Winning & Losing

The abalone craving continued to be satiated at dinner at Tatsuya. It's been one a tight week and the pre-scheduled organization-wide shut down of computer systems at 7pm couldn't be a better excuse to get offline and get a life.

When I got to dinner, the friends all toted their Berries and occasionally sent out emails, which was fine by me. It wasn't an interruption of dinner. It gave us a peace of mind. You'll see this phrase crop up all the time. It's important to us that we secure that before we sleep. When things are going on, we sleep very little. But that sleep needs to be deep and undisturbed. The friends have acknowledged that they love their Berries. Strange, but it works well for them. It's become more than a necessary evil. It's corporate slavery and the best part, they love it.

This work-life balance is bullshit. It's about work-life integration. It drives me crazy to have to lug the friggin laptop everywhere. The piece of crap is akin to an unwanted intruder. A BlackBerry would be so much snazzier. I'm on the verge of actually wishing that the organization will authorize the sync of BlackBerry to laptop for us. But, that's wishful thinking (I say this with all irony, sarcasm and seriousness).

Don't sneer at how much we love our jobs. We're very clear about its benefits, relative negative points, as well as future repercussions or positive ripples. A couple of years back, we all had the choice of an alternative lifestyle. But we chose otherwise, and little did we realize that we've fully embraced the full weight of our decisions.

Tonight, I didn't just win the bet with the friends about a job or determination. I also lost my bets placed on other friends. :) In that, it called for a celebratory dinner. Years ago, we made a bet over dinner at Tatsuya when it was in its previous location. Years later, all bets are evened out over dinner at Tatsuya at its current address.

Abalone!!!

After going on a binge for all things spicy, I was hit by this insane craving for the Chinese-style stewed abalone with spinach. I wanted to drench a bit of white rice in that gravy and call it dinner. I think that's about the only thing on a Chinese menu I like, aside from the clear soups. Even so, I very much prefer vegetarian soups at restaurants because they do not have that eeeky chicken or porky taste/smell.

My day at work was crazy. A full-day conference, nervous checking of the emails at 7pm before dashing off to (personal) dinner. There would be more things to be done over emails after dinner. Thankfully, the venue was quiet and did much to soothe the mind.

The abalone craving was satisfied at Jade. They made me wait a really long time for the dish because they wanted to steam the abalone properly before serving. It was worth the wait for sure. But the other dishes also took their time in arriving at the table. So I had to gently hurry them along. The servers apologized profusely because I told them I was starving.

For some reason, again, we never made it to dessert. Nothing much appealed. Apparently, we over-ordered and couldn't finish the food. I tapau-ed a tofu-vegetables thingy for lunch the next day. It went really well with brown rice.

Facilitation

Part of my job involves acquring competencies to be a skilled and politically correct facilitator. In many negotiations and discussions, I've to intentionally create a group consensus or at least give the impression of democracy while steering the group towards a mutually agreeable (or pre-set) outcome or objective. There can be neutral facilitation or purposeful facilitation to create conversations and meet objectives.

There have only been a few professional facilitators so far, whom I'm in awe of and defer to. One, especially so, in terms of her industry knowledge, experience, intellect and amazing common sense. It's been frequently said that facilitators don't need to be subject matter experts. I beg to differ. Sure the process is there to draw out expert opinions and comments. But I feel facilitators should read up on the subject or at least demonstrate broad understanding of certain issues. Not everyone can be a facilitator. There's a certain aura and confidence that a facilitator needs to have in order to take the process up to the next level. It's very painful to see a facilitator obviously out of her league and doesn't quite know what to do, and worse, make politically incorrect boo-boos.

A couple of facilitation sessions have confirmed my suspicions about what I feel towards this skill. I've always known that I don't like this thingy. I can do it. I think I can do it decently, but I don't like it. It expends a great deal of energy. I'm too lazy to do that. I'm not good enough anyway. *shrug* I've had to attend training sessions to acquire this skill, which provided a good start, but unfortunately, not as much depth as I'd hoped. I'm so arrogant as not to think very highly of the my trainers because what they're teaching can be found on the internet and in the books. It's kinda colloquial. They're not adding enough value to classroom-based learning. Importantly, they're not hitting the right notes with the so-called Gen X, Y and Z learners who expect a hell lot more out of training sessions. These trainers stick to the traditional methods of downloading information which isn't exactly in the vogue now. I'm not meeting the true professionals. Why.

The facilitation skills taught in these basic classes are too generic and doesn't quite address the politically-correct part of it on an international level. That's a specific area I've to learn on my own and perhaps try it again sometime. Along with the accumulation of experience, practice makes perfect, I suppose.

Around The City

Before leaving the city, I arranged lunch with an old friend who has been on the move around the world. Trying to catch him is like playing Bingo. I see him about once a year in some random city, otherwise it’d be in Singapore when he comes in on work trips. His current office in Jakarta is pretty near my hotel, so he has offered to walk over. But for variety, I rather head to another hotel that is near his office. It’s all at the infamous roundabout.

After lunch, he was going to put me in a cab back to the hotel. I was like, “No need! I walked here and I can walk back. I cut across that roundabout” It was just a 10-minute walk. Nothing impossible or out of the way. He was kinda shocked that I walked. “With all that traffic?” Hey hey, I was trained on the streets of Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City!

“Don’t try this at night. It’s not safe.” He admonished. Aye. I wouldn’t walk the streets at night alone anyway. I’d just get the hotel driver to take me places. But once in a bit, I want to get out there to see the city. Cocooned away in my hotel and the malls, all that I’m seeing feels surreal. This isn’t exactly Dubai where I wouldn’t be surprised by anything the city does or proclaims to be. I've too little time here to see the other facets of Jakarta. I haven't gone to the east, west or south. This is a city that is a conundrum.

Stupid Green Crocodile

The work associate brought out this prop for me to play with. He uses it while facilitating discussions or during speaking engagements. He told me to press any one of those teeth. I was like, "It's going to bite me!" He swore that it wouldn't. So I randomly picked one tooth. The plastic jaws snapped. Owwwwww. He dissolved into guffaws.

He explained that this prop had been set for the jaws to snap when a particular tooth is pressed. I've so far, been the first to get my fingers bitten on the first try. Grrrrr.

The photo above is simply made of posed shots. I had to press it again just to verify what the work associate said. The second round, the jaws snapped on the third press of a random tooth. Hmmmph. The silly hard plastic can split a girl's cuticle man! Tsk.

Buying Batik

I wanted to get some batik souvenirs for the office. Batik Keris has cute drawstring pouches and fans. I've no idea if the batik will appeal to the colleagues. But I suppose they'll find some use for it. In addition, I got the family a bagful of batik shirts and casual dresses. We love batik and always like to stock up. I understand that Sarina departmental store is a good place to browse for good quality batik. Unfortunately I don't have the time to get there even though it's fairly near my hotel, so the only option is Batik Keris, which seems okay.

When I stared at the price tags in the shop, I went up in flames. The Batik Keris outlet at Bali's airport sells its wares for double or 2.5 times the prices of those sold in their retail shops in Jakarta. GRRRRRRRR. I forgot the rule of thumb- airport shops are always expensive. (Unless we're talking about DFS at Changi Airport.) Luckily I didn't buy that much stuff in Bali. The bulk of the purchases were done on this trip to Jakarta.

I also fulfilled my intention of buying fabric. I don't quite like the traditional designs for batik on the clothes. The end products are a little dated, if you will. I want the fabric to get the tailor to do some simple sheath dresses and maybe a couple kebayas. I love the lovely colors. Given the wide range of choices on the racks, picking out the nice ones from the gaudy wasn't too difficult. These fabrics come in a wonderful set of 4 different designs for us to do whatever we want with it! I bought a lot of stuff! The fabrics are heavy though. My 10kg luggage has now increased to 29 kg. :p

Reading The Newspapers

While flipping through the Jakarta Globe this morning, my eyes were irresistibly drawn to this article which reported on Bali's reactions about the film 'Cowboy Paradise'. I decided I wanted to blog about it. Then, I was absolutely tickled when I saw that our national newspaper also decided to report about it tonight.

I couldn't stop laughing. When I saw that trailer on the website, I thought it was pretty cool. Those who frequent Bali, raise their hands. We've all known that about Kuta and Legian, haven't we? The sex and drugs at the clubs in Kuta and its sleazy cheap hotels are a huge turn off. Now, Seminyak is picking up from where Kuta has slacked. I saw it unfold in front of me last week. Despite the authorities being indignant about this facet of the island, in spite of Bali being touted as a wedding destination, Cowboy Paradise isn't making up stories.

Well, I'm not sure if the country will take issue with the author or Singapore. Indonesia and Singapore have a dicey delicate bilateral relationship. In the Indonesian newspapers, there isn't a day that goes by without linking corruption, tax evasion, suspects and Singapore in the same breath. It's as if every wanted criminal or suspect in some ongoing bribery probe is in Singapore, and this isn't me saying it, this is what the newspapers are writing about. For example, this case which referred to one of our hospitals. There're alot of thoughts I have about these various linked or seemingly random topics of which I'll not put in writing. Read between the lines and look at recent events in both the political, social and economic spheres of the country and you will know the points I've left unspoken.

A film like Cowboy Paradise is likely to blow alot of things out of proportion. It's a documentary, which means technically, it should take a neutral stand. But it doesn't mean that the audience will do the same. How would we like it if there're documentaries floating around about Geylang, Joo Chiat, Kovan kopitiams and Orchard Towers? Have a look and brew your opinions about it.

At The Malls

My work associates have a sweet tooth. As a result, Secret Recipe was a mid-day stop. I wasn't really interested in its cakes, not when there's fabulous homemade stuff waiting for me at home in the freezer. Still, I gamely went along and we picked out 2 flavors to share.

Oh man, those were gigantic slices of cake. It was a unanimous vote to share the chocolate (dark and white) and durian. I couldn’t stomach more than 3 spoonfuls of either. That durian cake, honestly, was pretty good- if you like durian. Luckily the chocolate cake wasn’t too cloyingly sweet, so I had a couple more spoonfuls.

Jakarta's malls are expansive, and well, expensive. Plaza Indonesia and Grand Indonesia occupied me for a bit. (Only because I shop very very fast- I don't waste time window shopping or looking. I just head straight to the boutiques I'm' interested in.) They're Jakarta's better, bigger and more opulent answer to our Ion, Ngee Ann City and Paragon malls. It's kinda nice strolling through half filled malls on weekdays.

The range of products in the shops are also differently stocked from what shops at home. Say for example, the Chanel and Hermès boutiques. Those at home are always crowded and out of stock for just about everything I want. In Jakarta, these boutiques are fully stocked and had everything that I had an eye on. Plus the sweet sales executives could read my mind and offered me a version in matte finish rather than metallic. I honestly don't know the price variation for certain items. But it's not that much. When I'm looking for a specific design and especially a specific color, the price isn't a consideration. Procuring that item is the priority. In this case, I wonder why I should look to Europe then.

I forgot that smoking is allowed within Jakarta's malls. Restaurants are still divided into the smoking and non-smoking sections, which makes it a little more comfortable to dine in, but not conducive. The worst is on weekends when the number of visitors go up. I don't like the other table’s smoke wafting my way at meal times. I do take the occasional puff, but I hate smelling like an ashtray. No matter how classy the mall is, the stale smell of smoke is not at all impressive. Just a quick stroll through to find food was already annoying. Imagine how you’d feel if you’re at the malls for hours of shopping. In the end, I beat a hasty retreat from the malls and disappeared to the hotel where I won’t be too irritated.

I Like This Bathroom

This hotel isn't what I define as luxury accommodation. It's definitely very well kept and maintained, along with renovation efforts along the way. My room is what I define as comfortable. I like the bathroom very much because it has a separate shower stall. You know how much I bloody hate bathtubs because I always fall out of them. It's so annoying having to get into a bathtub to take a shower because the hotel think it's cool to put a showerhead above the bathtub and nowhere else. Under these circumstances, I've always fallen out of a bathtub once over 3 showers.

Now, we've a daily subsistence allowance allocated for the respective countries of travel. It isn't called 'subsistence' for nothing. It's enough to fill your stomach and put you up at a 3-star or maybe 4-star hotel. And that's the whole point of work trips. It's not a vacation yo. (Especially not when you only have the work laptop and are cut off from communicating with your loved ones using the cheapest option of Skype.) The budget is yours to decide to spread it out in ratio of accommodation and food, or to blow it all on the hotel and foot the food bill on your own.

I'm a little spoilt. I NEVER stinge on food. I'm known to abandon colleagues for my private pursuits elsewhere at mealtimes. I do that because I know that their food choices aren't mine. But when I travel in a group, group dynamics dictate the choice of hotel, and often for meals. In that, I will not deviate from the norm and cause trouble to the organizers. I'll just deal with it and make do, including packing bottled water and whatever else I deem necessary into the suitcase.

However, when I travel alone, it's another story altogether. While convenience and proximity to my meeting venues are the top considerations, I will also need a reasonably pretty hotel that might bust the allocated subsistence. It doesn't happen often though. So when it does, I top up the difference from my own pocket. That extra cost is negligible when one takes into consideration the peace of mind received.

Ultimately, I want a room that doesn't smell funny, doesn't have creepy crawlies, has a steady wifi/lan connection, gives me crisp drinking water, separate shower stalls or no bathtubs, hot water with strong pressure, has Discovery Channel on the tv, clean floors and carpets, a good bed and a secure front door. Now, a hotel room (on work trips) that fulfils all these demands shouldn't be so hard to find, is it?

Learning About Fish

Due to similar dietary preferences amongst the humans, seafood and vegetables have dominated the meals so far. I'm not complaining! I'm happy that we don't have to look at meat as a compulsory item. Many of the official lunches contain the dreaded chicken. Thankfully, there's always something tofu or gado gado to go along with the main stuff.

I've been on the prowl for sustainable fishes that I can eat without guilt. It's quite sad that many of my favorite fish in this region are endangered too. Indonesia's been teaching me many things about fish. I've been introduced to the ikan empurau, the mahi mahi. I'm liking this ikan gurame. Deep fried, this gurame served to us still retained the moisture beneath its crispy surface. It made for quite a filling meal. My hosts were rather taken aback when they realized I didn't need any rice with the meal.

The only problem, these fish taste better when fried, which isn't exactly the healthiest way of eating fish. Sigh. I've tried them steamed and they just don't taste as good as the other usual sea water fish. :(

Me and Black

Packing for work trips is as easy as dressing for work. That isn’t a difference to the clothes I wear. Perhaps I might put on more pants, with due consideration to cultural sensitivities in different cities. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from work trips, it’s how to dress conservatively.

The color of choice is still somber black, grey, dark blue and perhaps brown. Any other color makes me look too young and flippant. You know how much I favor black.

As young child, I had an etiquette teacher who drilled it into me that I ought to wear black stockings only in the evenings. I agree, mostly. I still disregard that, especially during dark winters which necessitate thick stockings with boots all day, and like today. Modesty dictated that black stockings wouldn’t be a breach of etiquette; not covering the legs would be. As it is, I’m already pushing it by wearing the translucent sort of stockings instead of a pair of opaque.

It’s really quite unbearable to be wearing anything that sticks to the skin in this weather. The dress was already made of the lightest, breathable fabric. As porous as stockings are, they still make me feel warm. Thank heavens for air-conditioning in the meeting rooms. I’d so melt in this 36⁰C heat and humidity. I couldn’t stop perspiring. A 15-minute tea reception had already plastered the dress and outer shell to my back. Another 15 minutes would have completely drenched the clothes.

In Jakarta

A new week begins in another city. I can't explain it, but I'm loving the work trips very much. There's something powerfully addictive about pulling double shifts on these trips (meetings in the day and clearing emails at night), learning new things at an accelerated pace and being entrusted to my own devices. I relish the independence and the flexibility on these work trips. These are my motivators at work. They make me want to live up to that trust placed in me, and do more.

Flying economy on work trips took a bit of getting used to, but it's alright. Luckily my portfolio looks at the region that's never more than a 6-hour flight each way. I've developed my coping mechanism of declining meals to sleep through the flight. As tiring as it gets at times, I wouldn't trade this to stay put at home. Travelling, to me, isn't a perk. Neither is it a chore. It just is.

Work trips have allowed me to cultivate secret projects, see the socio-economic realities of the cities, as well as enable me to keep in touch with the friends living in the various countries. I can't be more grateful. In any other job, I'd have to do weekend jaunts and be very hard-pressed for time.

As a couple, the man and I are very used to constant travelling. We like it that our respective work trips hone our individual perspectives and world views. Do we miss each other? Not particularly, not when there's Skype. (This is the part where I want to fling the useless work laptop across the room) Have I mentioned that the man is a very good writer? He is very eloquent and spouts artistic snarky lines. That makes communication a breeze. I think the only thing he's worried about having me loose in certain shops with his credit card very handy in my wallet. Heeeeheeeee.

At Home With The TV On

On weekends when we've slightly more energy, the man cooks. We always have salad at home for dinners. In fact, I pride myself on tossing a good salad because, well, that's about the only thing I can do that doesn't require cooking. :p The man, of course attempts the more difficult task of sorting out the entire dinner.

Tonight, in addition to the mains, he made guacamole and baba ghanoush to go with multi-grain tortilla chips. He poached 4 eggs to swim in the asparagus soup. He had gotten roma tomatoes to make fresh tomato sauce for the summer pasta of zucchini and squash. Parmigiano-Reggiano was grated to go along with that. I'm told that this parmigiano-reggiano is the cheese that's all the rage currently in recipes and wherever.

We finally got around to watching 'The Vice Guide to Liberia'. It's got 8 parts with bite-size portions of about 5minutes each. Have you watched that? It's seriously fascinating. I wouldn't know what the hell is going on in Liberia till now.

The man put on the documentary of 'Iron Maiden's Flight 666'. That 2008 'Somewhere Back In Time' World Tour was one amazing trip. I love how their private Boeing 757 became a big schoolbus in the air, full of jokes and fun. It must have been a tough tour, but they cut out the bad bits and the arguments for sure. What's left is really a warm, feel-good effect for possibly the last 2 tours for the band. The documentary is well-produced and rather humorous. Filming in HD meant that I could see droplets of perspiration flying off the guitarist onto his guitar and everywhere. And all their wrinkles. For some reason, none of us, except the man, have listened to Iron Maiden in our youth. I wasn't into them. But after watching this dvd, I'm a convert. I forgot how beautiful their songs are, especially Bruce Dickinson's voice, which made their brand of heavy metal sound like melodic rock.

The awesome ending to the meal couldn't be better. A dense homemade banana chocolate cake. It was mindblowingly d.e.l.i.c.i.o.u.s without being overly sweet or heavy. (The clever girl who made this is sharing the recipe. She got this from here.) The man and I tries to feed her all the time (whenever she's back in town), secretly hoping that she'll make us guinea pigs for all her cakes and pies. I think we're somewhat succeeding.

A Bowl Of Noodles & More

At 3pm, Ion Orchard was a convenient venue for a light lunch. The's a food court at basement which has a stall that I don't mind at all. It sells fishball kway teow soup and all its various permutations. The fishballs are rather springy, tasty. A signboard claims that the stall makes the fishballs daily, fresh as can be from yellowtail. I'll just take it at face value and keep eating bowls of it till it stops being tasty.

Over the really long weekend in Bali, I did practically zero exercise. I didn't even bother to stretch, choosing to sleep in. When I got back to office, work took over and I became a desk zombie, pausing only to feed and sleep. Today, I had to get over this major mind hurdle to coax my body to do something. I sprinted 25 laps in the pool to warm up. Then it was off to check out a new pilates studio for my one-on-one session, which wasn't as intensive as I expected.

I like being lithe. Importantly, I like being able to fit into clothes. Being curvy and having boobs already restrict the choices of clothes. I don't want to have to end up wearing shapeless dresses because I'm too lumpy to fit into anything else. Now that I've finally gotten my body back into the right shape, it must be toned well. Simply by being picky about the food that goes into the stomach and limiting intake of certain items, the body already feels alot lighter, and healthier. (Okay, at this point, please pretend that my alcohol intake is non-existent.)

Exercising isn't just about keeping healthy. Since I'm not one to run miles and do endurance training, it's important that I maintain my strength and flexibility. It's necessary that I keep up with the regime of sparring sessions at boxing classes and judo. Self-defence weighs high on my mind, or for fun, like parkour. With the penchant for travelling alone and exploring strange new places, I like to be prepared. So you see my dainty nails. I've no qualms ripping them out if the situation calls for it. (The pretty nails have been ripped out before, twice.) I don't like to pull hair in a fight. I like throwing a proper punch. :)

TV Lines Are Fabulous

I simply love 24. Jack Bauer is my sort of hero. He's insane! This is one show that I refuse to watch week by week. I wait for the season to be over, then I catch up on all of it. Otherwise, the suspense will just kill me. I can't live by the hour! I've gotta live by the day. So I'll spend hours and nights awake just to finish the episodes.

The other night, I fell in love with Tony Almeida's words. Very nicely put. There were all sorts of connotations and consequences in that one line.

• Curtis Manning: Tony, are we trying to accomplish the same thing here or is this just about you establishing position?
• Tony Almeida: I don't have to establish position, I've already got it. Now what do you say we stop wasting time arm wrestling here. I respect your opinion, but we're going to disagree from time to time and when we do, we're gonna do it my way.
• Curtis Manning: Fine.

(From Day 4, 6.00pm - 7.00pm)

A Spicy Plate Of Goodness

After being deprived of proper sambal and chillies in Bali, I went all out to tank up on it at home.

A night flight home meant that I didn't have the energy to unpack or have supper. In the morning, the flood of work at the office ensured that my mind wasn't on breakfast or snacking. When lunch time rolled around, I zipped out for a very quick bite. I couldn't be happier to have this plate of mee rebus sit in front of me, and looking absolutely spicy delicious.

Those green cut chillies were superbly crunchy, with just the right amount of spice and sweetness. The sambal belachan filled the rest of the gaps. I added a begedil to the plate. That begedil was soaked in sambal. Shiok.

Kome

[Kome is still Kome. But the original chefs Lawrence and Gary now have shifted to Hinoki, as of February 2011]

After sorting out my sambal fix, the next thing I did was to get meself some Japanese food for dinner. It was a toss-up between Tatsuya and Kome. I eat at Tatsuya way too often. So I adjusted the route and made a round to Kome for dinner.

Sometimes, it isn't about the quality of the food. That's more or less expected. I also want to try the flavors and textures that are the trademarks of other chefs aside from my usual haunts. New chefs provide a new zest to the palate as different chefs will strut the same ingredients in a varied final presentation.

I'm starting to want Chef Gary at Kome to take charge of my menu. I honestly prefer the guy's vibe to the owner's. Chef Gary knows what topics to broach with us and he never never crosses the line. I like the dude.

The other chef- the owner, is another story altogether. It irritated the hell out of me when the owner introduced us to other diners and vice versa. I know it's the norm at cosy Japanese restaurants, but we don't like that at all, especially when we're introduced by our occupations. Why the hell is that important? The man and I are anti-social. It pleases us to fade into the corner, not otherwise. All this while, we've never indicated a desire to talk to anyone else and we always pick the corner seats, choosing only to interact with our servers and the chefs. The owner, isn't very good at reading our body language. The entire meal then turns into a mini networking session, which takes the shine off a good dining experience. Sometimes, I wish the owner would learn to shut up. (I haven't forgiven him for not appreciating our bottle of Highland Park 25 y.o and treating it like a blended Black Label.) That is why I don't view Kome as a very classy joint compared to my favored Tatsuya or Goto. For these two reasons, I don't think I'll dine at Kome that often anymore.

Anyway, Chef Gary read my mind. He made me a super tasty mini mentaiko onigiri, which kinda killed stomach space and restricted the number of sushi blobs that could go in. All good still. My favorite dishes for the night- sashimi of herring roe and baby squid. The lightly boiled scallops were a close second. He gently requested us to wait 25 minutes so that he could also boil and grill us a fresh, well-cut piece of unagi. What a nice welcome home.

Kome Japanese Dining
No. 10, Bukit Chermin Road,
The Keppel Club, Singapore 109918
T: +65 6273 0118 F: +65 6273 0868

A Getaway Is Good

This trip, the reasonably-priced resorts provided me solitude and seclusion from most modern distractions. I didn't require the rooms to be luxurious, neither do they need to be like rooms in high-rise hotels. It needed to be decent, clean and rustic so that a short holiday could make me feel like I'm really away from the city. (Well, no, I don't want to pitch a tent!)

Generally, I'm not confident of third-party online booking sites for hotels. I prefer to deal direct. That gives me leverage and bargaining power. So sometimes, paying more translates into better deals. This round, if I may say so myself, I negotiated a rather agreeable deal. :p Importantly, the resorts indulged in all my whims and fancies.

Obviously, the one thing that I can't do without is speedy internet access. I thank the internet gods for granting me free and stable wifi throughout the trip so that I could leisurely surf through whatever and any site. Although the open wifi resulted in sharing options, so the security settings on the Macbook flatly rejected to sign me into a couple of websites, like Singapore Airlines. Grrrr. Oh well. I wasn't going to change any flight timings, so I wasn't too ruffled. I resolutely left the work laptop at home on this getaway. There's absolutely no need to dot these restful days with work matters. I'm prepared for the avalanche of work upon return.

I impressed the socks off myself because I didn't even log in to Skype to chat with the man. I just left him text messages once in a while as per my normal habits on work trips. I relished the quiet and shared laughter with the girlfriend too much to babysit him. Anyway, the man isn't needy. He's been gainfully occupied with plenty of distractions and the company of loads of friends.

Languid Hours

I saw this snakeskin clutch in a little shop in Ubud which was quoted to me at RP300,000. If I had insisted, I could have gotten it for RP200,000, except I didn't want it that badly. The same clutch is priced at USD115 at the airport. Talk about ripping off tourists. One is never sure of the true cost of anything in the shops, very much exemplified in the prices in Bali where price spectrums are tilting off the scales in the extremes.

We've done the RP150,000 massages, as well as the USD90 ones. Of course there're clear differences in the ambience of the spa, the use of air-conditioning or air-coolers. But the treatments per se, not obviously so. The quality of the massages is arbitrary and it always depends on the skills of the therapists which aren't relative to the prices.

We've been lucky. The massages have been soothing. Or is it possible that our muscles are so tired and tense that we can't differentiate between the quality anymore? All I know is, the long, gentle strokes of the traditional Balinese massage eased away the tension and put me to sleep during and after the sessions.

Would I pay for a USD90 massage in Bali? Hell, yeah. In a heartbeat. At least I've the luxury of time to enjoy it. At home, I've to make time, plan for a massage and still not be fully relaxed at the end of it. In this case, swimming and intense sessions of pilates work much better for me.

Getting More Drinks

Kuta and Seminyak are areas in Bali that I tend to avoid, not just because of the crazy crowds, but mainly because I'm no longer comfortable with these sides of Bali.

There used to be a time when I loved the wild parties in these areas. Those were the days, I suppose, of getting drunk on cheap alcohol, ingesting magic mushrooms and bobbing through brainless music. Bali provided that sleazy party vibe which was still perceived as slightly classier than Bangkok, Koh Samui or Phuket. Now, I'm wary of these destinations. I'm very mindful of the 12 Oct 2002 Kuta bombings and that it could be very well repeated in Seminyak where the damage would be tremendous.

I'm not even fond of Nusa Dua, save for the fact that the best restaurants in Bali are often found in the area, so I still check it out once in a bit. It's rather telling when the internationally acclaimed restaurants in Bali serve modern European and Australian cuisine, not Balinese or Indonesian.

I had early drinks at Ku De Ta. The cocktails are well mixed. Damn, they're very good. Do I like this place? I hate it. I disliked it then and years on, I'm still not enamored with it. Ku De Ta feels so contrived and poser-ish. Everything it stands for clashes with every aspect of the island culture. It's unfortunately, the most obvious and well known meeting point. I'm not sure if I should feel safe with Ku De Ta's blatant display of security presence. There aren't just vehicle checks. There're bag checks at the door. Security officers are stationed all over the premises and even along its beachfront.

Is it a sign of age? If the friends and I want to party and get drunk in Bali, we'll do it in our own private villa with loads of DFS liquor and spin the music we like. Of course if any one of us is looking for hook-ups or to get laid, we'd have to get out to the clubs, strut about and preen. It's a meat market. I can't say that the idea isn't attractive. We've been there and done that, and it doesn't have to be Bali. :D One would probably land a fairly good romp for a couple of days. What that translates into, will be entirely up to our individual decisions.

Offerings To The Sea

At Seminyak, I quietly observed a Balinese family make their morning offerings to the sea. They were really close to where I was happily seated on my deck chair. Without knowing context, I surmise that it must have been an extra special sort of ritual because their eldest daughter seemed to be the focus of prayers, which is a little different from the usual.

Then the irony struck. Here we have the Balinese people going about their morning prayers in traditional garb. Then there are the tourists in their skimpy bikinis lounging around. Maybe the Balinese are used to it. But I'm not!!! I wasn't in a bikini. I was in a sports top and a bikini bottom. Still I felt damn self-conscious and kept the very decent ankle-length beach dress tightly on till the prayers were done and the people had left.

This entire island, is so touristy. My memories of Bali then and current impressions rather contrasting. I still like this island, but now that my head isn't stuck in the ground oohing and ahhing over resorts and fabulous service, I've come to be rather disappointed in the traditional Balinese food, culture and all. They've eroded, like the way their brilliant corals are fading. I had hoped for something more, but it is what it is- an artificially created economy based on tourism revenue through its sprawling resorts, architectural accolades and legendary service industry.

I was very interested in the odalans happening all over the island at any given time. We came across so many. Some lasted till the wee hours of the morning. What little traditional moments of the culture on this island I witness, I hold dear because this is the Bali I used to know.

At Seminyak

We went to a quiet pocket on the beach at Seminyak.

The girlfriend wanted to learn to surf. The waves were big that morning. I watched her fall a couple of times. The surfboard ripped off her big toenail. But she didn't skip a beat. The toe got taped up and she hopped right back into the surf. I didn't expect less of her. She's such a gutsy one. Determination was splattered all across her facial expressions and body language.

Then she found her balance and crested wave after wave. Her face beamed with unbridled joy. I had to stand up to give her the V sign. It was beautiful to watch. I silently wished I had brought lens for the GrD or a SLR to capture those awesome moments. She's definitely hooked and coming back to surf.

I, on the other hand, didn't feel like surfing. I was happy to run on the sand, did one cartwheel and posed by the surfboard. The sunshine was glorious, the type where you'd need sunblock and still get tanned in 30 minutes. I had books and magazines to read. But I didn't get through half of them. I spent hours lying on the deck chair soaking in the sea breeze and the thunderous crash of the surf, watching the tide turn high and come straight up. I did nothing. Except to get up and go plunge in the sea when I wanted to pee. Heeeeeee.

What a perfect day.

Metis

On blind faith alone in The Frou, I took a 1hr 20min drive from Ubud to Seminyak to Metis for a 3-hour dinner.

I'm in love with the bambu lobster ravioli with Japanese seaweed and white truffle beurre blanc. Not just because anything butter is good okay. The kitchen knows how to do their food. I'm not too confident about their meats. But Metis does great pastas and seafood. We were more than satiated.

A gentle reminder that prices at Metis are pegged to Singapore restaurants. Drinks are good- well mixed and they currently specify that Patron Silver is the pick for the tequila in their one and only margarita on the menu. I balked a little at the prices of drinks though. S$25 for a shot of either Ardbeg 10 y.o and Highland Park 12 y.o? And S$40 for a single shot of Glenlivet 18 y.o! It's pricier than whisky bars in London! Ah well. The price of comfort. I caved in and ordered glasses of the Highland Park 12 y.o on the rocks.

Oh, this time of the year, not so romantic. They've kinda harvested patches of rice and burnt some parts. :p Still, it's a lovely, big, feel-like-you're-kertuked touristy al fresco joint with very decent food. I like its laidback casual chic vibe. Very chill. Hmmm....let's just say that it's nothing that can be replicated at home in Dempsey Hill or Portsdown, or wherever a new spot might be. I didn't have time to check out Sardine which is just across the road. It's intriguing. Since the intention of this trip isn't about food, I haven't made time or effort to think about where I want to eat. Minimal fuss. I'll do that on my next visit to Bali.

Lunch By The Sea

It's been gloriously hot with light showers in the late afternoons and evenings that don't last longer than 30minutes. Bright and blazing in the day, the best thing to do is really to strip down and hang out on the beach with books, magazines and the ipod. Hidden under the umbrella, I was mostly in the shade and didn't even need sunblock. Ha.

The only thing was the dude playing the angklung in the corner. Oh man, just when I was about to get up to tip him and politely request for him NOT to play anything, he left for a new spot at the other side of the beach. Yes, I know he's trying to make a living, but it doesn't mean that I want to suffer through bad playing. I'm not even sure he's musically inclined. He was just hitting the angklung for the sake of making 'music' that is just grating. No sense of rhythm, timing or togetherness. I wanted to scream. The girlfriend is rather bemused that I can tune out (pun intended) shrieking children, but not this.

Chilling out on a Bali beach has never been so fancy with the sparkling rose wine from the local winery- Hatten Wines. Quite refreshing I thought. A good choice over beer or whisky, which might give me a headache in the sun. Of course there's water too. Plenty of chilled bottles to hydrate ourselves with, along with trays of cold towels. We've been very pampered.

The hotel took care to cater light lunches for us. Easy healthy food is the best. Better still if they're not oily. The most important reason- light lunches don't make my tummy fall out and look eeky. Heeeeee. So that day, I loved the bread with tomato relish, quiche of mushroom and asparagus, and squares of cut fruit. The flies were a little annoying though. Thankfully, they disappeared when the food was gone. Peace reigned. I very much prefer the dragonflies that were rather plentiful that afternoon.

Sleeping Well

We backed out of vigorous treks and climbs on this trip, promising ourselves that it'll be a totally relaxing sort of holiday. The sort where we really laze around and not care about the time.

The most luxurious thing of all- a good hard bed with pillows to facilitate deep sleep. We're sharing bed big enough for 3. It helps that when she sleeps, she's quiet as a mouse. Apparently, I haven't kicked her yet, so she says. Well, I haven't had dreams, at least nothing that I can remember. If I'm not dreaming, I won't move very much in my sleep. That probably explains the lack of physical reactions in the night.

It's quite amazing that we aren't too grouchy in the morning. The girlfriend and I have made it for only one breakfast so far. Even then, it wasn't planned. It was more of a oh-we-still-have-time-before-the-footreflexologysession thing.

It's amazing what 9-hour sleeps can do for your body and the complexion. Add the sea air, loads of blue and the sound of the surf to totally soothe the soul. I feel alive. The skin is glowing just that little bit. By today, I don't even mind going without make-up. The dark circles have magically lightened. I've almost forgotten that that is possible.

Out At Sea

I didn't dive!!! Otherwise I'd have gone to Nusa Lembongan and Penida. But I still wanted to be in east Bali for a little while, away from the madness of the south. East Bali is very quiet. Secluded. If you're not diving and don't plan to hang out by the beach all day, you'd be quite mad to pick this as a spot to stay in Bali.

We hung around the quiet Amuk Bay and Padangbai area for snorkeling. Nothing beats the feeling of waking up early in the morning and heading out to sea. I wore a silly grin on my face. Yes, I'm very disappointed that I can't dive. But I'm just as thrilled to be in the water with the snorkel mask. Hey, it's good exercise fighting the currents to go in the direction I want and plunging down to check out the nooks and crannies, as well as get closer to the fish.

Too short a time for snorkeling! I wanted to stay another hour! I just relished the feeling of being in the environment that I love most. The waters aren't crystal clear, but contains plenty of brightly-colored fish and corals. Still, the perimeter of dead corals is extending further, quite obviously so since the last time I was here. It's sad.

Cellulite Abound

You people are terrible.

You don't care about my fat thighs, jiggly rolls and cellulite. I is no Gisele Bundchen. How on earth can I get a swimsuit calendar worthy sort of photos? Even if my idiot-proof camera can catch a flattering angle, I can't exactly make my skin glow without an army of make-up artists.

So, you don't get close-ups of boobs or butt. This blog is PG-rated. And I grabbed this shot after the relaxing Balinese massage when the body is well-oiled, in the hope that the skin wouldn't look too bad.

This is the one and only shot, doctored for color and size, of course. Don't ask for close-ups ah! No more!

On The Beach

The fabulousity of doing nothingness.

By The Pool

No matter how much of a douchebag I think the dude is, I still like his music. His talent shines through very clearly, especially when he doesn't talk. Ha.

Do not laugh at my choice of magazines. I've The Economist, Foreign Affairs and the sorts in the room. I AM entitled to fluffy magazines. Plus I'm reading about guitars. There're other interesting facts and info in the rest of the sections. Really.

The Kindle didn't come along this time. I really prefer holding on to hard copies of books. Since there is plenty of space in the suitcase, 2 books don't take up too much bulk! But I've to remind myself to read slowly so as not to spend the next few hours twiddling thumbs. Music and books. Perfect.

There is absolutely nothing to do in this part of Bali. That's the whole point. We're away from the crowd and noise. I might even get to sleep a full 10 hours tonight. Ah bliss. Exactly what I want. To sit by the pool, gaze at the sea yonder and hear the surf crash against the shore. Not bothered about having a private pool to ourselves. There aren't many humans here. Tomorrow, I'm going to roll in the sand and into the sea. :)

Dinner & An Apple Pie!

So sad that we won't be able to head to NYC to spend summer with the dessert angel and my aunts this year. We can kiss goodbye to visiting the Scotland whisky distilleries too.

We spent a good month agonizing over dates and schedules to see what we could juggle without falling flat on the face. In the end, we just had to make a very hard decision to abandon a vacation to NYC. We don't have that luxury of time. We can't squeeze out the 2 weeks needed. The man's completely flooded too. It kinda feels sucky to have to disappoint so many people.

As much as I'd love to, I can't say 'screw it' and spend 3 weeks away from the office. As it is, I've only taken 5 days of leave and pondering very hard about the rest of it. I'll probably grab another couple of days and that's it. I think the main reason is, the team is very busy and I don't want to be away too long. I really love my job and it somehow, does reciprocate my feelings. Don't poo-poo it okay.

The man's parents took us and the dessert angel out to dinner. We really don't get to see her enough! She came armed with a homemade apple pie! I tell you, I swooned. She spent all afternoon baking it and was miffed with the heat and humidity, which interfered with the pie! I was extremely distracted by the pie all through dinner. It smelt really good. I wasn't even paying much attention to the conversation on death penalty, Scott Turow's Ultimate Punishment, Liberia and mind over matter matters. I was just thinking of warm butter, apple and cold vanilla bean ice-cream. Mmmmmmm. I feel really possessive over this pie. But I'd have to share it with other humans. Gaaah.

Colors For The Day

Seeing that I've no scheduled meetings today, I decided to put on colors via a Walter Baker dress that isn't exactly suitable for the office. The hemline's too high and the neckline's too low. Heh. But I love it. Thanks for forcing it on me, Trove!

Bad move. Totally. Anything away from the usual stark and solemn black makes me feel chirpy. I end up not wanting to do any sort of work besides flouncing around, hugging the new fridge in the office, and surfing online checking out flight details and hotel accommodation for the many work trips coming up. Rather than to palm it off to the colleagues to help out, I like doing these things on my own. I'm so anal that it's much better for me to look at stuff first and tell people what I want. It doesn't work if people present me with options to ask which I prefer because usually, there will be nothing I like out of all choices.

In fact, the friends who travel with me will attest to my annoying habit of monopolizing final decisions on hotels and often, flights (SQ! SQ! SQ! If not, we fly in on separate flights/airlines!). But hey, since I always whine so loud about all these, I should just do it myself and remove any attribution of future blame to travel companions. I'm brilliant at sorting out travel logistics and it takes me just a fraction of time to do so. (Want to hire me as your personal concierge? I is very efficient.) All I need, are the friends' quick decisions. I can't stand indecisive people. So yes, while the discussion is democratic, the outcome is rather autocratic. :p

I'm in a fairly good mood today and can think about fluffy things like what I want to pack into the suitcase for the upcoming getaway. After weeks of rushing around at work, I had no inclination to even think about sorting out a holiday nor pack. I can't wait to get on the plane. Flip flops and casuals will rule. Not wearing any damn heels. I can imagine the bliss already. A couple of days of doing nothingness.

Buying A Bikini

The girlfriend got really impatient with me rummaging through the racks of bikinis and waltzing in and out of dressing rooms. "Pick one! Any one! Just pick that damn S$179 bikini top and be done with it!" I'm not usually so indecisive. But for the life of me, I didn't quite understand why bikinis could range from S$29.90 to S$299. I couldn't tell any difference between the cheap and the expensive ones. Okay, perhaps the elasticity on the expensive ones felt better and some carry UPF ratings.

She breezily perched against the rack and pointed out that "When you're young, everything stays up. You don't need the invisible stitches and secret seams to hold stuff up. When you're older and things ain't as perky, you definitely need to fork out moolah just so to keep everything in and hold 'em up."

Yah lah, I also know that. But I'm very sure that isn't the reason for a S$179 bikini top. I want to know what sort of technology goes into it! It's like jeans, I suppose, and the way it lifts your butt, or not. Luckily I love my body and have been keeping up with the sessions of pilates. Too bad if the cellulite patches still peek out. I'm quite resigned to the fact that unless I fit in daily 3-hour workouts, those patches aren't going away.

I resolutely ignored the girlfriend, of course, and continued browsing through the racks for solid colors in a cut that was at least pleasing to my eye. We trudged a couple of stores. Zilch. In the end, I was like, screw it. I don't wear bikinis much anyway. I do swim, yo. I'll just wear a freaking swimsuit. Even if I snorkel, I'll be covered up in longs because I don't want the back to be sunburnt. So much for wanting to buy a new bikini.

Busy and Lovin' It

When the skies turned dark and poured at the end of the work day, I couldn't be happier. It was just such blessed relief. Rain usually puts me in a nice mood. I loved that heavy pelting of raindrops against the car as it steadily drove me home. The driver was most amused by me humming (and whistling) the theme songs of Smurfs, Strawberry Shortcake and The Love Boat all the way. The end of the week marks a pause to the madness at work. There will be a brief respite before it all starts again.

That's the best part about work- the downs and the ups that bring on the frowns and the laughter. I'm not all that lazy. Just so you know, I do like using my brains. It's fairly fascinating to discover and learn what I can't or won't be able to do.

It's a big sign when all my lunches have become work lunches (and I don't mean lunching with colleagues) and many dinners are spent with clients. I'm beginning to lose track of all the meetings, project deadlines, etc. I've started using the Outlook calendar in earnest for work and my Berry calendar for social events. And what did I just say last month about keeping everything in my head?

Finally, I can use the seriously annoying line (excuse) of "I'm busy" to reject all sorts of requests and outings because I truly am! :p The prioritization of what I do with the time which belongs to me, has never been more compelling.

All In A Day's Work

It was a damn hot day lor. Sizzling, to be precise. And what did I do? I went out to agrotechnology parks (i.e. modern farms on our island) to watch the vegetables grow and the clouds gently swirl across the patch of blue.

Quite an eye-opener I must say. I've not hit any of the farms in Singapore. (Don't most of us grow crops on FarmVille?) I mean, we've so little that it's negligible. Our farms are really placed for educational purposes rather than any practical point. There is no doubt that in times of crisis, the combined production of all farms won't be able to sustain even a quarter of the domestic market. Singapore imports 90% of her food. We'll die if our food supplies are cut, period.

The day ended with a visit to our National Orchid Garden at the Botanics. I do like orchids. It's my choice of flower to jazz up dinner parties at home. Thank goodness the clouds rolled in and made the late afternoon rather cool. Then there's the Cool House in the middle that I always run to before I faint from the heat. I didn't really bother about the species of plants in there, carnivorous or otherwise. It was the cool temperatures that I wanted so that I could stay alive! The sun went away and we were shaded most of the time. That allowed us to spend plenty of time admiring the flowers.

Sweaty and grimy, I was quite happy when the afternoon drew to a close. It's been a long day. I didn't want to go with my guests to our new casino. But I didn't mind attending the other work event in the evening. Honestly, I was looking forward to a light glass of chilled wine in civilized company.

I headed home for a hot shower and a change of clothes. The venue called for fun wear, not solemn dresses. Plus I'm at this stage where I cannot be bothered with subsuming my identity at work. I've made a promise to myself that I'll just be me. Some guests really worked the room. But I didn't bother to do that. I only schmoozed with the hosts, one or two others here and there, and that was that. I was very focused on the alcohol. What did I know, the session (quality of drinks and food, along with good service from the floor staff) at The Tippling Club was simply fabulous.

More About Malts

We've had so many wonderful bottles of single malts these 2 months. Again, I've favorites from all the selections. By now, whether a bottle is cask strength isn't even a consideration anymore. It's simply indicative that one might need to open up the single malt with crisp water for varied flavors.

Matured in a bourbon cask, the limited edition 30 y.o Auchentoshan 1978 is a surprisingly simple and soft dram. The taste has been described as "butter shortbread with tangerine zest". Quite so. I just like the idea of having a bottle of whisky that's bottled in the same year I was born.

At a social event, someone mentioned about "the very little known and obscure Lagavulin 16 y.o" is one of his preferred bottles and how difficult it was to buy a bottle in Singapore. I had to stop myself from rolling the eyes. I could order you a carton of it! I was so tempted to say, "That's a very reliable bottle. by the way, I really like the Lagavulin 1993 Distillers Edition." I know, it'd terribly rude of me. But I can't help it. I love it when people think I'm yet another silly woman who doesn't know anything about single malts. Now, back to said bottle of my preferred Lagavulin. It's double matured in a bourbon cask, then in a cask of Pedro Ximenez sherry. The taste is layered and smooth, with a slight peat that greatly enthralls me.

Not all 30 y.o single malts taste good. However, the Glenfiddich 30 y.o turned out to be a most pleasant find. Lush, woody, rich and mellow, the Speyside single malt is quite popular on the table, suitable even for beginners. Its honeyed notes are deceptive and seductive.

The Bunnahabhain 35 y.o 1971 vintage is a total winner for me. I love (some) Islay malts. I like most bottlings of Bunnahabhain. Or could it simply be the magic in the Margadale River which lies north of the distillery?

But the one (+ few) Islay malt I'm not digging is the Smokehead. In particular, this expression of a 18 y.o Extra Black. It's just too smoky for me. Same with Laphroaig, Caol Ila and most of them all, Ardbeg. I can do a dram or so to end off an evening. But I'm unable to have it as the one drink throughout.

With each passing month, the reservoir of knowledge about single malts builds up with more and more bottles sampled in not just a tasting portion. But well, we alcoholics kinda buy the whole bottle for ourselves. Not exactly to share because each of us will eventually pick our respective favorites after a couple of gentleman's pours.

The Man Loves Cake

This must be the sweetest thing anyone has done for the man! His bestie girlfriend baked him a cake for his birthday! Her husband, a dear friend to the man, decorated the cake too! The best part, the girlfriend instructed the servers in Mandarin (not that loudly, but not softly either) to bring out the cake for dessert. The man, who obviously didn't understand a single word, was completely clueless about the development of events. So when the servers brought out the cake, he was totally surprised!

Poor boy, he didn't get a cake this year, till this one. Well, not that I forgot, it's more of like, I didn't bother with it. (Plus it was Passover.) It was kinda the same way that I didn't bother with a cake for my birthday. The only cake and candle I blew out was when the girlfriend brought me to a yummy dinner at a quiet little restaurant at Chun Tin Road.

The cake is just the cutest one ever! The girlfriend alluded to his FarmVille addiction and love of cows while indulging him the favorite chocolate fudge cake. The man declared that he wanted all the animal-shaped candles to take home. They're now sitting in a row along the edge of the bathroom window ledge.

It was such a proper fudgy not-so-sweet chocolate cake. Woman, you've got the mix, texture and sweetness down pat. It rawks! We had half at dinner and brought the other half home, of which there isn't much left by tonight. The man's parents ate up huge slices. :p They love it. So do we! It's a race to the fridge!

Having A Chinese Dinner

We went out to dinner to welcome the friends who are home for a bit. Dinner was at Crystal Jade Golden Palace at Paragon, the one and only Crystal Jade outlet that I don't mind, and in actual fact, enjoy its food. To the kitchen's credit, the food has always been good each time we're there. I think it's because we terrorize them quite a bit.

When the man and I dine out on our own, we (or rather I) avoid Chinese food. But when invited out to dinner or dining in a group, we defer to the majority's preferences. Afterall, the soup and vegetables will be a hit (usually) at the various restaurants. Tonight, the winner goes to the fish maw soup. Beautiful. We also had a strip of pan-fried fish that tasted so crispy on the outside and moist and flavorful inside. But umm.....I didn't know what fish it was. Oops.

We had a really mellow bottle of Glenfiddich 30 y.o. Since it wasn't cask strength, I had it on the rocks, with just 3 cubes of ice. Complex, flavorful without being overpowering, this was a precious bottle which was an ideal accompaniment to the meal.

Half the table dissolved into laughter when the servers brought in the longevity buns (寿桃). The friends' dad is very sweet lah. He said besides having everyone around for dinner, the buns were a belated birthday nod to the man. The man has never gotten buns before for his birthday meal! He was very tickled! It's a sign of (his) age, I tell you. *snigger*