stainless steel and gleaming gold timepieces.

I'm exasperated from trying to coach intelligent people to drop whatever accent from their spoken English and speak proper Singlish. For pete's sake, intelligent people should be able to switch accents at will to accommodate the crowd.

I'm beat from sifting out the volunteers who are plain annoying and from those who truly understand what the work means. I understand inexperience. I understand burn-out. But I don't understand thoughtlessness. House visits aren't like washing toilets.

It gets to me pretty often nowadays. Maybe I'm just a persnickety bitch.

So Fun This Train Ride

When I got on the train at Ang Mo Kio this evening, it wasn't crowded. But it wasn't empty either. I sat next to this guy at the corner.

He was wide awake when I sat down. When the train moved out of the station, he was seemingly nodding off to sleep. In a matter of seconds. Right.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Never mind. I focused on my book. Then his stupid shoulders also nodded towards me, bumping my shoulder with every big and tiny jolt of the train.

So damn obvious can. I shut my book and waited.

When the train left Novena station, his head drooped closer to my shoulder. I took a deep breath to last at least 30 seconds, pitched the yell at the highest and piercingly aimed it into his ear.

He literally leapt out of his seat and ran to the other corner while hollering "你神精病!!" He disappeared into the cabins beyond.

I laughed out loud and glanced around. The woman on my other side also got up promptly and went off to the next cabin. The entire cabin of about 18 other people looked really stunned. Well, whatever. Nobody said anything and everyone avoided eye contact with me.

Not funny meh?

Wahahahahahahhaha. Priceless, I tell you. I had this idiotic grin plastered on my face all the way home.

Otah

This Malaysia town, Muar, is famous for its otah.

The girlfriend knows exactly which shop the locals go to- Otak Otak Cheng Boi at 87 Jalan Lama.

She was in Muar over the weekend. She got 2 packs for me- 1 prawn and 1 fish. She painstakingly froze it and lugged it back to Singapore for me. She had already given me 2 packs a couple of weeks ago. I ate that as an otah sandwich on a long flight.

That otah is awesome. Tender and scrumptiously spicy, it really hit all the right notes. Thanks babe!

The man loves otah. He's home late and hungry. He has sliced off a big portion of the delicious fish otah and is eating it right now with olive rice.

What's A Printer To You?

In the ladies' toilet, I overheard something that bothered me greatly.

2 colleagues were talking about how they prefer not to buy printers for home use. Instead, they do all their printing in the office. And not just their personal stuff. In a public toilet, they freely shared that they used the office copiers to churn out assessment books, print research pages and stuff for their children, husband, sisters, brothers, other relatives even. The tone was so sanctimonious.

I have done the occasional printing of air-tickets for personal vacations and stuff like that. We all do that. But I don't print my son's entire 100-page thesis or the pre-school's annual 50-page syllabus in full color. Let's not go into taking the reams of 80g A4 paper home for those who own printers.

(I'm still digesting the fact that many don't own printers at home. I mean, a printer is so convenient, yes?)

I know this sort of behavior is common. But from the conversation I overheard, that would be considered a blatant and wilful mis-use of office property isn't it? Or rather, since when is it okay to just use office property at will?

It's none of my business to tattle. I'm not going to do that. The conversation simply set me thinking. It's so reflective of human nature. It says so much about their characters. I'm just glad these 2 are not people I work with often.

I Suck At Listening

I can't do audiobooks.

I was just listening to Ori and Rom Brafman's Sway- The Irresistible Pull of Irrational Behavior.

The narrator had a good voice. The cadences rose and fell, not dramatically, but with decent flair. The music was a soothing instrumental background accompaniment to the tones and emphasis of the sentences.

But it was very hard for me to listen to the messages and concepts while trying to visualize the picture that the voice was painting.

By the third chapter, I nodded off to sleep. (No difference from how and why I fell asleep during lectures in school!) I gave up and went to the bookshop to grab the hard copy.

I have listened to audiobooks in all sorts of manner- while curled up in huge sofa on a rainy evening or doing stretches; snuggled in bed under the covers or eating an apple ham and cheese sandwich; during a flight or a bath; when I'm doing my hair or nails.

All Fail. I was completely distracted after 20 minutes. Sitting down proper to read gets my full attention way more. For the want of a better phrase, the tangible book provides for a better feel and touch than audiobooks.

I have a choice still, so I'll stick to physically flipping the pages of books while nursing a hot cup of tea.