Swan Lake, the Ballet

Thanks TPR for a lovely Christmas present! Last night, after a tiring day of badminton (at a justifiably crazy time of 7am) and climbing, TPR and I capped off the evening with a beautiful production of Swan Lake, the Ballet, by the Singapore Dance Theater. The stage drop was sumptuous and detailed; Tchaikovsky’s scores were lovely as usual – though we would have enjoyed it a ton more if we had a real orchestra instead of a recording. While the dancing from the rest of the company was somewhat uneven, and even disorderly at times, the principal dancers – Siegfried, Odette – were brilliant. They looked so amazingly light and graceful on their feet, and their pirouettes tightly executed. Such fun; all my sleepiness quite simply disappeared (which is more than I could say for the two little girls sitting beside and in front of me).

Two things – irrelevant to the ballet – struck me while watching the performance, that is the morals taught to little kids growing up:
1. It is a duty to marry
2. Men fall in love at first sight and live happily ever after with beautiful women (the most beautiful in the world, necessarily). It doesn’t matter that they have never talked before, that they have just laid eyes on the other, but a single glance is enough to convince them the the other is the love of their life

Anyway, here’s the original 1981 cartoon of Swan Lake, on Youtube!

Once again, thanks for the fun evening TPR!

Locked and Loaded

Decided not the wait for the confirmation of my visa and went ahead to take the plunge.

Tickets have been bought for my one way trip on 25 January 2010. And I used 25,000 miles to book a short ski trip to Denver from 27-31 January 2010.

If for some reason something occurs, the downside is minimal: $100 to change the airfare, and 25,000 miles foregone. I think I’d rather that now than wait and pay a potentially higher ticket to Chicago and then shell out an additional couple hundred bucks for the ticket to Denver in lieu of miles.

Someone once said (perhaps I made this up), do as much as you can when young

Friday

The festivities began on Friday night, when Lina, Rach, Harn, and I showed up at a mostly empty gym for some climbing. Pretty happy about that – I felt strong, if not the strongest I’ve been in a while, and put in some good routes (although my fingers are still feeling the strain right now). Rach, however, was even better. Truly amazing; I have no doubts that she’d soon be scaling 6C climbs.

Our mood was dampened somewhat after the climb though, as we were gathering our stuff together so we could head for a quick dinner and then onto activity #2, karaoke – Rach’s bag was missing. A quick call to her cell phone confirmed our worst suspicions: it had been turned off – some unsavory character had made off with it, along with her wallet, keys, and, to her utmost dismay, her new grigri. The handful of other climbers in the gym came over when they saw us huddling miserably in the corner. One of them was a former policeman, and he was helpful in giving us directions on what to do. Another lady ventured that our thief may have been a dodgy-looking young Malay chap in a baseball cap and Red Bull singlet; she saw said character walking out of the hall with a black bag. Tough luck, but I suppose it could have been a lot worse. We helped cancel all her cards, her phone line, and called her dad to come down with a spare set of car keys.

After we had seen Rach off, Lina and I met up with Jacq and we headed off to a nearby hawker center for a very late dinner (1130pm) of wonton noodles and fried carrot cake. We then spent the next couple hours lounging at the table ah-pek style, with mugs of iced milk teas and coffee, dissecting the English language, favorite childhood TV shows, and other random crap that is appropriate for that late in the evening.

Saturday

Enjoyed one of my precious days off and lounged in bed till mid morning before leisurely going through my documents and taking stock of just what I’d have to pack for the big move. Bleah, even without lugging any books back, my climbing and camping gear alone would take up a couple boxes.

Activity #3 took off in the early afternoon: another round of badminton, this time with WW, Jacq, and of course, my trusty partner for the sport, Char. We lobbed the shuttlecocks around for a good two hours before we collapsed exhausted, sweaty, but happy. The two girls had other commitments in the evening, so they left soon after, while WW and I decided to hit the pool for activity #4. Despite our best intentions, we didn’t go far: 8 laps for him and 12 for me. Enough to say that we’d swum.

So we washed up and then picked Palex up for a hefty dinner of wings and fish & chips at my Duke of Perth stand-in, Charlie’s Corner in Changi Village. WW and I had a couple hours to kill before our next activity, karaoke, so Palex invited us back to his place, where we caught the really, really mindless and retarded movie, Zombieland. It is a show that ought to be watched only with a beer in hand, but since I had one already with dinner, it sort of counted. After that, and an episode of South Park later, it was nearly 11pm and WW and I were ready to meet Lina for our karaoke session.

Good times! We covered all the oldies – Ji Gong, ABBA, Beatles, as well as Fei Yu Qing, as well as the newer ones – Black Eye Peas and Lady Gaga. We screamed, yelled, and gyrated away – thank goodness we had our own room, so we didn’t make too big fools out of ourselves.

Sunday

After collapsing at 3am, it was painful to drag myself out of bed at 9am, but Char, Palex, BJ and I had a tennis date. The others evidently had as much trouble as I did waking up, because Palex only arrived 10 minutes after 10am, BJ a half hour after, and Char a whole full hour after. It was fun though. I haven’t played in more than a decade, and even then it had been more of running after the ball and smacking it straight into the net, but still I had a blast. The sun was uber hot though, and I got a little burnt – looking forward to picking up the sport in Chicago, where the weather is more forgiving.

Later in the afternoon, after a refreshing 1.5 hour nap, WW, YH and I met at the beach across my place for a spot of kite flying. Something I haven’t done in, yep, more than 10 years (there seems to be a trend). YH hadn’t even flown a kite before! We were quite the idiots. Ours were simple diamond-shaped kites, but we couldn’t even figure out how to properly tie them. Our first attempt had us tying the kites backwards and scratching our heads in puzzlement as the kites kept smacking our faces instead of blissfully ascending into the sky. It took an amused onlooker to correct our mistake.

Happily though, we eventually managed to send the kites up in the air, and once they were there, we could lie back on the grass and relax. It was really windy out, and there was a number of kite enthusiasts sharing the space with us. Some had really fancy kites – those that resemble mini paragliders that they sent swopping and whopping in the air. One such kite cut WW’s kite, sending it into the high branches of a tree.

So we took the string from his kite, attached it to mine, and got our kite even higher into the air. Even so, ours was still not the highest kite. Gracie and Amanda joined us later in the evening, and Amanda quickly took command of the kite and even told off a kid who was apparently trying to cut our kite with hers, “Don’t cut my kite or I’ll tell your parents!” WIN.

Amanda wanted wings for dinner, so WW and I again found ourselves at Charlie’s Corner. Not that I was complaining though, I have a propensity to keep on eating my favorite foods over and over.

So it was that capped my highly exhausting, but eventful weekend. Looking forward to the next!

2009, Coming Home Again

Yes, I can see why you want to leave Singapore, everyone tells me over and over, it’s not that exciting a place to live in, it’s so boring.

They are missing the point.

To be honest, it took me the better part of a year from when I returned to Singapore to fully appreciate life here. Not because there isn’t anything to do here – someone once said (probably my mother) that life isn’t boring, it’s the person who is – but rather that it took me a while to feel part of a community again. One cannot simply expect to stay away for 7 years and return to find groups of people eager and waiting to take you into their fold again. Once I finally settled in however, I packed my schedule to the brim with activities: climbing, diving, etc. This might be a tiny little island, but there is plenty to do both on and off the island. Case in point: this weekend, I will be climbing, singing karaoke, playing badminton, swimming, playing tennis, kite flying, and having dinner with friends.

No, I’m choosing to leave not because I don’t like life in Singapore. I love life here, and I think that this past year, I have come to see home as here.

~.~.~.~.

Now that the year is drawing to the close, it’s time to do the traditional and look back at some of the most memorable moments:

Best Article/Book
I haven’t been reading as much as I used to. Most of my literature this year consisted of books on wine, and old books from my bookshelves that I re-devoured. Off the top of my head, I can’t quite name one book that made an indelible impression on me.

That said, there are two articles this year that I have read, and re-read, and also forwarded on to friends. The first was a speech given by Karl Paulnack, pianist and director of music division at Boston Conservatory for Boston Conservatory’s freshman class: Things that Matter. The second was Steve Job’s speech to the Stanford 2005 graduating class, entitled Connecting the Docts. I have turned repeatedly to this latter speech in recent days, while trying to come to a decision on the move back to Chicago.

Best Trip
I’ve made quite a number of trips taken this year:
1. Work trip to Jiuzhaigou, China, January
2. Skiing in Innsbruck, Austria, January
3. Work trip to Kunming and Lijiang, China, March
4. Ski trip and visit, Colorado and Chicago, April
5. Diving in Dayang, Malaysia, May
6. Work trip and climbing trip, Tianjin, Dalian, Suzhou, Shanghai, Hong Kong, June
7. Diving in Tioman, Malaysia, August
8. Diving in Redang, Malaysia, September
9. Wine and hike trip to Tasmania, Australia, October
10. Upcoming diving trip to Sipadan, Malaysia

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Of these, I think the most memorable would be the week sojourn through Tasmania. Everything was perfection: the food, scenery, wine, hiking, company. The only lacking bit was time.

Best Wine
I haven’t tasted it yet, and I doubt I will, but 2009 marks the year I bought my first first growth wine, Chateau Lafite. In fact, I bought a case of it, along with half a case of Chateau Margaux, and several cases of second growth wines. These are for investment purposes.

Best Restaurant

I loved my trips to Ember, and Grand Asia has the best sizzling pepper beef ever, but hands down, the best restaurant of the year has to be Alinea, and not just for the hefty price tag. The food was as much of an experience as the service and the presentation. I doubt I will be making a return trip sometime soon, but no matter, that way the magic is preserved.

Best Challenge
Diving, diving, diving! I love it as much for the incredible scape and amazing diversity of life and color underwater as for the companionship of all my zany friends.

Trawling through old memories

Wah thank goodness for Gmail, Gchats, and my very own online journal. Without which I wouldn’t have been able to go back and piece together my comings and goings of the past five years. Bleah.

While I am not Julian Robertson, for some reason or the other the US embassy decides that I need to keep scrupulous records of my movement into the country. So mafan!

The Lunch

Spend some time with us, my mum said, let’s go Christmas shopping on Sunday. Even though I hate shopping, and shopping in Orchard at that, I acquiesced. Trying to be a more filial daughter lah, and besides, my mum would be going off to Antarctica for three weeks, while my aunt returning to DC soon. I thought it would be nice to bring them out to lunch as well, perhaps a cozy little Japanese restaurant, where we could partake in fresh sashimi.

That morning however, my mum said, oh your brother and cousin, and another aunt would be joining us as well. Wah lau. So many! I said as much, and she accused me of being miserly. Ok fine, I’ll treat, I relented, but not expensive Japanese. Don’t be so giam siap (miserly) lah, my mum lamented.

I drove downtown in my own car, and walking towards the mall to meet them, I passed by the little café that TPR swore had the best fish & chips in town. In a burst of inspiration, I strode in, and placed reservations for 6.

At the mall, my mum announced, oh, another aunt is coming to lunch too. Win lor. But whatever, they were my aunts afterall, and I really should be more big-hearted.

When those two aunts heard that I was treating them to fish & chips though, they expressed dismay. So unhealthy! Why can’t we go eat something else? At the restaurant, they pulled the waitress aside, and asked her, excuse me, could you change the breaded fish with a grilled one, and oh, while you’re about it, replace the chips with a side of salad instead?

Nobody else ordered appetizers, but the two aunts decided that a portabella mushroom salad was in order. Their dishes came, and the rest of us watched them leisurely eat while we sat starving. Before my aunts had finished, the waiters came out bearing the rest of our main courses. One of my aunts, who was still lingering over her salad, grumbled, why did they bring out the rest of the food? I’m not done yet! Hello, did you hear my mum say how hungry she was, and had been?

Win lah. Ok, I’m really not begrudging the money spent on the meal. I was glad to have done something nice for family, and I would have spent that much anyway if the three of us had gone for Japanese. But somehow, I came away feeling somewhat dissatisfied. I think I would have felt much happier about the whole event if I had initiated bringing all that many people out to lunch in the first place.

Badminton, the new high

There is something deeply satisfying about running after a small shuttlecock, and smashing it across the net. Even more so when it leaves you completely breathless, aching, and drenched. I love having to mope my brow of sweat (thank goodness the days of futilely wiping fogged up glasses on damp shirts are over), and looking down at the sheen of sweat on my legs. Climbing doesn’t give me this kind of aerobic high, ala the recent article from the NY Times, Exercising Makes You Less Anxious.

I do believe I’m hooked, although I don’t have that much time left here to turn badminton playing into a routine. In any case, this weekend, I played two rounds of badminton. The first, on late Saturday evening (9-11pm), with Charmain, JH, and RX, following an afternoon of scaling walls. Char and I joined her friends on Sunday afternoon for round 2, and by the time we were done, I was exhausted. I struggled to stay awake until a respectable time to go to bed, and then blissfully fell promptly asleep at 10pm.

Good times indeed!

Move

It seems like a lifetime ago already that I received the formal offer. Even though it has only been a week.

And even though my visa has yet to be processed (meaning that there is still a scary possibility that I could end up stuck in Singapore), my life – and that of my family’s – has been turned upside down.

To say my family reacted to the news is truly the understatement of the year, if not my life. We are still trying to grapple with the fallout.

At the end of the day, this is a decision not undertaken lightly. But it has been made, for better or for worse.

So if everything goes to plan, I will be moving in less than two months, back to Chi-town. Though I feel somewhat guilty and conflicted, I have to admit that I am looking forward to it. Aye.

The Apple Amazing Race

This is what Jan and I spent Saturday afternoon doing – running around Singapore (City Hall, Bugis, Orchard, Boon Lay) like crazed idiots. All for the distant promise of some Apple products.

And what do you know? We got into the semi-finals. So we get to do it all over again in two weeks…

Hot Shit

Not to be crude, but I did mean it literally.

Lina had been boasting to us about her hottest chicken wings experience at Seletar Air Base’s Sunset Grill. “We ordered the Level 20 wings”, she said, “and the wings were so hot, the next day, my ass was on fire when I went to the bathroom!” Though she wasn’t keen to revisit the experience, she still wanted to go back with us to claim the certificate that the restaurant gives out for people crazy enough to attempt wings that spicy.

So after hauling ass up the walls at Climb Lab, the five of us headed over in our three cars. Thanks to Lina’s GPS, we made it to the air base quickly; no thanks to her GPS, we spent the next 10 minutes circling the various camps, trying to locate the restaurant.

We finally found it, before our stomachs started protesting. Excitedly, we plopped ourselves down at the alfresco seating area, and enthusiastically beckoned the waiter. “Give us a half dozen of your hottest wings!” We barked. The waiter was slightly nonplussed. “Have you tried our wings before?” He politely enquired. We breezily waved no, and brushed aside his dire warnings of previous daring souls who’d tried and failed, leaving with stomach cramps, diarrhea, vomiting, and even fainting. It’s just one measly wing apiece. How bad can it be, right?

Grinning as he acquiesced, the waiter took our orders, but not after he’d pulled the other waiters over to bestow similar warnings upon us.

Our other orders came quickly. A pitcher of beer, amazingly juicy breaded mushrooms, a huge plate of nachos, and a dozen Level 4 chicken wings. We eagerly tucked into the food, and then attacked the wings. One wing in, Palex was already sweating profusely. Pass the pitcher please, he said, and I handed him the pitcher of water, whereby he proceeded to down 4 glasses of water. Level 4 spiciness!

Bijuan looked increasingly nervous. Lina kept moaning, why am I doing this? I was already dying after Level 20 the last time! The waiters came back to check on us, one by one. Ready for the wings? They mocked. Bring it on!

At last, the plate came. Six chicken wings sitting innocuously on the plate. Fiery red sauce. But then, the Level 4 wings were similarly colored. I picked up a piece and bit thoughtfully into it. With round eyes, Lina and Bijuan looked on. “It’s ok lah, just a bit spicier, that’s all,” I said nonchalantly. But a minute later, I could feel it burning down my throat. My eyes started to water. I grabbed my glass, and took a huge gulp.

BIG MISTAKE. I started to choke, and cough, and teared even more. “This stuff is bloody hot!” I managed to spit out. Lina and Bijuan stared, eyes wide in fear. Palex grabbed a wing off the plate, and started to shove the meat into his mouth.

Bijuan screamed. Palex didn’t make a sound. He just chewed on, like a man bent on a mission. Within a half minute, he had just a pile of bones and a very red looking plate. And face. He motioned for the pitcher of water. A terrified Bijuan refilled his glass. And screamed some more. Palex downed it, quickly. And motioned for a second. And a third. And then a fourth. All the while not saying a word. After his fifth glass of water, he abruptly pushed back his chair, stood up, and stalked off to the wash basin by the entrance. We could hear him splashing water on his face.

I wanted to laugh at the spectacle of it all, but my throat was still closed. And I still had a half wing left uneaten.

Grimly, I started to tear the meat out, even as Josiah gamely picked up his wing and started to chew on it. Lina also picked up hers, gingerly, and started to tear the meat from the bones. Bijuan was still looking on, ashen-faced.

Every bite was sheer agony. My nose had started to run, so I used a piece of tissue to wipe it. Only, in doing so, some of the chili sauce got onto my skin as well. Ahhh! My mug of beer looked super inviting, but I couldn’t steel myself to take another sip.

Palex was now back at the table. Composed, he could now smile calmly at us. “Come on, it’s not so bad!” We ignored him, and continued to munch on the chicken, taking care not to let the meat touch our lips.

Finally, Josiah and I were done. He quietly, me taking huge gulps of air. We looked on at Lina, who was finishing her last bite, and at Bijuan, who was still seemingly frozen over her uneaten piece of chicken.

And then, Lina was done too. Like Palex, she immediately rushed for the water. Five glasses in one go. Her face was flushed red. Bright red. But in between, she found enough voice to urge Bijuan on. Start by cutting up the meat, she said, it will be easier once you can just put everything in your mouth.

Now four watery eyes were on Bijuan. She used her fingers to pick at the chicken. Suddenly, she wailed, “My fingers are numb! I can’t move them! Heeeeeelllllp!” I don’t know how on earth she managed it, but indeed her fingers looked oddly stiff, frozen in a state of homage towards the killer chicken.

It took her another few minutes before she could move her fingers again, and with video camera rolling, we videotaped her final, victorious, and vicious bite.

And now, we were done. Valiant eaters, whom, despite the waiters’ best attempts, paid no heed to their portends of doom but conquered the chickens.

Except, now the fire had moved from our throats to our stomachs. The red was gone from our faces, replaced by sheens of green. “I need to puke,” Lina said, and without further ceremony, ran from the table.

It was worth it though. For our efforts, we each received a certificate from the restaurant. And our admiring waiters revealed that we were in fact only the 9th table who had had the guts to take on their mighty challenge.

But yes, this morning, the shit was hot.