Caroline & Lymbyc Systym

My days are packed, and so are my nights. I've never seen my social calendar so active. It has suddenly come alive and is taking on an identity of its own. All those years at work, I gave priority to work commitments, and the social calendar took a backseat. Time was allocated to only the intimates and faeriefolk. Recently, I've got alot more time to shift around, and it's been really awesome. There're just so many things I could do or choose to take an interest in.

It's absolutely brilliant that KittyWu Records brought in Lymbyc Systym and Caroline for an evening at Home Club. The bunch of them also had great fun discovering the flavors and foods of Singapore, as well as exploring the rather great range of Indian cuisine and vegan options we have here. We need more of these indie bands to come through Singpaore rather than simply hosting the moolah-making machinery done by the other labels. Ticket prices are relative to the venue (S$500 for a ticket at Indoor Stadium...seriously?), but in that, we need production people to have integrity to make art, for art's sake. :( We shouldn't just be the suckers to pay and pay. The perennial chicken and egg question of 'eating air'. Ah well.

We saw Caroline way back in 2007. She's got a new album out now. Still sweet, if not a tad boring. :P I kinda like my music with some kind of edge and a little bit more layered. It was a nice set. Predictable, earnest and serious.

Lymbyc Systym, as the main act, provided the contrast in the music for the night with their instrumental rock and electronic sounds. Just 2 brothers, their sounds filled the room and left no empty spaces. They use samples, but they don't over-do it. Technology is exactly what it is. The humans control it. There isn't a sacrifice or compromise on the portion of song-writing. Happy sounds, I call it. Pop-ish at times, angry at some points and complex mostly, all good for head-bobbing.

It's Home Club. Limited options for the drinks. So it's either drink sparkling water, or an easy Nikka. I eyed that bottle of Nikka and decided that it wasn't worth the trouble. The friends were pretty happy alternating between beer and whisky. Not I. Beer and whisky don't match my head and stomach. So I took only one glass on the rocks, then stuck to water. All in all, this is what I call a good night out.

Nasi Lemak

After an impromptu bloody early morning run with the girlfriend and her 2 very fit dogs, of which I nearly died of exhaustion at the 5km completion point, it was off to Tekka Market for breakfast. My stomach actually growled. I'm NEVER running 5km EVER AGAIN. Sticking to 3km ALWAYS, if I absolutely have to.

We met with the other girlfriends who also decided to schedule their weekly grocery trip today. Naturally I'm the only one who doesn't need to buy groceries unless the man tasks me to grab some stuff. I just tag along for the company and the food. And today, I'm ravenous. Obviously.

The girlfriends eat either before or after their grocery shopping, depending on the mood. We love the awesome food at the food centre. Biryani, naan, thosai, curries, murtabak, appam, whatever spicy! Yummy. Sometimes we tapau the food to someone's home; if it isn't too crowded or stifling hot, we eat at the food centre. Today we opted to eat at Tekka Market after packing in the vegetables, meats and whatnots into the shopping trolleys. A rainy morning it was. Almost cool, with a breeze.

I like this little nasi lemak stall. I can never remember the name, but they do tasty dishes. Traditional flavors abound. I like mine simple- just fish, egg, begedil, anchovies and a slightly sweet-ish sambal. I always ask the the smiley husband-and-wife stall owners to halve my rice, and they never do! I can't finish it, and the Uncle keeps telling me to finish my food. Grrrrrr. Today, they still refused to give me just a small scoop of rice. They whacked on the usual 3 scoops. But...I finished everything. The Uncle took one look at my rather clean plate, "Wah. You very hungry today izzit?" I gave him a cheerful grin. Yah lor, ah-but-then.

Their Stories

It's been sitting quietly on the bookshelf. I finally got around to reading Ceriph Issue 3. In the Editor's Note, it is said that Issue 3 pays tribute to the Singaporean's past-time of 'makan', and how it has influenced many Singapore writers in a not-too-odd sort of cultural referencing.

This little book is a tasty morsel in its varied offerings of the different genres of writing. What enthralls me is the window to the thoughts of Singapore writers. It tells me of their experiences and I could perhaps compare it to mine. This is such a small island. We should have similar experiences, but no, life treats us all differently. And through these stories and interpretation, we learn of differences and opportunities that are abound on this island, not all heartbreaking or painful.

Issue 3 closes with the last story by Adrianna Tan- A Drinkable History of My Family. It's peppered with sharp humor and insights. Split into little chapters titled differently, the ending of Bubble Tea about her ah gong's (grandfather) passing. is a little sad, but reflecting the reality of life. The final paragraphs read,

"We searched everywhere for bubble tea, we really did, but did not search fast enough. He could not wait. // And then Michael Jackson died the next day and the whole world forgot about the man who had never had bubble tea. // Sometimes I wish could have been there when he finally gave up on life and on bubble tea. He would have ranted, in Teochew, that tea isn't meant to be this milky, and what the hell are these bloody balls?"

Littered With Books

While I still browse at Kinokuniya for its wide range of titles, I buy less from them and more from an independent bookshop just because the latter is prettier and I'm more inclined to spend time there, linger and soak in the literary vibes.

If the independent bookstores don't carry the titles I want, I use Book Depository and often, I turn to Amazon for e-books. But I still can't quash the need for instant gratification by buying books here and NOW! I can't get rid of the habit of buying books weekly.

Part of the afternoon with the friends was spent at Littered with Books. Lovely. This is what a bookshop should feel like. Surrounded by books and cosy colors, it's so inviting to just thumb through the pages of books that caught my eye. Wondering about the contents and how it would feel to read it and the sort of thoughts and emotions it would evoke, is just awesome.

This bookshops carries a small but pretty alright selection of children's books along with some beautiful illustrations by a number of talented illustrators. I'm not too sure about pricing though. Some friends have commented on the higher-than-average pricing. But for the non-children books, I'm okay with the stated prices. It's not a significant difference. Should they charge a little higher, I'm more than happy to pay because it means the business could sustain in the long-term. I just don't like contributing to the faceless chain stores for mega profits.

Today, I walked into the bookshop in anticipation of the titles that might interest the mind, and I strolled out a very happy customer with 2 paperbacks. Hey, at least I didn't buy the other 3 that were really fairly intriguing. Maybe next week. :D

PS: Is there something about books and cats? Of late, they seem to go hand in hand.

An Afternoon Outing

I was secretly glad that the girlfriend ditched her vintage top and went for a cool mustard yellow jumpsuit. It's a look she hasn't tried before and she's always been wary of pants. She thinks pants would make her look fat. Hey, not if it's a good cut! This particular jumpsuit fits her very well. You should see her full length shots. She looks great in it. All those wonderful photos are in her camera and she'll probably share those later on her blog.

The girlfriend invited me along as her + 1 to an event. We're considerably older than everyone else, so there was no need for us to try so hard to look like we've to fit in. We can't even get into those miniscule pieces of fabric the other girls wore. Since the bruises have faded and there won't be fresh ones till next week, I put aside the usual blacks and pulled on a colorful dress. Colors doth exist in the wardrobe. It's just that each time I pick out a dress, I gravitate towards black. Bleah. So we went to this event where one could be togged out in casual, dressy or whatever. I wanted to wear Havaianas, then decided that since the girlfriend was properly groomed, I shouldn't be embarrassing to wear flip flops all the time. So a pair of heels it was to be.

It was the girlfriend's event. So while she flitted around fulfilling commitments and being busy, I was happy to concentrate on being good as gold. It was very hard work. "Behave, impie, behave," I sternly told myself. I did- sat in a corner to quietly sip sparkling water, didn't schmooze, frowned at offensive portions in a painful skit, sniggered a little (it wasn't at all my scene), laughed really hard along with the pretty good emcee and didn't throw a siew mai at anyone.

Bread & Cheese

The girlfriend is in town for a short visit and had her husband pack a block of heavy cheese into his luggage for us. So the precious package I picked up the other night is the Eke Geitost (or Eke Gjetost) from Tine, and a prized homemade loaf of dense beer-spiced raisin bread that smelt heavenly. "Best eaten fresh," she instructed.

In honor of the girlfriend's gifts, we decided to have bread and cheese with soup for dinner. These gifts would be best complemented with additional flavors. The man would be stuck in the office till 9pm, so it was up to me to prep the food. Clearly, I wasn't going to cook. So take-out it had to be. In addition to these, I bought a wedge of Gruyère, another loaf of pumpkin bread, pâté, a tub of basil pesto hummus, 2 soups of curried pumpkin and wild mushroom.

Eke Gjetost is a firm, nutty and almost sweet brown cheese made from goat's milk. It's got a slight caramel hint that suggests people eat this at breakfast. Anyway, we ate it at dinner! It went beautifully with both loaves of bread. Awesome. The extra items only lent the excitement to the tasting. The focus was the beer-spiced raisin bread. So everything should complement it, even the hummus. The soups were pretty good and gave a hearty note to the meal. We finished the pumpkin bread. It took alot of discipline not to gobble up the bread the girlfriend had made. We left a quarter to savor the next day. She has indeed made some tasty bread!

Light yet filling, it was an absolutely gorgeous dinner. The man was most pleased. Soup, cheese and bread. Totally right up my list of favorite meal items. LOVES. Tusen takk!! Now, we owe her and husband (and boys?) a dinner after they're back from vacation. The man's wondering about menu items and dates. Let me see how we should do this, or potluck over. Woooohooo.

Shipwrecked: Tang Treasures and Monsoon Winds

We debated long and hard whether to go to the The ArtScience Museum. It markets itself as a premier arts space for travelling exhibitions. It has no permanent exhibition of its own. Among the friends and I, we're just not very supportive of a museum that doesn't possess the soul of art. Doing it for the sake of appearances doesn't quite cut it.

I'm not too pleased with the S$30 adult admission fee, not when this museum is owned by a casino. One can argue that they run on separate accounts, but in reality, you and I know, it's not quite that. I've yet to criticize their 'single admission' policy which does not put children's needs into consideration. 2 mothers were trying their best to persuade museum staff to let them out to feed the children and be let back in after. But no. Each time you get out, you pay another S$30 to be re-admitted. Honestly, the blanket admission policy sucks. MBS can jolly well get its money from the casino to supplement the museum. That would draw it a truckload of goodwill. But no. It has chosen not to do that.

But curiosity won, so we went for the sole purpose of viewing Shipwrecked: Tang Treasures and Monsoon Winds. A Singapore government-linked company has bought the collection from a private salvage company. That itself, raises eyebrows. But you know what, Singapore is all about commercialism and capitalism. This collection is RIGHT AT HOME at The ArtScience Museum. Hey, nobody asked the taxpayers if we would like to spend USD$32 million to own these Tang treasures. (Not rightly so, as BeanBean has pointed out, but I'm just prejudiced.) The least this museum could do is to offer free admission to school children and to be greedier, Singaporeans. But no, charge everyone S$30 for admission. At least today we had a 20% off admission fees on an OCBC credit card and free parking for spending more than S$20 at MBS.

The Belitung shipwreck and its treasures. In spite of it being of the most important archeological finds of the century, the collection is embroiled in a fierce debate over supposed unprofessional and unethical retrieval of the wrecks which resulted in the Smithsonian Institution postponing the planned 2012 exhibition to perhaps 2013. The friends and I, we've our opinions on this matter. I leave you to form yours.

This bowl was fired in China's Hunan, Changsha kilns, circa 825-50. It's described as "glazed stoneware with underglaze iron-brown and copper-green pigments." Within the bowl, the potter (I assume, since the wordings aren't particularly poignant or poetic in the style of Tang poems) had inscribed, “孤鹰南天远，寒风切切惊，妾思江外客，早晚到边停。” The English translation of the poem is close, but indicated that it's a "lonely goose", which puzzles me. GOOSE? Yes, geese fly south. BUT..... I'm fairly sure that '鹰' means 'eagle'. Am I missing something....like a poetic affectation of sorts?

Also, many of the Chinese translations don't match the English version. When describing pachisi (parcheesi), randomly, they put into the Chinese description "印度". Nowhere in the English description contained the word "Indian". When it comes to translations and worse, to have to read them, I'm a purist.

I've alot of issues with the descriptions of the items. They're properly and accurately dated, of course. But the descriptions are weak, and vague. It's almost as though they rushed through the cataloguing and decided to put everything as 'big jar', 'medium jar', 'small bottle'. Otherwise it's 'big ewer', 'medium ewer', 'small ewer'. Seriously. There're some half-hearted attempts at trying to decipher what could have been the items meant for trade and what could been used for daily storage on board the ship. There're so many different types of birds drawn on the Changsha bowls and they're just generally identified as BIRDS. Right. There're many different kinds of birds you know. It's just a feeling that the treasures haven't received the right treatment from the professionals who know how to write an interesting, factual and informative lines for them.

There're plenty of beautiful art pieces on display. I'm happy to have a chance to admire them. A sizeable haul, I'd say. They don't just ooze history. They speak of a life back then, and bear witness to shipping routes and trading trends, habits and lifestyles of the society of the era. However, imho, I opine that the sociological and anthropological aspects of the wreck haven't been thoroughly analyzed. The videos and graphic displays have been done well and provide substantial information of trade routes in the 9th century. Attempts at audience interaction are obvious in a simple board game, cut-outs to take home, spot the patterns of ceramic ware, machines to emboss ceramic patterns, etc. It's a very good effort. More can be done, of course. But it's a good curation pertaining layout and display.

Still it's the ultimate irony. This collection belongs to ultimately, the Singapore government, and by virtue of the meritocracy that it pushes for, everyone, including Singaporeans will have to pay to view this collection. Why is this not hosted at the National Museum. Scheduling conflicts aside, if this is a collection we can be proud of, then it ought to be placed in our national heritage venues and be open to the public for a nominal sum of admission fees. It's quite stunning, yes. But the question of purchase, while legal, is dubitable, and methods of retrieval are now marred in deep controversy. It calls into question of not just why the (to the world) Singapore government has to acquire this collection (actually, it's not difficult to guess), it also makes the world question what Singapore views as historical and how sincere is the subsequent value placed on it, especially when it seems that we don't consider a host of other environmental and ethical issues, not much different from how we tear down buildings and clear land to build new ones in the name of shiny progressive urban development.

Van Gogh Alive

They could have titled this better, really. No physical paintings. Presented by the Grande Exhibitions and VisionsCom, "Van Gogh Alive - The Exhibition" is a "fusion of art and audio-visual technology, showcasing more than 3000 Van Gogh images to tell his story" by projecting it onto the spaces.

The signs outside the entrance stated 'no photography'. I was disrespectful and sneaked a shot anyway. It's a little lame, but okay, it's kinda interesting. But I got bored pretty soon. The gallery doesn't quite make me want to linger. The accompanying music is someone else's interpretation of how it would complement each art piece. The end result, I feel, is disjointed. Too many things going on. Perhaps it's intended to mimic Van Gogh's tortured mental state before his eventual death.

I like staring at paintings, not projections. The combination of music, space and wooden floor made me feel like waltzing through the spaces. Which I did, and made the girlfriend's eyes roll. A solo Japanese-butoh performance by Kae Ishimoto is planned for September where she'll dance a contemporary interpretation of 'The Courtesan (after Eisen)'. That would be rather interesting.

Dalí: Mind Of A Genius

Honestly, we had earlier wanted to view the widely touted largest collection of Dalí ever exhibited in Singapore. But we were not moved till today, powered by the sole inclination to see where our supposed tax dollars (if any) went into.

As promised, Dalí: Mind of A Genius is a breathtaking exhibition of 250 pieces of his work with the central themes of Femininity and Sensuality, Religion and Mythology, and Dreams and Fantasy. While I admire Dalí's whimsical works of surrealistic art, I'm not a huge fan. I can only admire his works on a superficial level, while the friends could go on and on about his (in)sanity within the compositions.

Who can forget the dream sequence in Alfred Hitchcock's Spellbound? I wasn't quite into the show, but Dalí's designs are still cool today. Spellbound is put up as a painting in this exhibition, a very different treatment from what I saw at Tate Modern a couple of years ago where the dream sequence was looped.

It was a quite a mesmerizing stroll through the sculptures and paintings. I'll honestly say that this exhibition alone is worth the S$30 admission fees, not that much different from what the Met charges, except that New York City owns the museum and contributes to its upkeep, aside from private donations. A fine line there. Some might say, a very clear line.

We'd have lingered longer, except we were freezing just a little in the strong air-conditioning. They really didn't have to put it so cold. The museum isn't linked to the shoppes at MBS. Stepping out of the 18 degrees celsius air-conditioning into the strong blazing humidity is quite a jolt to the body. For some, it guarantees an instant headache.

Owls Of The Swamp At TAB

We watched Pete Uhlenbruch strum lilting melodies of dream folk. It's not as if I've heard of him prior. I did some quick googling this afternoon to check him out. Australia and New Zealand (with full government support) are both aggressively promoting their indie artists overseas. So many are passing through Singapore on their way to Europe and America. The musician we're fortunate to hear tonight is doing exactly that- stopping by at TAB for an evening.

To round up the first set, Pete did quite a lovely cover of Iron and Wine's Naked As We Came. I was all dreamy by then. Perhaps some day, our government funding agencies will see the true value of our talented Singapore bands who have been selected to play on the exhilarating stage of South by Southwest. That's the ultimate international newbie indie recognition, the equivalent of jazz and classical festivals of Montreal Jazz, Ojai, Kuhmo, Aldeburgh, Lake District Summer Music, Bregenz, Verbier, Lucerne and Schwarzenberg. I'm not even talking about Glastonbury, Coachella or Big Day Out, yet.

We can boast of a beautiful Esplanade Theatre and Concert Hall to rival the best venues in the world. Perhaps one day soon, our line-up and fringe events for Baybeats will be the foci of Asian indie bands, unless Jakarta gets there first. The city's already neck-to-neck with us in terms of having notable artists stop over in the city, and a little more ahead in terms of rock and indie music festivals. Yes, I'm still sore that Ben Folds went to Jakarta in June, and not here.

Stories Nearer Home

I probably read more foreign writers than Singaporeans, probably because of the nature of the latter's material. I can identify with some, I disagree with the others, and often, I don't want to be reminded of themes and topics that I rail against as a teenager, and as an adult. Still, I pick up many titles by Singapore writers because, they are good. Prose, poetry and drama form my favorites.

Reading plays requires a greater concentration than usual. Reading a volume of plays results in separating them into 2 sittings simply because I need the breadth of imagination to flesh out those words into a virtual play. 'In the Company of Heroes' is Verena Tay's second volume of plays featuring 3 main plays of The Car, The Lunar Interviews and Bumiputra Cina. Then there're 4 more others in the volume, Right and Left, One More Chance, Queen Sophia and That Dog Buster and Imperfect Family Recipes. Verena's writing style has evolved since her first volume of plays titled "In The Company of Women". In this second volume, the writer tries to brings out the multiple everyday heroes in the characters that most of us would be able to identify with.

I didn't read Verena's semi-autobiographical The Car then, but watched it a couple of years back when it was brought to life on stage, directed by Samantha Scott-Blackhall. Today, skipping through the pages, I'm reminded of the emotions it could still stir as we recall incidents when we were young and pushed boundaries and tested our parents' limits. Did I regret some of those actions? Naaah. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

I had (and still have) a very warped idea of Chinese mythology. The mythical figures are confusing and come in various configurations bent to suit the requirements of each scriptwriter, actor, etc. While I've a pretty clear picture of historical origins, the evolution floors me. The Lunar Interviews were utterly confusing. I confess I didn't like it very much. Till today, I can't seem to get beyond the surface storytelling to look at the themes. An excerpt,

"Urrrggghhh! What did I do to deserve such a fate? It was all The Pig's fault! Me grow old and ugly in this backwater, surrounded by idiots? No way! Not if I could help it."

Imperfect Family Recipes is just depressing. I work with old folks and sometimes, their families. I can compartmentalize the related emotions quite well. But I prefer not to be immersed in it all week. So even reading a short play about it made the thought of "I don't need to see this" zoom across the mind's eye. Before the page is turned, I could already predict the next few lines. Ah well.

I really enjoyed Right and Left. It's hilarious. The play comprises of the conversation between the right foot and the left foot. Set in a gym and present time, Verena stated that the plot was "inspired by [my] her efforts to get fit and lose weight." The interpretation of the play is entirely up to the reader. You could take it any way you prefer. Rather lighthearted, no matter how.

The Little Girl Who Was Little Miss Contrary

Today I met Bubbles who turned into a Little Miss Contrary who bordered on tantrum-throwing. No pasta, she stated. Biscuits only. The pasta her Mommy had painstakingly cooked remained untouched. Poor worried Mommy.

A nap and hugs from the plushies put Little Miss Contrary in a better mood. Still, no pasta, she said. Yoghurt only. Then Auntie Imp scooped her pasta and licked the spoon clean. I did plan to eat it all. There was a little frown. Okay, I eat pasta now, she decided. Ha! Mommy smiled at her. Mommy's smiling, she said. Yes, keep Mommy smiling, I made a face at her.

The usual seedless grapes with skin appeared. Little Miss Contrary has always eaten the skin. I don't want skin. I don't want grapes, she said. Auntie Imp popped a grape into the mouth. Skin is good, Mommy said. She was unmoved. I sighed and peeled a grape. She deigned to eat that. Then another, and another. I peeled all the grapes in the bowl. She ate them all up. Grrrrr. I think I've set a bad precedent. Now her Mommy has got to peel her grapes....oops. Sorry, Corsage!

I want to wear my Crocs, she demanded. The shoes are too big, you won't be able to walk. Mommy said. I can walk! She insisted. She toddled to the car and to the lift lobby of destination, flapping about in her slightly-bigger-than-feet Mary-Janes. Then she grinned at me. Auntie Imp, 抱抱! She wheedled. SIGH. OKAAAY, CHEEKY MONKEY.

Little Miss Contrary is quite contrary indeed.

Chwee Kueh Chwee Kueh I Love You

[After the renovation of the Bedok food center in 2016, the chwee kueh kinda sucks now. The topping and chilli tasted so different.]

The puny sticks provided by most chwee kueh stalls are simply impossible to be of any real use. Each time I stab at the food, it runs away. Or perhaps I should say that my 'chopsticks skills' aren't good enough to pick up slippery steamed rice cake and the tiny pieces of preserved radish.

Now, aside from the chwee kueh, people usually order other food items, resulting in practical cutlery that comes along with them. So a proper spoon and fork could be utilized for the chwee kueh as well. However, when I come to the sprawling food centre next to the Bedok Bus Interchange and MRT station, I only eat the chwee kueh and nothing else. It's a meal for me. 6 to 10 pieces provide enough carbs and calories at either lunch or dinner. Having had enough of being frustrated by teeny sticks, I've started to bring my cutlery here. The usual silverware if I'm not heading out elsewhere after. Disposables will have to do for the other times.

It's very odd that I keep coming back here for its chwee kueh. It's almost like an obsession. Some will rave about how tender the steamed rice cake is.....okay....but I don't really care about that. Somehow, to the tastebuds, no other stalls can replicate the Bedok stall's peculiar mix of flavors in the preserved radish and spiciness of the chilli. It's just...special.

On a cool rainy day, I merrily took a long bus ride across the island to the east just to satisfy a craving. The girlfriend indulged me and sat down for an over-salted lunch of the familiar taste of preserved radish and chilli. Me likey.

A Morning Run

A glass of apple juice and a banana, then it was off to the Botanics for an early morning run with the girlfriend and her 2 big dogs.

I haven't owned a pair of running shoes for years. Neither have I run in almost 2 decades since I was 15. Those school mainstream PE classes were boring and stupid. I skipped all and got a permanent medical certificate to excuse myself from all physical activities in school all the way through junior college. Best. While I carried on with my other more fun external options like figure skating and gymnastics. HA.

Parkour made me realize that I'm seriously weak in my running. Executing the jumps isn't difficult, but I lack the pick-up and sometimes, the height because the fitness level for the speed doesn't seem to be there. I probably need to do short spurts weekly. Nothing marathon-y. Just a 3km to 5km puke-all-collapse-after on a weekly basis for 3 months should suffice. I don't like running very much.

Girlfriend runs in Vibrams. I did too. Muzzled, the dogs clearly liked running and definitely looked more enthusiastic about it than a poker-faced me. Actually, they paced me all the way, but decided to sit with me when I stopped at the 3-km mark. My heart was ready to jump out of the ribcage. Burning. Thighs itched crazily. First run in decades, yo! The girlfriend couldn't convince me to run 5km. I was adamant that I would die from exhaustion.

3km is enough. 18 minutes 23 seconds. I think it's quite decent.

The dogs obviously didn't think the timing was that fabulous. I could have sworn that they grinned at my slow-poke pace. Faster faster, they seemed to have said when they ran alongside. Grrrrrrr. I guess they're pretty used to a 5-km run on a daily basis.

Then it was back to the girlfriend's house for a light breakfast of thosai and vadai, followed by a good brew of flat white.

New Vibrams!

I'm so pleased with my new Vibrams. The girlfriend bought a new pair in her usual size, wore it a couple times and realized that this new model is really too small for her. She couldn't return it and asked if I'd mind taking the pair if it fits. I was skeptical. It's a size 38. I'm a 37. But when I tried it, it's a perfect fit! This is quite a tiny cut. Girlfriend refused my offer of partial payment even. Boo. So I got a gift!

What an awesome present. My old pair was getting worn. I was just about to go get new ones when her offer came in. Best of all, her wearing stretched out the shoes so that I don't have to go through the pain. I could wear them immediately for a stint of jumping. Fit like gloves! Those leaps felt fantastic. I didn't clear new ones, but the usual jumps were smoothly executed without additional bruises at the end of the session. Parkour is best done wearing Vibrams for maximum flexibility. It makes me feel...invincible. :D

Hello new Vibrams, you and I, we're on the way to a great relationship.

Morning Stroll Along The Railway Line

We were in serious luck with the weather today. The steady drizzle stopped in time for us to begin our morning stroll along a portion of the now-defunct KTM Railway line running through the north to the south of the island. At 27°C at 8am, it was encouragingly cool. A breeze stirred strong. The humidity didn't get to us till much later when the sun decided to blast its merciless heat overhead.

There were plenty of walkers who took advantage of the morning cool as well. I was surprised to see people saying good morning as we passed. Naturally, we bade them a good day in return. It's an odd sort of friendliness atypical of Singaporeans. I'd proffer to label it as a strange sense of 'camaraderie' among the walkers.

It was with much adventurous bravado when we heeded the advice of 2 older (sane-looking) men who swore that the fruit from the wild flower at the side is edible. They even ate one! They said this was what they used to eat as kids as these plants were plentiful then. But they had to fight the birds to get to the sweet fruit. They advised that said fruit at this stage would be a little sour, and would be sweet when it ripens and turns yellow. So we tried too. Kekekkeke. After peeling away the green hairy bits, there's a round shell, and once we pried that open, the insides look exactly like a tiny version of pomegranate, with seeds inside, but green in color. It wasn't too sour. Almost refreshing. Well, clearly, we haven't been poisoned. :)

NB: Girlfriend has dug up the name of this plant from our fabulous National Parks data. It's Passiflora foetida L, otherwise known as Running Pop, Love-in-a-mist, Wild Water Lemon and (my fav!) Stinking Passionflower!

We didn't do the 'green' part of the route. We did an easy walk along the more urban portion from Commonwealth to Holland Road. As you can see, we didn't even bother with track shoes. Not a good idea really, but we did fine with Vibrams and sports sandals. We didn't even need mosquito repellent. Heh. However, we wouldn't advise this sort of footwear if you're doing the Sungei Kadut route where wetlands and plenty of green abound.

So much information has been gleaned from the fb group "We Support The Green Corridor" for the railway walk. Even more impressive is the unselfish sharing of the maps done up by CY Leong. Currently, there're 8 maps breaking up the railway line into sectors of short strolls with a per-sector average of 2km to 3km. We really appreciate the detailed information on the most accessible points of entry and exit along the route, as well as the photography points, flora and fauna to look out for. We even saw the mentioned roadkill that was there on 3 July when CY Leong did that map! The remains are still plastered on the tracks today.

I'm most pleased that the train has finally stopped in Singapore. I've never taken this train to Malaysia at all. While I understand the history and heritage it represents, to me, there's no nostalgia to reminisce about. It has always been a sore point between our governments, and frankly, I was relieved and happy to note that the long-standing dispute has reached a compromise, but am a little skeptical about its eventual resolution in the land parcel swap.

Good to know that the main building of the Tanjong Pagar Railway Station will be kept as a heritage building. It's beautiful, and we need more of these buildings around instead of another souless glass and concrete urban monolith. Pieces of the railway tracks will be torn up in the name of re-development. That's fine. But what I'd like to see, is some semblance of sanity in the mad push for cosmopolitanism. I'd like to see portions of the railway track preserved as a green corridor.

An Egg For Afternoon Tea

The girlfriend boiled 2 eggs for tea. One for her daughter and one for me. Heeeee. My egg decided to misbehave. It came out drooling. Whatever. It still tasted fine. I like my eggs in any form, raw, cooked, plain or otherwise.

This little girl is clearly not afraid of me. She calls me 'Auntie Imp' quite loudly and obediently slips her little hand into mine. Hearing happy gurgles from the little girl makes me merry.

Since I was an awkward, grouchy 12-year old, I've always known I don't ever want a fairytale wedding or children of my own. Now that I'm clearly able- physically, financially and with a 'married' status in this country, and with plenty of leisure time without the pressure of having to maintain a full-time employment, I make a conscious choice not to have children. I really don't see how my life can be fulfilled with a child of my own. Conforming, is not my middle name. This is not a responsibility I want.

Increasingly, as more friends begin to have children, the more acute and intense is the awareness that this is not my choice. I sought to date men who were able to stand up to family pressure and social norms in saying no to having offspring. Oddly, those men were quite a rarity to cross my path. Each time an ex wanted more from me, I dumped them like hot potatoes. Hehehhe. This man whom I'm legally tied to, thankfully, doesn't view children as a natural progression or a must-have in our lives. We'd really like a kitten though.

Maternal instincts? The ticking of biological clock? Social pressure? No, no and a screw-you-no. Not for me. I enjoy seeing the friends' little tots from time to time and interacting with them, watching them grow. Not all children take to me. Most are terrified of me. I don't like all younglings, mind you. Some can be quite off-putting. I like certain little tots who already have minds of their own and strong personalities to boot. Watching these familiar ones grow up, that's quite a pleasure all by itself. I'm quite pleased to remain as 'Auntie Imp' to my favorite little tots who don't mind my face just yet.

Memasak, Makan & Kawan-Kawan

Tonight's dinner was specially cooked to the theme of 'super low salt'. The man took it as a tiny challenge to produce a dinner that is low in sodium, and still be delicious. Since everybody just did their medical and had no issues with cholesterol, the taba ng talangka in the crab meat linguine wouldn't be a problem. Neither would loading lots of white wine and vodka into it affect anything. Heh. Lightly-seared scallops low in saturated fats provided the calcium, iron and protein to go with the rich pasta.

We decided to skip the soup and made an appetizer with white asparagus. The simplest way of just lightly boiling it and serving it with hollandaise sauce and poached eggs. We had plenty of good eggs, so instead of buying hollandaise sauce in a bottle, he opted to make it. The blender was utilized to churn out a smooth creamy sauce. He then stirred the saucepan to make perfectly poached eggs to go with the crunchy white asparagus.

We stood by various options of sea salt, pink salt and whatever salt for the rest of the food. On a whim, the man bought a pack puff pastry sheets to bake it over the Irish stew that had already been done a day earlier. He used a combination of beef and lamb. The end product was low on salt, but it had alot of body. Without the salt to overpower everything, the flavors were enhanced by Guinness. It was quite hilarious how everyone liked this low sodium version and nobody opted to sprinkle more salt over their individual portions. Stew went great with basmati rice.

Besides the company, the best part, the friends gifted us with a bottle of Hine Rare VSOP. It's a blend of eaux-de-vie with Grande and Petit Champagne. Quite a fine cognac, I must say. In spite of its spicy hints, it's quite fruity. Gentle too. The friends are hilarious- they were inspired by the 'Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon', of which they said, spotting this bottle of Hine Rare VSOP and the bottle of Bushmills were the 2 high points of the whole movie. Heheheh. The cognac was well complemented by these cans of Guinness which had been brewed in Dublin with a good head of foam. We love a tasty draught of Guinness, a bit of laughter and lots of love.

An Ode To Penguin

Spent a quiet hour wandering around the small space at An Ode to Penguin. If books fascinate you, this should be quite interesting to see the development and fashion of covers of Penguin books through the years.

The carpark in front of The Arts House is closed off because of the renovations going on at Victoria Theatre. One would have to park a little further and walk. If you're driving, the best place to park at is The Adelphi. Second choice would be at The Riverwalk or the public carpark across the building. We chose to go in the evening where we don't have to walk under the blazing sun, and to catch the guided tour at 6pm and a sharing event at 7pm.

We sat down for design artist (see Grey Projects) and photographer/curator/book collector Jason Wee's short sharing session on his favorite Penguin covers. These covers were done by illustrators and artists across disciplines like, Harland Miller, Jamie Shovlin, Duncan Hannah, Frances Stark and Simon Morley. Also shared were Jason's specific interest in design and architecture on a couple of books published by Penguin and he touched on the influence (partnership, rather) of Penguin on art in the form of Deyan Sudjic's 'The Edifice Complex' and Alain de Botton's 'The Architecture of Happiness'

There're human guides around to share with you the history of the covers on display. Very helpful. But if you prefer to be left alone, the notes on the clipboard in front of each huge board will explain the meaning behind those color-coded covers. There's always Google on hand (your cellphone) to help.

I was really attracted to the series of books about food over the last 400 years. The covers hold really attractive illustrations. The covers are designed by Coralie Bickford-Smith. The clipboard's note explained that "each cover draws on a decorative ceramic style relevant to the period of writing. Embossed lettering, calligraphy, spot varnish, and a shake of little penguin armed with knife and fork. Enjoy." These books are available for purchase at Books Actually, and not at the exhibition. I keep seeing the books around and have resisted them for the longest time. Now that they're listed as a series in their full glory, I'm sorely tempted to buy the whole series!

At The Ballet

Having been suitably nagged by the friends to catch the Nederlands Dans Theatre's (NDT) double-bill of 'Mémoires d’Oubliettes' and 'Sehnsucht', I did. After all, a cancelled vacation meant I've plenty of time freed up this month. I know how acclaimed the dance company is, but I've never really paid it very much attention. Contemporary works rarely get my interest. But some of the friends are really into it, and it's difficult not to be somewhat influenced. They've gifted me dvds of the company's ballets and those really made me decide to watch it if I get the chance to. It's very nice when world renowned performances make Singapore one of their stops in the Asia Pacific.

The dancing, is nothing less than sterling. It's superb. Oh the discipline is absolutely stunning! It's exhilarating to see the sort of control the dancers have over their bodies. Very inspiring. The set designs are pretty cool as well. Effort has gone into creating the set of the rotating room within a cube for 'Sehnsucht'. (Click here for the 2-minute video of the ballet.)

It's contemporary ballet in a brilliant form of surrealism. Trust me, I had many duhh moments while watching it. I don't profess to understand all of it, but I get what both are trying to say. The styles of Jirí Kylián and Paul Lightfoot and Sol León, are understandably different. However, I'm not familiar enough with their works to be able to make a good objective comment on a general scale. But yes, the new resident choreographers will take the NDT in a new direction.

I prefer 'Mémoires d’Oubliettes' over 'Sehnsucht' simply because the latter makes my brain work harder to try to link it to personal emotions and experiences. That's kinda enigmatic and purposefully inconclusive. I don't like that. Perhaps it's related to my current state of mind and what it identifies with at this stage of my life. 'Mémoires d’Oubliettes' is poignant as it explores the tenuous links between our memories and the state of being...of how we want to live this life, and how we want to be remembered, if at all.

Good To See Her Again!

I've not stepped into a Japanese restaurant in Singapore since the overdose in Tokyo. Now that the girlfriend's back in town for a little while and demands to satisfy her cravings for raw fish, it's the perfect reason to put Japanese food back on the regular menu again.

It was apt to have the meal at trusty Tatsuya. I realize that the stomach can't quite do a full omakase anymore. It's either just sushi and sashimi, or sushi and soup. Stomach space has shrunk. I don't need so much food anyway. So chiraishizushi today it was! The girlfriend's looking all fit and trim. She's on this weight loss zeal as well, and also to strengthen, lengthen and tone those muscles. Lovely to see that. While we've twitter, blogs and fb for the regular updates, nothing beats catching up in person. Social media platforms keep us in the know and we can cut straight to the specific topics happening in each other's life that we want to hear more of.

We could use a bit of walk after a heavy lunch. We finished all our rice! She was determined to grab a new pair of sunnies, and found a perfect pair within minutes, along with jewelry too. Kekekekeke. Each time she comes to Singapore, she's totally contributing to our retail sector's revenues. I like shopping with this woman. She's fast and focused! Awesome.

Before the outing ended, we sat down for a caffeine boost and tanked up on antioxidants. She hadn't tried the durian thingies from Goodwood Park Hotel and couldn't resist a durian eclair. I won't be able to tell if it's good since I don't quite take to durians. She used the Puteri Mas durian puffs as a yardstick. When the eclair came, I blinked at it. It was by no means a tiny eclair. It was slightly bigger than palm-size with this thick filling of mushed-up durian. Woah. Quite impressive. She pronounced the durian eclair from Goodwood Park Hotel pretty alright, and resisted tapau-ing a box home.

At The Auld Alliance

After an early dinner, it was a unanimous vote to spend a quiet evening at The Auld Alliance. It's a beautiful bar which always puts me in a mellow sort of mood. There're so few whisky bars in Singapore, and this is one that I like quite a fair bit.

We started light with the Bunnahabhain 18.y.o on the rocks. The food kinda needed to settle before I could sip the richer drams. Good to get the bit on work discussion out of the way before we ease into the business of chilling out for the evening.

At a later point, we moved on to the rich, leathery and creamy Tobermory 32 y.o for the rest of the evening. Beautiful distinct sherry nose and and an underlying almost cognac note to it. Lovely lovely dram. What a pity it's a limited expression and there aren't many opportunities to taste this bottle so freely! Tonight was indeed meant to be savored among good company. Oh, 3G connection isn't great in here. So stick to traditional text messages, or to be really safe, make that call.

When I finally retrieved the girlfriend's missed calls at 11.30pm, she left me with a cryptic math puzzle. ARRRGH. Use +/-* to get 24 from 7, 7, 3, 3. I was trying to figure it out when the friends asked me what I was so pre-occupied with. So I told them, and that was the end of loud laughter. The next couple of minutes was spent in silence punching calculators on the cell, and finally, grabbing memo pads to scribble. The brain-worm came at a really bad time when we were not in tip-top exam condition. It drove us crazy, and naturally, being very distracted at the bar led to us solving the puzzle only at the end of the hour. Table of auditors and lawyers, FAIL. Theoretically, it should only take us no more than 20 minutes to do this on a normal day WITHOUT this much alcohol in us. Heh.

Sing Other Songs, Baby!

It was a little disconcerting to step into Fullerton Hotel and run smack into a lobby-ful of black suits. We were about the only ones not dressed in corporate wear. I spied a table of Singaporeans and I know those looks so well. Many familiar faces from work back then. We had stepped right into 2 concurrent gahmen events. Heheheheh.

Anyway, we were there for coffee. Dainty cups of coffee were each served with a small square of kueh lapis. The little girl demanded cheesecake, and cheesecake she got. A huge slab. Thankfully, she didn't finish all of it. It left the adults something to munch on. The munchies that I really wanted weren't available till 5pm. Gaaah. We wanted to leave before the peak hour crush, and wasn't that hungry to hang around to wait for the rest of the food.

The mother was regaling us with tales of 'bad habits' picked up from school, and the little one gave us a wide obliging grin and sang, "Nobody nobody butchu", all of us facepalm-ed. I stared at her in absolute horror. What on earth are playschools teaching the kids? This is what they call music?? They teach 2.5 year olds these sort of songs?!!! I most violently object! Arrrrrgh. What happened to good ole Sesame Street and Muppets?! I certainly have no wish for this girl to grow up thinking that the Fun Pack song rip-off for our National Day Parades is the epitome of creativity and musical taste.

The mother is slightly amazed at just how much the little girl can absorb from a week in school. We've decided that we need to educate the little girl.....for a start.....with songs from Dan Zanes and Friends' "Catch That Train", Belle & Sebastian's "Zoogloble" and They Might Be Giants' "Here Comes Science".

To See The Terracotta Warriors

On a random morning, I woke up to texts from the girlfriends asking what I was up to for the day. Clearly, they woke up earlier than I did. As luck would have it, we were all VERY free after 2.30pm. Best. An impromptu date we made.

On a hot day, we decided to go to the Asian Civilisations Museum (ACM) for its current special exhibition of "Terracotta Warriors: The First Emperor and His Legacy". We figured that there wouldn't be that many humans thronging the corridors on a weekday. Aside from a big group of 20 people or so following a really passionate volunteer guide through the display, there wasn't a big crowd. It was relatively painless for the girlfriend to push her sleeping daughter around in the stroller.

Most annoying that iPhone apps ruled. For us who don't hold iPhones, we clearly don't get to play with the app that have been specially programmed for the exhibition. NOT FAIR. If you're not offering an iPod Touch on loan for visitors, it's almost discriminatory to only issue apps for the iPhone. It isn't as if Apple is sponsoring any part of this exhibition yo. We didn't manage to experience the scope of the interaction that lilsnooze managed to do on an iPhone. Never mind, seeing the exhibits was still pretty cool.

Perhaps it's my current state of mind, or rather, focus. But I was more intrigued by the other objects from the era, and the later Han Dynasty. I particularly like a tiny funerary piece found in Xi'an dating from the Western Han period titled "Acrobats", sculpted in earthenware. The paints on the piece have faded, but the mastery of the artist has lived on for all to see. It's not exactly exquisite by modern standards, but given the techniques of the era, it's a fine creation that depicts the strength and grace of the acrobats frozen in a move that is still familiar.

Key (Tahiti) Lime Pie

Over the weekend, the man zoomed off to Tekka Market and came back with about 70 huge Tahiti limes and painstakingly squeezed about 3 litres of fresh lime juice. Oh man, that lime juice is sourly potent. Just a little bit of it and it's enough for a zesty drink. This lime juice can keep for a week in the fridge.

We can have lime sodas (iterally how the Vietnamese do soda chanh) all day of course. But the whole point of the exercise, is to make mojitos with a complex 12y.o Angostura 1824. Mojitos taste best when made with quality ingredients, and dark rum. It's very nice to get royally drunk on good mojitos that few bars could reproduce.

We had so much lime juice that we had to share. We handed over a litre of concentrated juice to the dessert angel to do whatever she wants with it. And also to feed tons of antioxidants to the family. However, the woman sneakily baked us a key (Tahiti) lime pie and sent it over to the house when we weren't home! Tsk! Naughty naughty. The juice is meant for her! And not meant for her to 'process' and return to us in the form of a pie!

It's a beautiful pie. I can taste the lime! Woaaaah. And the sour properties definitely tempted the dessert angel to plonk in the sugar. It's ummm......so sweet that I only had 3 bites and I bounced off the walls. Those 3 bites had to be tempered with sour berries. The man happily finished the rest. There's only half a pie left...

Next time, I'll find you incredibly crunchy Granny Smith cooking apples and send you a whole crate. *cackles*

In Their Own World

In many weird ways, Shirley Jackson's works, especially "The Lottery", have imbued a silly fear of small towns where a different, scarier world exists. Where people see pastoral beauty, I see danger and psychosis. In many ways, this probably contributed in some obscure way to my adult preference of apartments over houses.

When I first read "The Haunting of Hill House", it thrilled me for an afternoon alone at home when it was conveniently dark and stormy. I was hoping for real monsters, but clearly, it was inelegant (then) to write of the horror tangibly. So it was alot of suspense and in the end, I concluded that the house itself was the demon. So it was left to me to decide why Eleanor died in the way she did. A slightly more cheerful and optimistic piece of work is her children's book "Nine Magic Wishes" that's illustrated by her son, and speak of sunflowers, wishes, and wizards.

I've watched the theatre adaptation of Shirley Jackson's final piece of published work before her death in 1965. On stage, it's chilling. I'm not fond of the version as a musical or its 2 adaptations on film. They don't quite give out the right vibe. Then, I'm not fond of musicals generally. However, I've never read the original work in earnest. I made quick flips then, under 20 minutes; not quite enough to suss out deeper nuances between the lines.

"We Have Always Lived In The Castle" is an almost intriguing little story, not of who killed them, and why, but it leaves you wondering 'what for'. Then you're pulled into the world of Merricat and Constance, and towards the end, it will be your choice to either stay with them, or condemn their actions like all the other villagers.

It draws on the agoraphobia of Shirley Jackson, and her perception of small towns and how the inhabitants dictate social norms. I suppose one could also lump it as Gothic fiction in the archetypes, although this one is missing the clowns, the stupid servant and the clergy.

"These things were always left on the front doorstep, always silently and in the evenings. We thought that the men came home from work and the women had the baskets ready for them to carry over; perhaps they came in darkness not to be recognized, as though each of them wanted to hide from the others, and bringing us food was somehow a shameful thing to do in public. There were many women cooking, Constance said. "Here is one," she explained to me once, tasting a bean, "who uses ketchup, and too much of it; and the last one used more molasses." Once or twice there was a note in the basket: "This is for the dishes," or "We apologize about the curtains," or "Sorry for your harp." We always set the baskets back where we had found them, and never opened the front door until it was completely dark and we were sure that no one was near. I always checked carefully afterwards to make certain that the front door was locked."

Penguin Love

Penguin features largely in my childhood, and even as an adult. Penguin classics, they call it. I didn't intentionally buy them. The parents, the aunts and the adults bought me books month after month and year after year. Nobody says no when I say I want to buy books. They shove money in my tiny hands and tell me to buy all that I want. To their credit, they didn't roll eyes when I came back with awesome prints of graphic novels (Like M.A.S.K.). Hahaha. But mostly, I came back with fiction novels.

I've always associated Penguin publications with serious literature and reading. I keep forgetting that they do science fiction and horror too. I've moved apartments so many times in my life that the good books have gone into storage, and occasionally, I take them out to air. In the fine tradition of childhood tantrums, I've spectacularly flung chairs against the wall, and dramatically shatter vases against cabinets, but never have I thought to tear pages out of my books. Those are my precious things.

At home, we've carefully stored the leatherbound antique classics and favorites which have been hunted down during overseas jaunts. Boutique stores, dingy shops, collectors' clubs, fancy bookshops and all alike, I burrow in them and sieve through their wares. I could farm this out to someone else to do it, but it's a job I'd like to personally tend to. Familiarity with the trade means I can make a call on bulk purchases. There's something awfully fascinating and attractive about bookshops, especially the dark dingy ones.

These books aren't just meant for display in the library. It's also meant for keeps, and sentimental value. I'm very anal about the way I handle books- no dog-ears, no opening them at more than a 60-degree angle, no dirty hands, etc. Luckily among the friends and I, we practise sanitary book-reading habits, and have grown to have no issues with sharing books among one another.

I can't wait to peek at more books at "An Ode to Penguin" happening this weekend till 16 July at The Arts House.

Steamboat At Wah Lok

After a rather satisfying happy dinner at Gunther's last night to end the streak of bad eateries for the weekend, I wasn't interested in having any more mega meals today besides orange juice, muesli and a banana. Mid-day, a light swim of just 12 laps front crawl helped to ease the bloated feeling.

But I was convinced to have steamboat for dinner at Wah Lok. Me like steamboat at Wah Lok because I don't even have to lift a finger to cook the raw ingredients. Muahahahhaha. The server will do everything for us- pour raw stuff into pot, stir and stir, put the cooked items in our bowls, and we just.....eat. The steamboat isn't exactly on the menu. Just ask for it and order off the top of your head for the regular items. But they don't do fish glue or plain fishballs. Hmmmmph. If you don't want chicken or pork stock as a soup base, tell them at least a day in advance and they'll use vegetable stock.

I did frown at one item- the lobster. They ran out of Australian lobster and served us local lobster instead, WITHOUT telling us. They must be mad. Only Australian lobster will do for steamboat because it's sweeter. The local lobster possesses too muddy flavors for steamboat, and is more suited for stir-fry or added to some other cooked dish! The family eats at Wah Lok weekly and the servers know we've always ordered Australian lobster. But I didn't lose my temper at them because I was too slow to catch the different colored meat of this lobster. When I did notice, it was too late, they had already dumped the head and the roe in the soup. But when we mentioned it, they knew it was a booboo on their part.

No matter. The rest of the food was good, and it made for a filling and healthy dinner. They also saved me a plump Scottish bamboo clam without me asking for it. They know I can't resist that at this restaurant. When the flame was switched off, the soup in the pot was filled with rich aromas from all the ingredients. Kinda nice. Of course they gave me all the raw, freshly chopped garlic I wanted. Heavenly. Oh dear kitchen gods, this is a good start, do continue- please let my meals for the coming week not suck so bad.

Move It With Tai Chi!

It was one of the rare Saturdays when I pulled out of the roster to sleep in. One of my old folks called me up. She asked in Cantonese, "Why did you skip tai-chi this morning?"

Bleary-eyed, I yawned and replied her in the dialect. "I got backache leh. Too much exercise during the week already."

She tsk-ed at me and repeated my answer to others in the background. Then she came back on the line. "So young already backache. Next time how? Work that time say backache. Now not working also backache. Aiyoh. You not young anymore okay. Getting old already! You better turn up for tai chi next week hor." Now wide awake, I hadn't even finished saying "Orrrh" and she hung up.

I flipped around in the bed and scowled at the bears nonchalantly strewn across the covers. My oldies. They win.

But I really got backache lah! Muscle aches aplenty this weekend. The exercise regime is too intense. I might have to cut back a little. I'm on daily workouts of pilates, boxing and swimming. Pilates and boxing are high impact workouts designed to leave me drenched in perspiration. Swimming a couple of laps is the default stretch and relax thingy done at least thrice a week. When I added a mere hour of pole to it, I kena muscle aches in odd places and a huge patch of bruise above the tailbone. ARRRRGH.

I'm thinking of a shift of roster to the weekdays instead. So I've been doing a fair bit of it on the weekdays already, just to test out the new routine. But Saturdays seem special, somehow, because it's been going on for years. Although I really really really dread the 7am tai-chi sessions.

Pole

Finally I've time and the leisure to check out the buzz about pole. I don't treat it like dance though. I don't feel anything for it. I suck at bellydancing and salsa. Pole isn't likely going to make me love it. I had a bit of a shock at the club lighting of the studio. Too used to the bright airy cheerful pilates studio. But I like the idea of a physical challenge. The uneven parallel bars have always been my favorite in gym class. I dislike the balance beam because I keep falling off. So in pole class, I treat it exactly like another apparatus.

Off the girlfriend and I went to pole class on a weekday afternoon. She's the best! Game for a new experience, she's such a fun pole partner! "Feel hot and sexy!" The instructed repeated. Ummm.....no! I want to feel lithe and fit, not smoldering exotic! I bet you she has probably decided that this student cannot dance for shits. Wahahahahah. The music they use for mass classes ah....can die. I'm fitting out the iPod for the lessons so that I get to move to what I like, not senseless R & B or hip hop monotony. Very difficult to count those dooofdoof beats when I'm not feeling them.

I totally ignore wearing stripper platforms. Nobody in the world can convince me to wear them. Those ought to be classified as some kind of lethal weapon. I've a phobia of being impaled on them. It was the singular thing that put me off trying out pole for the longest time. I can deal with bruises. Spectacular bruises are breathtaking. But I will not deal with scratches or puncture wounds. I'll do pole class barefooted.

Learning the grips is important. I need to be really friendly with the pole. Once I get the 'how', I can lift myself into those poses. I need to work on the balance so as not to smash my face into the floor. Then I can work on beautifying those lines. However, until I complete my lessons, you're not going to see any sort of gravity-defying wowser pole stunts.