Alo Yoga Leggings!

New leggings! My first pair from Alo Yoga! I’ve been curious about it, but never got around to getting any item from the brand. I've been erm...pretty loyal to Lululemon, especially now that I keep finding very decent items on the sale rack.

The darling girlfriend bought me this pair of new leggings from Alo Yoga, and I loved it that she got it during the sale. I’d have hated for her to spend more money on it than necessary. Of course she would know my size and what sort of designs I’d pick. Hehehehe. She’s very clever.

Put the pair of new leggings through its paces. First wearing at pilates. No pinching, no strange slipping off of equipment, and not too warm. They held up great. I wouldn't wear this pair for HIIT or cardio classes though. It's a tad thick, so it's perfect for pilates and stretch classes, and to wear out for a short bit before or after. My leggings are often worn for at least half a day, so they need to be comfortable. I prefer them slightly loose. Not a fan of compression tights.

Grinned when people went ballistic over Honor Jones's comment in The New York Times titled 'Why Yoga Pants Are Bad for Women' published on February 17, 2018. They kinda rejected her statement that women wear yoga pants "because they are sexy". It's an op-ed, so the writer is entitled to her opinion. However, the writer ought to try doing a pincha or a scorpion with wide-legged thick sweatpants and see if she likes it. Or grunt through box jumps with sweatpants.

Sure, in winter, I'd pull sweatpants over leggings. But once I'm in the studio or the gym, it's all warm enough indoors with air-conditioning and heating. I live in the tropics where leggings are perfect in this heat and humidity while offering full coverage for the purposes of modesty. I'm not actually sure I find yoga pants sexy. LOL. I definitely pick fairly boring designs. Sweatpants are hugely impractical for burpees and uhhhh sweat. I mean, they're heavy, and after they absorb sweat, they're heavier. If you're changing out of said sweatpants after the exercise class, imagine how your gym bag would smell after. Eiooowwww.

Here are two paragraphs towards the end of Honor Jones's not too long NYT article that are the most controversial to a certain group of...women. Remember, it's an op-ed, designed for the newspaper's readers to increase interaction with the digital platform to raise their stats.

All of this turns working out from a healthy thing you might do twice a week into a Way of Life, where $120 leggings are more necessity than extravagance. Consider the way that these fancy exercise clothes have spread from the gym to the street, essentially outfitting women for every activity beyond white-collar work. Consider the way the step-counting Fitbit turns every errand into exercise. When yoga pants are the first thing grown women put on every morning, we can’t help absorbing the message that staying fit is our No. 1 purpose in life. 

Women can, of course, be fit and liberated. We may be able to conquer the world wearing spandex. But wouldn’t it be easier to do so in pants that don’t threaten to show every dimple and roll in every woman over 30?

That Beautiful Pomfret!

Went to the airport to pick up the dear friends when they swung in for the weekend. Their flight landed on time, and cleared immigrations in record time and collected their luggage smoothly, all before noon. So we easily made it to a 1pm lunch at Gd O'Times at Changi Village.

This is a restaurant the friends liked but never visited after that first time years ago because it was just too far out. Today's timing was perfect. They could judge for themselves how the kitchen and food now fare. We like this restaurant for its casual vibes. It gets a little...sanitary to be hanging out at hotels and malls all the time; occasionally we prefer casual makan spots with a little bit more greenery.

This was also the first time the man and I had lunch at Gd O'Times. Hahahaha. We've always come in the night for dinner. Parking is way easier at lunch time. The area isn't that crowded in the day. Almost missed the restaurant since we somehow didn't see the rather big signboard. We were confused by the brightness of the area in sunlight. The hungry tourists spotted it, and led us there. 😂

Said beautiful pomfret.

The restaurant offers the same menu at lunch, except some of the soups might not be available, depending on what the kitchen has on boil for the day. We had two kinds of soups- the tangy buah paya masak titek, and the more regular but delicious cabbage, hee peow and meatballs. The ayam buah keluak was a must, of course. We loved it. Ordered additional nuts and made sure the friends ate a few more nuts since they couldn't get it easily back home. However, the star today was that insanely fresh pomfret. Slathered with sambal belachan (that was more expectedly flavorful than spicy), it was fried and immediately brought out to us. The white meat was tender and firm.

Of course we made it to dessert. There were three dessert fiends at the table. Gd O'Times only served three choices of desserts that day, and only in the hot version and not cold bowls- pulot hitam, bubur terigu, bubur cha cha. They ordered all three to share, and ate them all. We rolled out of the door and down the road for some much needed caffeine to ward off the food coma.

Gd O'Times

5 Changi Village Road Singapore 500005

T: +65 6542 2382 (Closed on Wednesdays)
(Please call to reserve if you want a table indoors, and if you're specially going all the way there.)

‘This Is What Inequality Looks Like’

Was really not looking forward to reading sociologist Teo You Yenn’s ‘This Is What Inequality Looks Like’ (2017). It promised to be painful. And it was. However, ten pages in, I knew I share her project observations and essays’ perspectives, and still, it offers starkly different viewpoints. That was when I decided to read it very slowly. It’s definitely worth two reads and lots of thinking.

I intentionally carried this book around during the Lunar New Year weekend, to places where I was obligated to be at, (rather than happy to be at). The book was meant to be my talisman because I know precisely the kind of people I'd be meeting. And holding on to this wonderful book worked like a charm. Nobody ventured into conversation with me beyond essential greetings.

Organized into 11 little essays, the author shares her professional opinions, some nuggets from her field work, and her personal thoughts. In the preface, the author said, "In situating the lives and experiences of a group within the larger social context, the book is an ethnography of inequality rather than a catalog of poverty." It’s like a thesis, I suppose. Feel free to disagree with it. But there’re points, proof and pertinence, and loads of empirical findings. The book and its research are meant to raise questions within all of us.

Why in inequality and not just poverty? Contrary to popular discourses in Singapore, and other cases where inequality is widening, 'the poor' are not outside of systems, nor exceptions to dominant trends. Their circumstances are key components of shared social realities; their lives and livelihoods exist in direct relationship to those who are wealthier; their constraints reveal the logics of the of the broader social landscape and political economy.

'Work-Life Balance Should Not Be Class Privilege', 'I Want My Children Better Than Me' and 'Growing Up Without Class Protections' were tough for me to relate to. These sizable middle portions spoke about parenting, gender roles, women's dilemmas, childcare, children and aspirations, all of which are not relevant to me. The pure privilege of being able to make this choice isn't lost on me. These are, however, pertinent and fundamental to the society, which is made of families that adhere to the Singapore social construct and national narrative. The early childhood and primary school education are hot topics in any given year.

More generally, many Singaporeans take for granted that the system is merit-based and there are ample opportunities for everyone regardless of their family backgrounds. 

These perspectives are not wrong per se, but they are insufficiently precise. In their imprecision, they inadvertently slip into faulting low-income parents for the poor academic performance of their kids. The logic goes that if our systems are fair, then surely, they fail because parents are not doing that they should be doing. 

To understand why kids from low-income households do poorly in school, we would do well to understand what their lives at home are like. But we must also step back and state their lives within the broader social context. This includes trying to understand what material conditions are like for parents, what school experience are like for kids, and finally and least often done, what higher-income families are doing for their kids. It is when we do all this that we can have a more complete and accurate understanding of how kids from low-income families, within this system, are compelled to play a game they cannot win because someone else is setting the rules.

The first chapter in the book 'Step 1: Disrupt the Narrative' literally urges readers to do so. It assumes readers already think of 'them' versus 'us'. Living spaces are demarcated into 'poor', 'crime-ridden', 'at risk' or whatever. Poverty in Singapore is really not obvious if you don't quite know what to look for. Our city is so fixated on happy shiny things that we ignore everything else.

I tend to roll my eyes when people ask 'why do the lower-income households have such wonderful television sets.' It's a judgment of sorts, like 'If you're poor, aren't there better things to spend on than a television set?' NO. In lower-income households, the television set is everything to these families. Think harder about why the more privileged we are, the more we don't need to have a television set.

How does this narrative matter? When the two people listening to my talk brought up their 'hardships,' it is this narrative —so taken-for-granted it does not need uttering—that renders their experiences dignified rather than shameful. One can proudly talk about choosing to take cold showers because one knows that one is accepted to have climbed and arrived. One can recall bed bugs fondly rather than with shame because one is assured that one has moved up and is beyond those dark days of being poor. With the national narrative of miraculous progress serving as backdrop to their personal stories, these persons can lay claims to a kind of dignified triumph. 

Which then leaves us wondering: what about the dignity of those who have not been and are not mobile? What of those who have, within the structure of this narrative, stood still?

Oven-Baked Sole Fish

No more rich festive foods. LOL. I definitely over-ate, but not that bad since most of these meals are lovingly home-cooked and are low on salt and refined sugar. I made sure not to have more than one rich meal a day, and tried to schedule these meals for alternate days. I still keep to my light meals whenever possible.

Took a stroll to the wet market to see what fish was available for me to cook it for dinner. Some stalls are closed. But a few stalls selling fish were open, and had plenty of choices for customers. I was delighted to find a whole sole. Well, a flounder. Yay. That would be quite the perfect dinner. Requested for it be de-boned and sliced up into two fillets.

Bought cooking tomatoes and some vegetables. Those would go into a salsa marinade for fish. There were also wonderful cherry tomatoes on vine. Bought a whole bunch to eat raw. They would match the oven-baked fish nicely. Overdosing on tomatoes? Never. I'm more fond of raw tomatoes than cooked ones, unless it’s relish. The salsa marinade would be baked along with the fish, and I would only be interested in the fish.

Dinner prep was really quick, and fairly easy. The raw fish only required to be doused with salt and pepper, and laid out on a bed of coriander and spring onions. Sliced up the cooking tomatoes and vegetables to make the tomato salsa marinade. Drizzled it all over the fillets. Rolled them up separately in parchment paper. Shoved both fillets into the oven for about 28 minutes, and took them out. Unrolled the paper, poked at them and voilà, beautifully done. A light dinner most satisfying. #ImpieCooks2018

A Full Class Next, Maybe?

Made it to my co-teaching slot for POP Pilates. I was so nervous before the class. This was a class scheduled in the night at a late 8.20pm, and I was completely out of my bio-rhythm. Also, it's an unfamiliar studio since I've only stepped in like...once.

At the practice run a day before, I flubbed. 🤦🏻‍♀️ It was so frustrating. While I have the choreography down pat, the cues don't come naturally. When I messed up those verbal cues, I screwed up the steps. ARRRGH. The awesome instructor whom all of us would be co-teaching with had advised, "Listen to the music." So I did. She was absolutely right.

I had forgotten how much music could guide dance. POP Pilates, with music, is essentially dance. It's not just about me being good at it. It's about me telling people how and when to follow along to my movements. Needed to stop being fixated on getting the movement perfect. Cleared my mind of all doubts. So I listened to the music over and over and over, and allowed the body and its muscles to lead while I concentrated on learning the cues. It was just two tracks in a 45-minute class. No big deal. I got this. Gotta to stop thinking about proving myself or anything at all. I had nothing to lose.

Had to learn to open a class too. Yeah, in my paid work, I facilitate meetings, workshops and conferences all the time, but man, this is a totally different learning environment from what I've understood all my life. I have been to enough gym classes to know how it works. Closed my eyes and recalled my favorite gym instructors' cues, and adapted from there. I've never stood in front of a group to lead any sort of fitness exercises; certainly not at a gym that has members with fairly high expectations of instructors. I was so happy V was in class too. It helped to have a familiar face in the crowd, but I had to remind myself not to just smile in V's direction. Heh.

I suppose the best description for my co-teaching session is 'uneventful'. This same instructor saw me flail at practice (and probably regretted allowing me this co-teaching slot), was definitely relieved that I did much much better in the 'real world'. I hoped I didn't disappoint her. Well, the least I could do was to not embarrass her in a proper class! Let's see if I feel confident enough to lead a full 45-minute class soon.

Cutting Back On Alcohol

I enjoy my single malts, porters and stouts. I savored a lovely dram of this gorgeous 40-year-old in sherry cask from Tomintoul specially bottled for Quaich Bar. Distilled in 1977 and bottled in 2017, this bottle is at cask strength. One dram was enough.

I've consciously cut down on alcohol for a whole year and three months. My favorite bar definitely misses me. Haha. Well, I ain't giving it up, but alcohol is certainly not ingested in the way it used to be done. Has my social life suffered? Honestly? No. Friends who love me, will accept that. Acquaintances or friends whom I don't care about, won't be drinking loads with me either. There used to be this joke because I only see some people in the night when alcohol is present, and I've never met them in the day! Now, I see them at the gym or wherever else for coffee. Oof.

Sure, the spending on alcohol has drastically reduced and my bank account's pretty happy with that. I gotta admit that those numbers (spent at bars) that used to appear on my credit card statements were rather shocking. The greatest difference felt, is to my body. Pilates and gym classes effectively keep the desire for alcohol in check. Alcohol intake is limited to one pint of beer or one dram of whisky the night before a class. On many occasions, I opt for non-alcoholic options.

Putting aside food in this discussion only because I eat fairly clean, and the diet hasn't changed very much. Carbs are not avoided, just not eaten in huge quantities. With the huge decrease in alcohol consumption, and hence, unnecessary sugar, the body feels so much better. I feel stronger, cleaner and generally less sluggish.

Three Versions of Penang Assam Laksa

It was a strange week where meals on three consecutive days included Penang assam laksa commercially sold at the stalls. Assam laksa, Penang style or otherwise, isn't not my favorite thing, although I don’t mind it if it comes with ikan kembong or ikan pelata and low on the assam and hae ko (prawn paste).

Do you recall the assam laksa that the old GRUB Noodle Bar had? I loved that very much. It was a less pungent and rather elegant version. I haven't been able to find it replicated anywhere else since. Don't bother comparing with those cooked in home kitchens. Those are obviously the best, and possibly the most pungent. While I can recognize its fabulousity, there's a likelihood that I don't take to it because it's 'authentic'. Heh, preferences.

Bowl Number 1 at Centrepoint Mall.

Bowl Number 1

It began with a bowl at the little food court of Centrepoint mall. They branded the food court as ‘Let’s Eat!’. It’s in the area of the underpass to Orchard Central, across from Toastbox. There isn’t a stall name, beyond a sign stating ‘Penang Assam Laksa’ and ‘Penang Prawn Mee’. I didn’t know about it till the friends mentioned it, and said other friends told them about this stall.

I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the broth, in spite of the sardines used. Piquant enough. Those noodles were good! Even added half an egg to it. For S$5, the bowl was tiny, with even tinier bits of sardines, but it was an oddly delicious bowl for what seems to be a cookie-cutter stall in a foodcourt.

Bowl Number 2

Then I had a muddling vegetarian bowl from a shop in Fortune Center. It wasn’t horrible; it was sort of edible, but the cook didn’t know how to flavor it beyond using chilli and pineapples. The galangal and bunga kantan were missing. There were little onions and almost zero assam. The flavors were flat. The thick beehoon was probably the best part of it. It was extremely forgettable.

It must be very tough to create a vegetarian version of assam laksa. There's something about the fish that vegetables can't replace. Even if I could thicken the gravy, the insufficient flavors tend to make it taste one-dimensional. Didn’t know what I was thinking when I ordered it.

Bowl Number 2 at Fortune Center.

Bowl Number 3

Finally ordered the assam laksa from Jason Penang Cuisine (檳城小吃, #01-113) at ABC Brickworks Food Center. The stall has been around like... almost a decade and I never eaten there till this year. I didn't have the capacity to try its Penang char kway teow, which is said to be good. Next time. I'm picky about that too. It's not easy to re-create it.

Sardines were used in this bowl instead of mackerel. The gravy was pretty legit. Tangy and full flavored. The assam was heavy...it leaned towards the sour side. They put very little of the hae ko (prawn paste), which is fine for me, but others might want to pile it on.

Bowl Number 3 at ABC Brickworks Food Center.

Thinking About...Cats

I'm beginning to understand just how detached I need to be with regard to material items if I am to acquire a cat. Not that I don't know. I know that in theory; I grew up with cats and dogs in the house, but I haven't kept a pet in adulthood simply because I can’t commit to it. Interacting with the friends' cats are just that, fun, and nothing further. Helping to trap and sterilize community cats by keeping them for a few nights don't actually count. Now, I'm thinking about it, and seeing it through new perspectives in relation to my living environment.

When one thinks about adopting a cat (or two) in earnest, suddenly, one starts to see how unfriendly home fixtures and windows could be to cats, or how the cuties could scratch the heck out of a favorite leather or fabric chair. And to my mild amusement, I realized I could, happily compromise on furniture and furnishings in order to have a cat. My pet's safety and comfort will be paramount, not my sense of aesthetics. Well, I’ll still get to choose monochrome colors, but I don't get much say in terms of textures and structures. Since I won't be able to keep my ideal types of dogs in Singapore, cats would be an alternative. I might also just like cats over dogs that little bit more. 😄

Then there's the issue of commitment to older cats and those with disabilities. 12 and 14-year old cats require more care, and understanding. They get sick, incontinent and perhaps blind. You can't just euthanize them. I can deal with death and sickness, but I don't think I can deal with the decision of putting down an animal unless there're grievous injuries and the vet actually recommends it due to the gravity of the illness or debilitating extent of suffering. So I’m still stuck at this stage, pondering if my lifestyle could fit in a commitment of having a cat.

The friends' cat was so judging me.

Such Tasty Vegetarian Burgers!

The friends mentioned about hans im glück for its decent burgers, its convenient location in town, and importantly, its generous range of vegetarian and vegan burgers, and a thorough list of allergens. It's soooo rare to get decent vegetarian patties at the eateries in town. There're currently 11 vegetarian and vegan burgers on the menu. The restaurant takes reservations and has air-conditioned indoor seating, and provides cutlery with the meal. Perfect.

I persuaded some people to have lunch there instead of our original venue of &Made. They were so taken by the menu that all of us ordered the vegetarian and vegan burgers. None of us tried the actual beef and chicken options. Hahahah. Those looked pretty all right. We think that the only items that translate to anything in German here are the names of the sauces in bottles, and the beer. Hahaha. The names of the burgers, are just that, random names that don't really mean anything. Oof. I didn't even attempt to pronounce them!

One could choose how you would like the buns- sourdough, multigrain or naked (no buns). The patties all sounded good, and there’re spicy patties too. S$15 or S$16 for this burger, fine by me. I ordered a vegan 'Juglans' on multigrain that held wheat patty with cranberries, sprouts and walnuts. It came with sweet potato fries. When I sank my teeth into the burger, I was blown away. It was soooo good. There's even vegan mayonnaise that's legit, and get this, CHILLI SAUCE that's somewhat spicy. This is so wonderful. I'M SOOOO HAPPY TO FINALLY GET SOME PROPERLY DELICIOUS VEGETARIAN BURGERS IN SINGAPORE. 

These School Shootings

Grimly read the news of the gunman, his legally procured weapon, and his victims at the South Florida high school. And the ensuing debate, the reaction of the country's leaders, and the continued obtuseness of Congress. Nothing much to talk about here except that same-old line of 'thoughts and prayers', since nothing has changed, and school shootings become a way of life.

How is gun violence not a problem in this first world nation? 'Thoughts and prayers' would be fairly useless when the Second Amendment is so steadfast, and the pro-gun lobby and the entire industry behind it are so vocal, connected and wealthy. The Washington Post ploughs through statistics to present us with what is presumably not fake news on the number of shootings. Yes, that number of '18 school shootings in 2018' needs a re-look.

The figures matter because gun-control activists use them as evidence in their fight for bans on assault weapons, stricter background checks and other legislation. Gun rights groups seize on the faults in the data to undermine those arguments and, similarly, present skewed figures of their own. 

~ 'No, there haven't been 18 school shootings in 2018. That number is flat wrong.' By John Woodrow Cox and Steven Rich, published in WaPo on February 15, 2018.

To live in a city where children are taught to stand on toilet bowls in locked cubicles to avoid shooters, or to yell and distract shooters because they're going to die anyway, and therefore should try to find ten extra seconds so that their other schoolmates could run further or give first responders that extra time to get on scene to disarm the shooter.

Shootings are horrific. Mass shootings chill the bone, but there seems to be nothing done beyond lots of talk, anger, angst, sadness, and fairly much nothing else as lawmakers cluck in sympathy. The killing of innocent children and teenagers moved no hearts, it seems. Gun control laws are so difficult to pass and enact in the various states. The Second Amendment is sacrosanct.

To live in a country where the average (and untrained in combat or emergency response) citizen carries guns. It's one thing to learn how to use firearms. I'm all for that. (Let's not talk about hunting here, that's another thread.) But it's quite another to be toting an assault rifle around every day like it's a phone or a watch. I recognize that most people who own and carry guns are fairly sane and controlled. But all you need is a few to snap and some bad eggs. How can the rights of the majority overlook the pain these exact rights are causing? Guns cause far more damage than fists or knives. It's absolutely tempting to use guns to solve arguments, innit? I'm very clear where my sentiments lie.

年初三 :: 戌日耀吉瑞、狗年臻福祥

農曆年初三我沒那麼過分，只是去了三戶人家拜年。下午吃了人家幾包蝦餅，喝了兩杯咖啡和無限量的冰水。 黃昏才抵達程家拜年，順便吃晚餐。呵呵！別又說我臉皮厚哦、是有邀畢赴。先撈起再吃飯。我蠻喜歡吃魚生的。不就是一種挺豐富的salad嘛。程家為客人預備了現烤的美味satay, 又辣又濃的lontong (別提那很欠扁的‘七個隆咚’笑話) 和自家超級棒的清湯糖水。

這家沙嗲店現烤的雞肉牛肉沙嗲串燒又脆又可口。師傅在烤爐前兩個小時內考了幾百串。光吃那沙嗲花生醬和馬來粽就很滿足了。外賣沙嗲遠遠輸於現烤的。今天所謂的 ‘lontong’ 應該準確稱為 'lontong sayur lodeh' 、就是‘蔬菜咖喱米糕’。哇，咖喱味道十足。豆腐熟蛋黃加咖喱是絕配。我經不起誘惑，吞了兩大碗。

肚子飽得不太願意走來走去，也不想找個椅子坐下，勉強滾到了擺甜品的桌子。整桌都是清湯的材料！那六味清湯是程Aunty用了兩天的時間親手去殼煮軟熬湯準備的。她說大家一定要喝完。結果我們每個一人慢慢喝兩碗。嘻嘻。清湯濃中帶清，不甜也不淡，調味熬湯恰好、外邊可買不到的！

拜年 :: 戍歲祝福萬事順、狗年兆豐五穀香

農曆年初二是解放日咯！沒人會在乎我的行蹤，也無人要求我在某某地方按時出現，甚至夠膽吩咐我一定要笑盈盈與他人打交道。初二那種自由的滋味真爽。就是去我想去的地方，見我想見的人。今年一口氣高高興興去了五戶人家拜年。

是，家家都有本難念的經。朋友與父母親之間從小到大的故事糾紛我也略懂。就是因為他們終究不是和我一起住，摩擦根本不存在，所以我以外人身分，一年見幾十次，一點兒難度都沒有。幾時讓我上門拜年，當然由朋友決定、友誼是我們之間的信任。二十多年的友誼了，自然懂得什麼不該和他方父母透露。你我很清楚這種複雜懊惱巧妙的子女關係。🙃

早上我喝了瓶牛奶當早點就出門了。臉皮還真厚 — 午餐、下午茶、晚餐和宵夜都在朋友家吃了。華人傳統籍貫和娘惹東南亞風味的美食全吞進肚子。忙著吃，都忘了一一拍照。咖啡和紅酒也喝了人家幾瓶。嘻嘻。晚餐最過分，吃飽了還很不客氣地接受Aunty S 的好意，把好吃的都打包回家。😬 當然不是空手去拜年的啦、因為有些莫名其妙淘氣的長輩還是會塞紅包給我。我臉皮是厚，但不至於厚到離譜、有帶菊花茶葉，大紅棗，燕窩之類的小禮物孝敬長輩。能到朋友家向他們的父母拜年是福。祝可愛的父母們身心安康，家和萬事興。

年初一 :: 金雞獻瑞欽郅治、玉犬呈祥展宏猷

早上舞獅采青留下的......福。

其實每年農曆初一就是一個字，‘忍’，再‘忍’。😞 一年被逼見一次的親戚能有多親？往往都是老一輩念舊，其實大大與我無關。我對 ‘親情’ 的社會定義看得很淡很輕。我對這個節日沒好感也沒興趣。我對農曆新年多半習俗毫無認同。到了四十歲還是這樣子、做的每一件事都是儘量滿足上一輩罷了。

我從小就不是很喜歡熱鬧，也不善於和人相處。過了這麼多年，和我有接觸的他們也終於明白逼我敷衍了事是沒什麼安樂感的。我從來不會刻意去討好任何人，也不做那種無聊的巴結。他們已經領教過我是多麼不喜歡人潮，清楚我是極端不善於寒暄，也知道我最多做點門面功夫了事。誰有精力追究，就等於和我撕破臉，因為我會當眾回答交代。說起難堪，他們死要面子，不會和我鬥嘴的。平時生活裡都沒有他們的存在，所以他們也深知肚明。到了今天井水不犯河水，簡直是十分和氣。這樣不就很好咯！今年農曆新年可能是我最愉快的。✌🏻

今天只開口說了“hello”和“byeeee”，加幾句“Happy New Year”之類的祝賀了事，已經算是表現特佳了。六點正立刻閃人，跑去Manhattan Bar喝杯超級棒的金湯力。真舒服。好笑的是，我不是一個人，而是早約了六位志同道合的朋友。至少今晚有好友陪伴，我靜靜坐著不說話也無人會指責我。

年夜飯 :: 雞去瑤池傳喜訊、犬來大地報春意

I was so glad that the gym was open today. Needed to work off aggression. 😉 (Need to think about Lent too. Oops.) Went for my first kettlebell class bravely using an 8-kg, then a HIIT class. Was a tad winded after. Nice! The muscles might probably ache soon since it was the first time I did both classes. What was even better- The Daily Cut was still open! Gobbled a happy bowl of savory salad. They’re forever out of lingonberry sauce though, tsk.

The festive season is always a time where I over-eat. But that's not too bad because these calories will be burnt off. I like food, not snacks. I never have a problem saying no to the various snacks or whatever because I don't totally fancy these Lunar New Year snacks. Not pineapple tarts, definitely not the sugary sweet items, and I'm picky even over the savory snacks.

The man's mom's side of the family always rustles up a reunion dinner. I'm glad that this dinner is usually hosted at a hotel restaurant, because I'm so fussy about food that I don't eat half the items on the menu. It's rather awkward to reject food if some aunt or uncle cooked it. Tonight's dinner was seafood-based. Perfect. No giant plates of meats. There were grilled jumbo prawns which I ignored. There was a strange fried rice dish of silky fowl with wolf-berries. Half the table went yucks when they realized the black bits in the fried rice weren't olives but silky fowl. Hurhurhur. I avoid chicken wherever possible. Anyway, for me, eating rice at 11pm would be incoherent. So I skipped the dish. Just a bowl of bird’s nest soup with fish maw, and braised abalone with spinach sufficed.

This reunion dinner is done at the second seating at the restaurants, and never begins earlier than 9pm and often ends at 11.30pm. Zzzzzz. So I've learnt to schedule other dinners before that. Those would begin at 5.30pm or 6pm, and it'd be necessary to fill my growling tummy before sitting down to a second meal again at 9pm when I shouldn’t be eating, and therefore wouldn't take very much food.

POP Pilates Certified!

Signed up for a POP Pilates instructor training session. It’s a birthday present to myself- get myself out of the comfort zone, and do something extroverted, and something that isn’t too time-consuming. Had to brace myself for the onset of group dynamics, and basically, it's a tough thing for an introvert to do.

POP Pilates program director Jules Fultz had flown in from California to lead the master classes and the instructor-training workshop. As the lead facilitator, she was great and all bubbly, and frankly, very good at doing this. I wryly noted that she stuck to the standard workshop facilitation structure, which works well. Hurhurhur. Couldn’t help noticing it. As promised, Jules made it a safe and fun space, and everyone felt comfortable. The full-day workshop went way easier than expected.

It helped that there were familiar faces at the workshop, and I didn't feel too out of place. I mugged like hell and memorized every track of the 55-minute choreography, aside from the one I was assigned to. 😬😂 Honestly, those were easy. It’s the confidence of leading a group exercise class that I sorely lack. That could only come with time and experience.

The really convenient portion- as much as I'm not quite into the genre of music, the selected songs works for the choreography, and made it easy for everyone to follow along. It's a friendly workout. Importantly, licensing and public air-play are all sorted. Submitted the video to the evaluation panel for the final hurdle (one take, no edits); and I passed! Am certified now. Hurrah! #POPArmy

I don't have the personality to be a lead facilitator in a group session. As it is, I shy away from all lead roles at work, and in my social sphere. I have a preferred type of gym instructor; that’s why I keep going to their classes! Hahaha. But I can never be like them, because I’m not a people-person by nature. That’s my biggest hindrance to leading group classes.

I'd be quite happy to cover classes for the regular instructors. It takes quite a big leap of faith for anyone (or an organization) to put me in charge of a class when I have zero experience leading group exercises. Oof. Anyway, I've bravely signed up to co-teach with an awesome instructor. Gotta at least try it before I wimp out right? We'll see how it goes.

Chanel's 'Misia'

Opened the birthday present the dearest girlfriend bought for me. And grinned. I do like this scent that she had picked out. I was all the more tickled because the gift came with a complimentary little bag of flowers from the boutique (since it's February and she bought it close to Valentine's Day). The already harried sales executives actually bothered to pack flowers daily for their customers.

Yes, girlfriends come over to the flat, but it's not as if they go through my toiletries and cosmetics. I've very little interest to talk cosmetics and beauty stuff with them. I'm not into it. 🙃 Those perfume bottles and whatever make-up stuff aren't displayed or visible to anyone at all. So nobody knows what brands I use or what scents are preferred. But well, now that I've written this post, everyone knows. Ooof. At this moment, I favor Misia (named for Misia Sert) very much. Beige or 1932 works too, but Misia remains a top choice. The current bottle is finishing. This gift came at a perfect timing.

When I complimented the girlfriend on her excellent choice and asked her about how she ended up with Misia, she hilariously said, "Muahaha cos we are same same but different re scents, especially i know which Chanel scents you like so can kinda gauge, and i know which ones i have that you don't use so those are great for elimination". She's seriously indulging me lah. #winning My girlfriends are likely to make fairly accurate guesses about the kind of scents I avoid. This girl would know. It's not just the gift; anyone can go out and buy a bottle of perfume. It's the thought process behind it that's much appreciated and makes me feel totally spoilt.

‘The Specter of Failure’

I follow Incidental Comics and look forward to little snippets every other week. It’s created by cartoonist Grant Snider. He’s an orthodontist in his day job, and from his drawings, he certainly got plenty of inspiration from that. I think many friends are following the dude too. Quite a fair number of them keep sharing his posts. I haven’t gotten around to buying his new book ‘The Shape of Ideas’ (2017).

Last month, I giggled at that new comic ‘My Bookshelf’. Well. Haha. We’ve all been there! Although there might be new situations caused by the arrival of my first Kindle years ago. At the very least, I don’t have to worry about buying multiple copies of books. Before thinking about getting new reads in hard copies, I tend to check Kindle store, past book purchases and the local library.

That day, a new Janaury comic popped up. It’s titled ‘The Specter of Failure’. Ahhhh. Failure. This is a word I’m afraid of. It’s the specter that occasionally makes it difficult for me to fall asleep. Okay, I rarely am kept awake by anything, and least of all a new pet or newborn human. I sleep rather well. This specter haunts me in my waking hours. It lurks at the back of the mind and casts aspersions on optimism. Luckily for this specter, or unluckily, I do Plan A to Z and try, as much as possible, to plan for all unfortunate scenarios, even those outside of my control.

This year, I’m afraid of failure on many fronts. Well, basically, this is me every year, every week. Nobody likes failing. I don’t, and I certainly try to avoid that for as much as I can. As the prep for all work and personal projects slowly take shape, self-doubt has begun to creep in. I’ll have to trust my brains, my trained competencies and my uhhh talent......of winging it. Hahahahaha. I suppose I’ll manage, as I always do.

The Great Tomahawk Steak Experiment

The friends rounded us up for dinner because they wanted to grill tomahawk steaks for the first time, just to see if they were worth the hype. Okaaaay. Potluck! The hosts provided the mains of beef and such delicious garlic mash. The rest of us brought seafood white beehoon in gravy, fried rice, sotong balls and curry puffs, a salad of stir-fried mushrooms and peppers with pomegranate seeds, homemade spicy grilled chicken, homemade hummus and chips.

Tomahawks are pricier than regular boneless ribeye, mainly because of its weight. The jury’s still out on whether the extra few inches of bone make a difference to the final flavors of the meat. It’s tough for the marrow to melt on the grill. It kinda works for us because everyone at the table knows what to do with them bones and leftover bits of meat. Bone broth time! Bones would certainly help with a hearty beef soup or boiled as stock for whatever congee, fried rice, etc.

Told you this is why we're happy to have friends feed us steaks at home. They can do absolute justice to the most expensive cuts of beef. The hosts trotted out not one but two types of tomahawks marinated and oven-grilled the same way. One classic Australian with the dramatic long rib bone, and the other was a shortened on-the bone American. Both were grain-fed. I won’t bore you with details of origins; the vote unanimously went to the American prime rib on-the-bone. This is probably going to be an ongoing experiment for the year. Hahahahaha. There’re many different permutations to try- grass-fed beef, different marinades, and moving them to cook on the outdoor grill with charcoal and fire. Such fun. 

Both tomahawk steaks were done beautifully medium to medium rare. A meat thermometer is absolutely essential when we grill a whole fish, and definitely for huge chunks of meat. The hosts shoved them into the oven for an hour and made sure the meats hovered at 56°C before taking them out to sit for five minutes. The done-ness was perfectly distributed. The meat was seasoned simply with salt and pepper. And upon serving, only salt flakes were required. Both meats were flavorful, but tonight, the American tomahawk steak checked off all boxes and won hands down. 

There was another birthday cake, for me. 😋 Everyone’s been busy, stressed, and dealing with lots of absurdity. It was very nice to put those aside for a few hours, make a date to chill out at home, and simply enjoy one another’s company and conversation over great food and drinks. 

Kueh Bingka Ubi With A Candle

The dear girlfriends rustled up a birthday lunch for me at the quieter Violet Oon Bukit Timah. Lunch was unhurried and conversation was beautiful. They insisted on small gifts and a really cute tiny bear to accompany the thoughtful items.

Food was good and we ordered loads of dishes. I do enjoy the kopi-o-siu-dai here. Had two lovely cups. Cackled when they made me order dessert, and it came with a candle. All riiiight. A slab of kueh bingka ubi (or in some quarters, kueh bengkah) it was. Of all kueh, I probably only take kueh kosui and kueh bingka ubi, preferably doused with less sugar and only gula melaka.

This year, I'm doing small gatherings with the friends to mark my fortieth. There're other personal projects and things I'd be doing, of course, to mark the milestone of life, but those aren't done in a day. While blowing out candles on many birthday cakes at the various parties, all my wishes were to have the faeriefolk healthy and happy, and find strength in tears and adversity. These people who love me and bother to make time for me in various ways and in each of their unique manner — they deserve all the good and wonderful that life has to offer. At this lunch, I had hugs and wishes from these girlfriends, and the precious gift of their company- that's worth all the blue diamonds and gold in the world.

At 40, Finally!

子曰：吾，十有五，而志于学，三十而立，四十而不惑，五十而知天命，六十而耳顺，七十而从心所欲，不逾矩。

When I had to study the writings of Confucius for Higher Chinese at A'Levels and General Paper in Chinese, I truly hated the dude. While I have no aversion towards the language, my brain isn't really wired to think in Chinese lah. Neither does it like to do Shakespeare, Chaucer, Aristotle, Plato or Socrates. Today, at 40 years old, I kinda agree with this statement from Confucius in 'The Analects'. Although I currently disagree with his assessment of the fifth decade of life.

The faeriefolk and friends asked if I was doing anything else to mark my fortieth. I said, "nothing grand or fireworks-worthy". It's a choice isn't it? Some mark it with a trek or do a marathon, Ironman or Spartan Race. Others organize fund-raising activities, get on with a huge party, arrange loads of dinners, or turn that dream vacation into reality. We can! We celebrate this milestone of life however we choose to. There isn't a need to adhere to any sort of stereotypes or expectations. Make our own paths. We have the whole year to decide what we want to do with this fourth decade of life.

The birthday began at 6am with a reflection with God and my thoughts, a gorgeous view of sunrise, then a satisfying sweat session at the gym, lunch with my old folks, and a quiet dinner with lovelies which included a superb tom yam soup. For me, this is exactly how I'd like to mark my milestone year- quietly and simply. Like it's another day. Routine, mundane-ness and peace are much treasured. I'm an introvert, and I make no apologies for that. I'm incredibly lucky to be surrounded by people who love me, and remind me of it constantly. These are faeriefolk. They love this quirky me fiercely, as I do them. I've learnt to live with many consequences of decisions made in my youth. Regrets are but few. I'm grateful to have health and strength, I'm happy to be able to serve my community and old folks. I'm privileged to be blessed with plenty in life. It's such a delight to turn 40.

Ribeye & Hainanese Pork Satay

It was meant to be a casual cookout to taste lovely slabs of rib-eye, and a star version of Hainanese pork satay. The hosts took care of those mains. The rest of us contributed bread, salads, a quiche, and cheese. Well, everyone declared that nobody would be drinking that much alcohol. Riiiight. There were many bottles of wine, beer and whisky. So.

The slabs of ribeye were lovingly marinated overnight, and grilled. Experimented with a portable smoke-less grill, and then on the regular charcoal grill. W took on the duties of charring it. He did it blue and rare. They were perfect. Gorgeous. As much as I like beef, a small piece was more than sufficient tonight. We definitely grill better steaks at home than at the restaurants. I think by now, none of us bother to eat steaks at restaurants in Singapore anymore.

Hainanese pork satay is served with peanut sauce and grated pineapple slush. These marinated meat on sticks and accompanying sauces and slush at the cookout, were dished up by the elusive Tiong Bahru satay man (otherwise known as ‘Ah Pui’), or uhhh Mr Ang. By now the entire world knows his name already lah. The last time he did something seriously different and so public, was to team up with Moosehead Kitchen-Bar in their Supper Series to offer a one-off special satay night in April 2017.

I think, if you like pork, and lard, this version of Hainanese pork satay is really good. On each stick, it's like a meat-fat-meat ratio. The grated pineapple slush was pretty fun, and oddly went well with the salad. There’s no heat in this type of peanut sauce though. Blinked when I realized that the friends could do 20, 30 or 40 sticks at one sitting. Whaaaat. That’s a lot of meat! I managed all of five sticks, and even then, I couldn’t bear to eat the lard.

I was completely stunned when the friends trotted out a birthday cake. Didn’t realize it was meant to be mine! My husband didn’t even know this would happen; nobody didn’t say anything to either him or I at all! These sneaky people did it! It was wayyy too early to be celebrating my birthday, so I had thought it was for someone else! The cookout wasn’t meant for me, at least. Hahahaha. Whewwww. It was just a get-together. But still! A cake! The clever folks bought a coconut ice-cream cake from Island Creamery. And it stated ‘EARLY’ too. Hahahaha. This tasted more like sorbet. Lighter. Nice! I would find it hard to reject coconut-anything. Oof. 🥥 I ate quite a fair bit of that coconut sorbet cake!

’Walking In Beauty’

(Image from the festival website.)

Dithered over tickets to Petrina Kow’s ‘Walking In Beauty’ presented at the M1 Singapore Fringe Festival. I knew it was a sterling cast, but what I was hesitant about, its content. I knew what it would touch on. It’s a little too heavy, and too real. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to sit through it.

Six beautiful women. Whose names you would know. Whose wonderful personalities you might be so lucky to be acquainted with. You might also have heard their stories. But nothing makes it as powerful as hearing it in a compact form on stage, together, in a flow that unmistakably celebrates women and their strength.

Arianna Pozzuoli, Deborah Emmanuel, Oniatta Effendi, Anita Kapoor, Frances Lee, and Dr Uma Rajan. Each woman shared their story. Funny, light-hearted, self-doubt, pain, regret, sorrow, of losses, strained relationships, controversy, etc. I won’t go into the details of what each woman shared, sufficed that it’s something personal, perhaps an open secret, but not quite talked about or discussed with people often, Petrina did an excellent job themeweaving the six stories together. (More information on the content here and here.)

It was a sensitive, nuanced and touching performance. I appreciated it, but I didn’t enjoy it. I’m not comfortable with this genre of shows. In fact, I wrote this post much much later because I didn’t want to have to think about it again, or explore deeper within the self. How many of us like what we see when the mirror is held up? I didn’t identify very much with any of their stories. There isn’t a need to. This is the beauty of being human, to be different, to be our own, to be me. It was a good show, and perhaps that is exactly what it hopes to achieve- to stir up thoughts and conversations. 

At Aunty J’s Table

Black gold.

Each time I return from Aunty J’s house, it’s as though I’ve gone grocery shopping and scored these fun bags of delicious food items. We don’t seem to just eat dinner there. We also get food nicely packed in boxes to take home too. It’s very hard to say no when she has obviously cooked sufficient portions for us to do that.

Went over to Aunty J's that evening for dinner. There wasn't a special occasion; at least not that I know of. It was meant to be a simple dinner of the regular sort, and we blinked when we saw what she had prepped. She filled up the entire table with homemade goodness. N smugly told us that it 'is' the normal sort of dinner for them, with or without guests. Pfffft. Lucky girl!

Gorgeous gorgeous food. Assam pork curry, begedil, lemongrass-marinated chicken wings, very delicate ngoh hiang, lots of homemade sambal belachan, assorted dips, and my favorite of all- pure rich buah keluak. Aunty J even made a drink of roselle and aloe vera, from the plants in her garden. She moderated the sugar. I loved it chilled.

Aunty J fed us all dinner, and insisted on packing boxes of food for us to take away, and to heat up for the next two days over lunch or add on to easy dinners. She knows that none of us will bother to (or have the skills to) slave away in front of the stove to churn out anything near her standards. Hurhurhur. It's very difficult to decline her kindness because we know she cooked these extra portions on purpose. She's always happy when we pack her food home. She always wants us to eat more, and we really like her food! We’re such fortunate souls.

'Hasty for the Dark: Selected Horrors'

Read Delia's thoughts about new-to-me author Adam L.G. Nevill's 'Hasty for the Dark: Selected Horrors' (2017), and decided to download it. Nine short tales, and at the end, there is a must-read of 'Story Notes: About These Horrors', which tells us about the inspiration and ideas behind each story.

Some of the tales paid tribute to writers Joel Lane, Jonathan Oliver, Robert Aickman, Conrad Williams, Ramsay Campbell and of course H.P. Lovecraft. The tribute stories are pretty well thought out, fleshing out the spirit and typical distinctive style and manner in the approach of each writer.

The first two stories left me giggling. All about the horrors of living in London. Beyond the glamor, there's the crazy traffic and crowds on the Tube, and the heart-stopping rates of rent in the first three zones. 'On All London Underground Lines' and 'The Angels of London' make you wonder if you're better off dead, or worse, dead, re-living the daily horror of commute and paying rent without even knowing it.

Paying tribute to Ramsey Campbell is 'Little Black Lamb', which is the final story in this collection. Douglas and Sandra suddenly found themselves with strange memories. They weren't hallucinations or suggesting the onset of dementia. The couple had somehow received the memories of serial killers, and picked up a strange suitcase with odd contents. There were also marked changes to the character traits of Sandra. There was a suggestion of a 'movement', a  secret organization or a group that seemed to be controlling what these people do, and Sandra. Then three visitors came to the house, and "two were still alive". I suppose readers could assume Sandra killed the third that "was delivered" to her.

'Call the Name' hinted at the return of the 'Great Old One' to earth (taking cues from Lovecraft in referencing 'Cthulhu') in the year 2055. There's calamity in the world and new species of deep sea creatures, and even mass suicides or perhaps human sacrifices. "I believe we have fatally roused the Great Old One with our careless tenancy. We have begun to wake him with the heat we created." More than horror, it sounded like half fantasy and half science fiction. Or perhaps it's simply the hallucinations of an elderly woman Cleo Harvey, who might have dementia.

No more than a few feet before Cleo's seat, Yoland opens her mouth, but Cleo has no chance of hearing what comes out of it. From the movement of the nurse's lips she can still be certain that a name has been called. 

Yolanda helps Cleo out of her chair and begins moving her towards the balcony, either to see what is happening or to make her a part of the commotion. Cleo winces and whimpers when she sees the long, livid gills where Yolanda's ribs should be.

Dim Sum & Steamboat

The man and I generally don't bother taking dim sum and steamboat/hotpot, so that it's quite nice to have these meals when we can make a full table. When the dear friends fly into town and request for dim sum and steamboat, they get them.

Dim sum at the old school and dependable Asia Grand Restaurant at Odeon Towers was perfect. Happy that we made it over the weekend when the restaurant offers more food and the dim sum trolley. They ordered the usual stuff of baked char siew buns, siew mai and such. Many pork items. Hahaha. Dim sum is like that I suppose. I'm happy with the beautiful cheong fun here, and that peppery savory pig stomach soup!! Mmmm. There was also lobster pan-fried with garlic and spring onions.

Before they flew out, there was time for a looong steamboat dinner at Imperial Treasure Steamboat at Great World City. Made reservations for an early dinner at 6pm, and they gave us booth seats that were sufficiently private. Totally didn't feel guilty for talking so much. Haha.

There were so many condiments for us to mix our own dipping sauces. The restaurant has a signature 'Imperial Treasure Chicken Soup'. We kinda regretted ordering that because it had ginseng in it. None of us liked that taste. The other side of the soup fared better because it was pork bone broth. Totally tickled that the soup actually held a giant pork leg bone. Service was excellent and they came around to help us to refill soup and clear out the coagulated fats and scum.

There was peppery pig stomach soup on the menu too. We all love soup, but ordering that would be too much of a good thing Hahaha. Skipped it. Next time. Ordered loads of vegetables. All the beef was wagyu. Eiooow. None of us are interested in wagyu, so we skipped that and took loads of vegetables, mushrooms and seafood. Light carbs came in the form of egg noodles. What delicious dinner. We stayed till almost 10pm! Loads to talk about and it was so good to see the friends again. It was a night of no alcohol since we had early starts the next day. :P

Ox Tongue Time!

It's time for the man to cook a few servings of ox tongue! This is the in-between lull between the exhausting feasting of Christmas and Lunar New Year. Perfect to send little boxes of tasty cholesterol bombs to friends to nibble on. Hehehehe.

We were left scratching our heads at the prices of ox tongues. Since when did raw ox tongues rise up to S$6.60 per 100 grams at a fancy butcher's? It's pricing raw tongues way higher than a cut of Argentinian fillet steak! IT'S RAW. IT'S TONGUE. IT'S OFFAL. Madness. Those frozen tongues are heavy! You won't get one for less than 1.2 kg. Said fancy butcher shop offered cooked slices of ox tongue too, at S$6 per 100 grams. But we didn't know if the cooked ones were tasty. We had other options, and took a look at those. Went back to our regular butcher at Tekka Market. We also preferred the tongues to be halal.

[Frozen ox tongues are lighter than as a frozen whole leg of lamb. Teeeeheheheee. Suddenly I recall this short story. Remember Roald Dahl's short story, 'Lamb to the Slaughter' (1953) in which housewife Mary Maloney swung a frozen leg of lamb at the back of her husband's head and killed him, and then roasted the lamb in the oven to rid it as evidence? 🤣]

Cured and braised. Outer skin had been peeled off. Ready to be sliced up.

Boiled up a pot of brine, prepped two boxes, and stuck the tongues in there to sit for a week. If we do tongue, we might as well do two. One is simply not quite worth the effort. These tongues look revolting, huh. Very icky. That's why they need to be treated. After being cured, they would need to be rinsed and sat in clear water for a day to rid excessive salt. Brine is ridiculously salty.

Then we slow-braised them in beer (Tiger works fine), root vegetables and spices. We’ve tried doing this step on the stove-top, in an oven and a pressure cooker, and decided that we like the texture on the stove-top best. After braising the tongues, that thick layer of skin is removed, and meat within was sliced, and voilà, there would be deliciousness. These slices of tongue ought to be taken in small quantities. The cholesterol is sky high.

Tasted it. Hmmm. All these years... this batch might be the best yet. Packed them into boxes for the fat-and-offal loving friends, and drizzled the braising sauce over it. Mustard! Mayonnaise! Tomato relish! Pickles! Ox tongue sandwiches! 🥪 One could further sear the slices to be enjoyed on its own, or lightly stir-fried with kecap manis and chillies. Whichever manner the friends may fancy.