The Bridezilla VS the Budding Groom

Contrary to popular belief, I'm not quite the bridezilla I made myself out to be.

yes, i can fork out almost 16 dollars for a Brides magazine and without taking any of the "what bride are you?" quizzes available online, i instinctively know that i'm what they might term "a classic bride". i know which colour palette to use for my wedding and i already have theme shades all carefully thought out for the reception.

march-in song? check.
guest entertainment? double check.
customised invitation cards, escort cards and wedding favour boxes? hell YES.

but when it came to my gown, i sold out after five shops and three days of shopping. i'd always thought that i would scour every single bridal boutique in singapore before deciding on The Dress, but really, every gown you try on does fade into whitewash after five minutes. and before you know it, you find yourself trooping back to the first store and buying that very first dress you tried on (well, not quite the case for me but close).

but while i come to terms with my broken ambitions as a bridezilla, it's very heartening to know that the man is experiencing a transition that is quite simply the opposite of mine.

he was never one to believe in marriage. for a long period of time i was worried that it wasnt on the cards for the both of us. but then he came around and made it happen. and i know he did it for me.

now that he has slowly warmed up to the idea of having a wedding in singapore, he is beginning to partake in the fun of preparing for it. he's excited about the wedding bands, he's asking me if he should tailor a suit and he's thinking of all the people he should invite to the reception.

and now, it seems that we might actually have one in okinawa afterall.

it means so much to me that he's enjoying the process because it's finally starting to feel like we're doing this together. and for that, i'm more than ready to let go of my bridezilla tendencies, because it's always more important to have a groom who is ready to step into his new shoes.

When It Hits The Fan

The lesson I've learnt in the past few weeks:

Shit can fall from anywhere and when you least expect it. And when it does, it usually lands all over the place, soiling your otherwise perfect little life and your fresh-as-white-linen perceptions of the world around you.

just when you think you have everything figured out, crap hits the fan.

maybe it's because they know we can take it. and by "taking it", i mean "sucking it up and making it a non-issue". i might joke that i have a blinking sign in loud neon letters screaming "Shit Here Please" on my forehead, but judging by my past experiences, i might as well have been the person hammering that very signboard onto my own head.

i dont do confrontational. when things go bad, i usually take my bruised feelings with me to bed. when i wake up the next morning, the world will always feel like a slightly better place. i might try to throw a little pity-party by indulging in the "dont-worry-it's-not-you" charity doled out by friends, but i hardly ever make my real feelings known to the one whose words/actions had hit too close to home.

i think it's because i'd never thought being honest about such things would work. feeble attempts in the past have gotten me nowhere. if no one listens, i'd rather keep my feelings to myself than get myself into more trouble. and so the evil cycle continues. i get crapped on, i clean up the ensuing mess, i get crapped on again. it has happened one time too many very probably because i allow it to.

and when things get like this, you can forgive but the sure as hell, the heart never forgets. and the heart remembers because the hurt eats into you, and bores little holes that remind you of the disappointment and sadness that you were made to feel.

honestly i thought it would be different this time. i guess i thought wrong.

The Only Exception

Sweet song, sweet lyrics and an even sweeter music video.

The Question

To which my answer was "Yes".

my heart didn't skip a beat and my breath didnt catch in my throat. to be honest, i had been given a plain vanilla option and it was even a little disappointing.

but i awoke the next morning to the joy and comfort of knowing that this man would always be mine to have. and then suddenly it felt as if all i've ever wanted was to see my name next to his surname, to wear his ring on my finger, to refer to him as my husband in front of my family and friends.

i can hardly wait.

A New Watering Hole

Since I'm due to return home in less than two weeks, I've been spending more time with Seiko of late.

seiko, who's from miyako, an island about 50 minutes away by plane, only began living on the main island of okinawa when she started attending university. since i'm only familiar with certain parts of naha and places closer to the school and my home, seiko and i are perpetually like two tourists whenever we're out. i'm always getting lost in the car and she's always squinting at the map.

since the beginning of the spring break seiko and i have started taking little road trips to places that we've heard so much about but never had the time/opportunity/guts to go to. so far we've discovered and eaten at new cafes, munched on handmade tarts at tiny bakeries and shopped for souvenirs at far-out shops selling knick-knacks and designer chocolates.

just this week, we finally found the up-and-coming settlement of minato-gawa 港川 after an hour of hard searching. minato-gawa, which sits just minutes behind the island's major traffic pipeline route 58, is uncomfortably located in a tangle of metal factories, car workshops, condominiums and even a swimming school.

once you get past all that however, you'll find yourself surrounded by a collection of 40 or so single-storeyed houses shaped like rectangular boxes and doused in happy shades of paint. minato-gawa was originally the site for cluster housing for the american soldiers in the 70s, and since prefectural authorities loosened up much of the red tape governing the rental and sale of houses in the area, everyone from the architect to the tart-maker has moved in, creating a mixture of shops, offices and houses that is altogether spontaneous and irresistably charming.

here are some pictures of minato-gawa (tried my hand at a free photo collage software i got off the internet):

Waiting

You know things are getting out of hand when:

1. you find yourself holding your breath even when there really isnt anything exciting happening.

2. everytime he calls your name, you reply with an overly-pregnant "YES?"

3. you keep checking your diary for all the possible dates that you might be asked The Question.

4. you find yourself seriously considering the amazing bridal photo shoot package your friend just went for.

5. you have this urge to wring his neck and scream "WHEN? WHEN? WHEN???" everytime you see his face.

this is SO stupid.

Viva La Tokyo

My fourth time in Tokyo and my first by Pokemon air travel.

the plane was half-empty but everything from the curtains to the seat covers was bedecked with pokemon and his furry friends (wait, are they fur or fibreglass?) so there was really little want for company. funny but when i landed, the train that picked me up was drenched in pokemon as well. guess the yellow thing's got a chokehold on all means of transportation in tokyo.

this time, i made it a point to see stuff that i havent yet seen on all of my other trips to the metropolis. i visited kamakura (renamed "kane-kure" 金くれ henceforth, which means "more money please" because everything there comes with a pricetag. even trying to view flowers on the temple grounds will cost you.), went to shimo-kitazawa and kichijouji, two bustling towns for tokyo youth, took in all three major museums and finally ate a krispy kreme donut.

everything was done on me-time so i rested whenever i wanted, met with whomever i liked and ate everything i fancied. but you know a place has crossed the line separating "holiday destination" from "just another town" when you dont stop to admire the rainbow bridge or the tokyo tower, or even bother with taking pictures. the shopping's great, the people are beautiful and the air still crackles with electric tension, but when everything was done i just really wanted to head back home to sleepy okinawa.

my lack of tourist sentiments notwithstanding, i still managed to make some (important) observations during my trip.

1. want to be fashionable the tokyo way? stick a huge bow on your head. a ribbon from an hermes scarf says you have money, a bow made of fake hair says you listen to lady gaga. any other bow and you have only just met the minimum requirement for keeping in touch with the trends.

2. we're all familiar with the term "ikemen" イケメン (shortened from "iketeru menzu" イケてるメンズ), a title bestowed upon good-looking members of the male species. personally, i find that the term translates beautifully into the singlish phrase "can-make-it". lately however, the lack of a precise definition has caused the term to suffer from gross misuse. seems to me that the "cannot-make-it" men of the city have been passing themselves off as better-looking people by hiding behind painstakingly teased and styled locks, goatees and beards, not to mention sharp suits and shoes. take off all that hair (facial or otherwise), render them naked and tokyo might actually be bereft of good-looking men.

3. they dont kiss or hold hands in public because yes, they are japanese that way. but if their boyfriend is ang moh, they instantly get a free pass to public displays of affection. like, they cant possibly be japanese if their boyfriends arent.

by the way, i lied when i said i didnt take any pictures.

Air Pokemon

Krispy Kreme, Shinjuku (did i mention that they were giving out free original sugar-glazed donuts?)

The Great Bronze Buddha in Kane-kure

Sunset at Eno-shima 江ノ島, Kane-kure

Grow a heart and body of cold metal and you'd be freezing too.

Plum and sakura blossoms at Hase-dera 長谷寺, Kane-kure

False Alarm

Over the phone last night, he asked me what size I was.

my heart skipped a beat, my breath caught in my throat and the joy in my voice became openly discernible.

turns out he saw a coat in a vintage store and wanted to buy it for me, but no, i wasnt a size 10.

all i really wanted to say was: my dear ken, my ring size is a US 6 (but in case it doesnt fit, we can always re-size it?).

i am starting to heap all my eggs in one tiny basket once again, despite the constant reminders to myself not to do so.

on a lighter note, i went looking for my graduation kimono (hakama) last week and i'm pretty happy with what i picked.

Em from Thailand and I:

The Bridezilla is Back!

This is possibly a very funny thing to contemplate, but there are so many pretty dresses in the world and only one wedding in every girl's life. imagine the gravity of the situation. pick the wrong dress and you'll never get a second go again.

bingeing on creamy confections on brides.com now that i can afford more time for meaningless surfing on the internet. reem acra takes the cake for autumn 2010. her dresses are light, fluffy and above all, ethereal.

Squeezed Like Blood From a Stone

I'm very probably belittling childbirth here, but I seriously think that if I can give birth to this, I can pop at least five real babies.

wanted to take a picture of my baby but there were people in the room so i thought it'll look stupid (will post some shots later when i get it back for further corrections.)

here are my baby's vital statistics:

date and time of birth: 18th jan 2010, 11.28am
weight: 109 pages, 171,930 words, 5,245 lines and 1,169 paragraphs
sex: feminist girl
name:　沖縄におけるフェミニズムの新しい可能性を探って―「杣山訴訟」の事例からみるフェミニズムの多様性と交差性

hell, if i can do this, i can even climb mt. everest with five kids and a husband in tow.

ピリ辛豚どんぶり

I'm not quite aiming to be the next domestic goddess, but there is something about sitting in front of a PC for hours on end, draining your brain juices over an academic exercise that makes you take sudden and renewed interest in cooking and eating.

i'm not a fussy eater and i dont like complicated, time-consuming recipes because if it takes you up to an hour to prepare and cook it, you're better off heading straight to the restaurant for the real deal. i also like hearty and tummy-filling meals, so thats why most of the dishes that i've blogged about so far are big on carbs and meat.

i came aross this recipe in a local magazine while waiting for the car to be washed at the gas station, and i gave it a go that very evening. it was simple, quick and surprisingly good so i thought i'd share the recipe here.

ingredients:

100 gm of sliced pork

chives (i didnt have any so i substituted with about 10cm of scallions)

lettuce (about 3-4 large leaves)

cooking wine (half a tablespoon)

doubanjiang (half a teaspoon)

cornflour (half a tablespoon)

sugar (half a teaspoon)

soy sauce (one tablespoon)

salt, pepper

1. lightly season the pork with salt and pepper, and add the wine, sugar, soy sauce, cornflour to the meat. slice lettuce and cut chives.

2. add cooking oil to a frying pan and lightly fry the doubanjiang on medium heat.

3. add the pork and stir-fry on high heat. add chives when meat is fully cooked.

4. fill a deep bowl with rice, lay the sliced lettuce and top it with the pork.

and this is what you'll get:

Empire State of Mind

New York, where dreams are made.

Jay-Z can move from brooklyn to tribeca, have his courtside seats for the Knicks game and cruise down A street in an off-white lexus, but he'd still be "'hood forever".

orchard road will never be times square and the merlion is definitely no statue of liberty, but like jay-z, i am most definitely from where home is.

i wasnt raised in the projects and my streets arent new york, but i love my city too. i love everything from the money-making air in shenton to the noisy chatter and raw smells down at the wet market. why drink starbucks in the morning when you can have teh with kaya toast? fine dining is lovely, but then again, so is dinner at the zi-char stall.

we can all learn to appreciate the finer things in life while staying close to our roots.

so yes, i'm from the heartlands and i'm keepin' it real, cos there is no way anyone can take the singapore out of this girl.

Serinah's Fried Chicken

Move over Kentucky, SFC is here.

i think i've managed to figure out how to make my very own colonel's fried chicken! and what's better, my version's baked in the oven so it's probably a healthier option.

here's how i did it:

preheat oven to 220 degrees.

while oven's warming up, mix three tablespoons of fine breadcrumbs with three tablespoons of grated cheese (powder version is completely fine as well) and three tablespoons of olive oil. add a generous amount of chopped basil (dry version also okay), a pinch of salt and cracked black pepper.

cover one large piece of chicken thigh meat completely with the mixture above and pop it in the oven for 20 minutes, skin side down. (no turning over required)

if you want to make the meal healthier, toss in some cherry tomatoes ten minutes into baking. the above mixture also works for white-meat fish.

an extremely simple and easy recipe. the end result was baked chicken with crispy skin and very juicy meat. and it really tastes like KFC!

Happy Birthday to Me

I thought I did a pretty good job of turning 29.

i got up, went to school just like any other saturday. ken had the day off so after class we stuffed ourselves silly on all-you-can-eat yakiniku and spent the rest of the afternoon in the zoo.

the next day i had lunch with ken's family and potlucked with some old friends in the evening.

i think i'm just about done with my 20s. every now and then i might moan about growing old, but deep down i'm really just looking forward to hitting my next decade. if the first ten years are about being a girl and the next twenty are spent learning how to be a woman, i guess 30 is the year when i let the meaning of the word "woman" seep into my skin and into the core of my being.

because even when you're officially an over-adult at 29, you can somehow still make the fatal mistake of eating too much grilled meat with your 30-year old boyfriend and suffer from a bad tummy for two days straight. (the 30 year old man is now suffering from gastric flu. we are swearing off yakiniku until stupidity takes control again.)

some shots from my birthday:

lunch with ken's folks (clockwise from behind me: grandpa, mom, aunt and uncle)



beautiful red roses from ken's grandpa and a magnifying face mirror from his aunt and uncle

katsura and i blowing out the candles on our cake (she turns 34 on 3rd dec)

Autumn Afternoons

A mug of hot tea and cookies from my favourite patisserie.

Nina Simone on the hi-fi and a light breeze from the balcony.

No one at home but me.

My idea of a lovely autumn afternoon.

Grousing

Let me add two new items to my list of pet peeves.

#1
I love helping people but that doesn't mean you can treat me like a 24-hour mobile translation service. my zeal for accumulating good karma by assisting those in need does not involve translating a ten-point CV at 1am in the morning via my mobile phone. just try imagining the amount of english text i have to input letter by letter on a tiny keypad before you even think about asking for help. or at the very least give me more time.
also, the fact that i can understand japanese doesnt mean i am at your disposal for all tasks to do with japan and japanese. that includes writing requests for franchise rights to japanese retail chains and reading your medicine bottles.
#2
It's fine if you don't usually contact me, because there's always the excuse about me being away from Singapore. it's also fine that you only chose to email me when you've broken up with your longtime girlfriend. nevermind the fact that i heard nothing from you thereafter and had to find out from other people that you managed to salvage the relationship eventually.
so if i'm the person that you only very occasionally contact, why am i the first on the list of free lodging options when you are considering holiday destinations? for crying out loud, you asked me if snow has accumulated in okinawa because you wanted to ski. at the very least try finding out a little bit more about the place that you are intending to visit instead of deciding your options on the amount of free mileage you have and the number of friends you can impose on.
my home is a hotel to my friends but that decision lies with me. oh, and by the way, i hated all your jokes and jibes about okinawa. the only time i'm letting you come here is after i've moved away for good.

My 100th Post

To commemorate, I thought I'd come clean with certain things that have been on my mind.

I was at tower records last saturday (the only place in okinawa i know of that is kind enough to allow customers, or non-buyers like me, to browse through US editions of fashion magazines) catching up on my monthly fill of fashion and gossip taking place on the other side of the world when i came across my horoscope in the november issue of harpers bazaar.

i dont normally read horoscopes and i never thought i'd believe in them, but for some reason i had stopped at the page on my way to the fashion spread. the horoscope read:

"A period of private review helps clarify your goals and philosophy, but don't lose touch with those who give good advice. If you are engaged in studies, long-distance and travel issues bring with them big news. Dreams are large and may strip down your bank account, but financial prudence can enable future fulfilment of desires."

this might be me over-thinking things again, but when i read it i was sure i had an epiphany.

but before that, lets just back up for a minute and review my present situation.

yes, after i graduate next march i have absolutely no plans for what's to happen next.

i turned down a job offer in september and while working in okinawa is still very much an option, the less-than-competitive job conditions here means that job-searching will involve a large degree of compromise on my part.

i say i want to go to america but i really am unsure about when it will really happen. it isnt the amount of preparation that scares me, but the lack of financial freedom that comes with a student's lifestyle that does. on the other hand, if i were to marry ken and settle in okinawa, i am afraid that america might just never ever materialise.

then again, marriage isnt on the cards and i dont know what ken is thinking. i am hopeful on one hand but am also fearing the worst.

i have decided on going home next march but i have no idea what my return will mean. i dont know how long i will stay and i dont know what sort of options i should be considering during my time in singapore.

so there, i have found myself in quite a situation. ideally speaking i would have liked to mull over a set of smaller, less frightful options in the final year before i turn 30, but then again i realise you can only plan for so much. life can pretty much spiral out of your hands even as you think things are proceeding according to plan.

my epiphany? for all the uncertainty that awaits me, i have decided that the best way to deal with it would be to embrace whatever that is to happen. despite the inertia that comes with taking the path less travelled, i have also found the reason why i shouldnt be giving up on my american dream.

my knowledge matters to me and so does my love for okinawa. there has to be a way i can put the two together and create something positive. i believe that the wrongs of this place should be put right, and perhaps i might have a role to play in educating people about this part of japan that so few people really care to learn more about.

america will happen with or without marriage and kids.
in the meantime, i will devote all my efforts towards my thesis and continue loving my man.
everything else, i'm leaving in the hands of time.

Amusement

Just when you think the state of English in Japan cannot possibly get any worse, this arrives in your letterbox.

the irony? the guy who sent the wedding invitation actually majored in english in university.

made myself a jumbo sandwich the other day and crammed it full of lettuce, bacon, sliced tomatoes and topped it off with a sunny side-up and cheese. it's hard eating a sandwich this size without messing things up but i was kept full the entire day!

Happy Birthday

A man's 30th birthday should be celebrated with pomp and passion so I pulled out all the stops.

thesis presentation notwithstanding, i booked us a hotel stay at a spa hotel and packed an overnight bag without ken's knowledge. when we got there i told him it was just a spa appointment and he actually believed it.

there was dinner kaiseki style, a surprise birthday cake and buffet breakfast the following morning.

with all the smiles and adoration i earned, i'd say the pricetag and effort were all worth it.

happy birthday ken!

Caution: Spoiler Ahead!

Everyone knows about the new SATC sequel, but if the buzz around the movie is anything to go by, the new installment might be disappointing for some fans.

apparently, big loses a huge chunk of cash from the financial turmoil after the crash of lehmann brothers and the result is some unhealthy spousal squabble between the finally-weds.

charlotte walks out on harry with her two daughters after she accuses him of having an affair with their new nanny.

miranda, on the other hand, quits partner at the law firm after getting embroiled in a breach of privacy issue at work and tries to set up a restaurant with steve.

and samantha might end up in UAE with a new foreign lover.

side-plot wise, carrie's all-time gay friend stanford might just be marrying anthony, charlotte's two-time wedding planner.

a lot of meat for the new film, but i really dont want to see miranda quitting her job or big and carrie fighting again.

sometimes i wish they would just leave a good series as it is instead of subjecting the four women to a circus of tribulation. (and yes, i talk as if these women are real.)

more real-time SATC spoilers here.

Fashion Roadkill

You know, we've all had days like these.

a quick run to the supermarket or gas station beckons so we run out of the house barefaced, oily skin and blemishes exposed, with an untidy ponytail and mismatched clothing to boot. we think to ourselves: who cares what other people think? it's just five minutes and no one even looks anyway.

then we find ourselves wanting to shrink into nothingness when a perfectly coiffed, groomed and attired lady stands behind us at the checkout counter, smelling of roses and waiting to pay for her organic tea and plain yoghurt while we're lugging a huge basket of frito lays, instant noodles and a family-sized carton of ice cream.

and if instead of the lady there had been a gorgeous man queueing behind us, we'd be feeling a lot more sorry for ourselves.

looks like lindsay is having one of my days:

change of topic but this is what alexander mcqueen came up with for new york fashion week recently.
if not for the legs sticking out from those things i wouldnt have known they were shoes.

Stuff

Thought the nice people who read my blog might like a look at my life as it unfolds.

here's a picture of my work desk right in the heat of action:

most people know that i love my chicken, and when stress levels climb, the girl must find ways to get her mitts on some good poultry.

here is what i made for dinner last night:

there were six wings in total and i finished them all!!

If We Lived in a Perfect World...

I would say yes when you tell me you want to move somewhere far away.

And you would leave with me too if I chose to go away.

No one gets left behind. In a perfect world, that is.

Dreams

Last night I dreamed of someone I havent met in the longest time.

we were almost best friends in secondary school. by "almost" i mean i wasnt meant to be her BFF because she was already promised to another. the realization that we were never going to be exclusive best friends upset me and made me jealous of the other girl, who was naturally, as do most stories go, bright, talented and popular.

but we were close. and she shared with me the details of her every crush, the one where she fell in love with the back view of a boy she happened to be on a tour bus with while she was holidaying in indonesia with her family being the most memorable of all.

i was always at her house, an apartment in geylang with its very own elevator landing that opened up into the living room. she had a poodle named alpha, and while i was never a big fan of poodles i cried along with her when alpha died.

she loved keanu reeves and boyzone, so we watched every movie that keanu reeves starred in and i listened while she raved about the latest boyzone single.

then when we left secondary school, she started a relationship with a boy she met every morning in the train on her way to junior college and i met my first boyfriend in school. we were young and didnt know anything about juggling priorities in love, school and friendship, so we drifted apart.

for the next six or seven years our contact was reduced to the random phone call, the rare text message. she quit JC and switched to polytechnic while i entered university. from there, our paths forked.

a year before i was to come to okinawa, she asked me out to dinner. it turned out that her relationship with her divorced boss crumbled when he fell for the new secretary, and she was looking to rebuild her friendships, which she said she had neglected over the past years. but for some reason, dinner didnt blossom into a resurrected friendship and until today, i still dont know why we never became more than almost-best friends.

ten years on and we've moved on to new friendships and new lives. last night's dream reminded me of how straightforward everything used to be. perhaps it's because i've forgotten what it's like to think simple. or maybe it's because some friendships dont last past a certain expiry date.

in any case, i do hope she is doing fine.

Life

If anyone knows what the phrase "living your life" actually means, I'd be more than happy to find out.

open to suggestions on how to "life my life" without worrying about money, separation, unfulfilled promises or broken dreams.

Random Tidbits

Everyone living on their own has a few tricks up their sleeves on how to clear leftover food from the fridge.

so far, my favourite solutions are fried rice (anything and everything goes!), stir-fried noodle dishes and sandwiches.

the other day i had a box of rapidly dying mini tomatoes, some rocket lettuce leaves, frozen minced meat and a slice of cheese. so i turned it into taco rice, the okinawan take on mexican tacos. i didnt have worcestershire sauce at home, so i substituted with oyster sauce and it still works. plus it's healthy so i didnt have to feel bad about finishing the entire plate on my own.

in between daily stabs of painful torture also known as thesis-writing, i have taken comfort in trying on the new shades of nail polish that i bought from the face shop on my last trip to singapore.

cheap, fast, good and goes on easy. it actually looks like i had it professionally done if you dont look at it too close.

War With Words

The girl in Hongkong just got her first Holga, and the other in California is going to football games and making yoghurt.

i'm just the one here with my laptop, thinking of saving the world by wielding the pen (or the keys of my computer or whatever).

i still havent used the brand new oven i bought, and i think that while i can slice carrots and other vegetables better now my cooking still sucks. and i want to take pottery and teach english to the community too. why is it that even though my days have been taken over by the massive torture of writing a thesis i am still stung by the fear of being unproductive?

i mean really, is sitting in the grad room for hours on end that meaningful to the rest of the human population? lately i realised that the so-called pursuit of knowledge is a narcissistic endeavour, an exercise to please the self. i claim that my work shall make known the conditions in okinawa and help make it a better place, but the truth of the matter is, the only people who are ever going to read my thesis are my supervisors, the teachers who have to grade it and possibly two other kind-hearted souls who share my field of research.

if i am so keen on taking on the role of mother theresa i should really just go out and get my hands dirty. this is perhaps the very reason why activism never went down well with academicism.

The Pledge

One Newpaper article from Veena about the 822 Pledge Moment generated some minor controversy, most of it caused by this guy called Alvin, who said something about Veena not having the right to talk what it means to be singaporean because she just got her citizenship a year ago.

when challenged, mr. ambiguous maintained that he wasnt making a personal attack on veena, but i read his blog post over and over again and it still stinks of defamation. anyway, i dont claim to write as well as the man so i guess it's possibly the language thing marring my understanding of his views.

if mr. ambiguous is right in saying that veena doesnt understand what it means to live under the laws and requirements of singapore citizenship, then it might follow that we as singaporeans wont be able to fathom how veena feels about gaining official acceptance in the form of a pink IC after 17 long years of living as a long-term resident in this country.

naming yourself one in the "10% of the population who dares to provide an alternate view" ("the view that too many Singaporeans are too afraid, or too ignorant to have", mind you), doesnt serve as justification for having exclusionist and dismissive opinions. i would given him more credit if he had phrased it in a nicer way, but now he simply sounds as if he's pointing a finger at the rest of us and calling us a herd of sheep. in short, you dont earn the privilege of spouting disparaging remarks just by playing the "I'm so different from all you other people" card.

for all its worth, us "90% people" sometimes dont see the point of engaging in debate about issues like this because they will always be people like alvin telling us what we know and how we feel. and guess what? it's not because we dont know any better. it's really just because we dont see the need to justify the fact that we HAVE opinions.

even if i were in singapore, i wouldnt have taken part in the pledge moment because like someone already mentioned, it would just reek of campaign farcity, the kind the government is very good at creating (speak mandarin, dont spit or litter, be courteous, the whole lot). but i checked to see if i remembered the words and i found myself pleasantly surprised that i still do. not wanting to place my hand across my right breast and say the pledge come national day doesnt mean that i dont believe in its contents. the words of the pledge are not conveyed merely as a means to an ends, rather it is a reminder of all the ideals that we should strive for as a nation.

too many of us cling to the tendency of identifying our country with its government. singapore is not, and will never be all about PAP. once we fall into the trap of making that assumption, everything will seem immutable. remember that we are only 44 years into independence. democracy and all the things we think we should strive for as a people are achievable if we know that a country is really about its people. the fact that LDP lost its stronghold in the japanese cabinet this summer after 55 long years; the fact that america only saw its first black president in 2008 is enough food for thought.

i am not blind to the flaws of my country and i do not always approve of the plans adopted by my government. but i do know for a fact that people like us, those were born and bred in singapore, sometimes take our citizenship for granted. maybe even someone like alvin.

Notes From the Bridezilla

Okay, it's 9.51pm and I'm still stuck in the grad room, but I HAVE to tell everyone about this.

as usual i was surfing the brides.com website for some late-night R&R and i chanced upon this! carolina herrera's collection for spring 2010!

herrera's my favourite gown designer, but her pieces cost 10,000 sgd and upwards so i'm really just building sandcastles in the air here. but with this latest collection, she has just succeeded in outdoing herself, and almost every other top designer showing this season. wedding dresses are not usually the medium where designers can allow their imagination to roam free; most women would never risk looking too different on their big day so gowns are always designed according to the tried-and-tested silhouettes and made with safe fabrics. hence, the "see-them-once-seen-them-all" surfeit effect you get when you flip through bridal magazines these days.

with herrera this season however, she has managed to turn every gown into an art piece. each dress is named after a prominent painter, and all the pieces so beautifully personify the essence of the artist. check out the monet, with the layers of tulle that feature handpainted waterlilies. every gown says a lot about the woman who wears them, and it is amazing how herrera manages to craft such interesting storylines and details from a single dress.

Summer Beckons

Ken and I decided to leave our mundane lives behind for a very short one and half-day getaway to Nago, which is about 70 km north of where we stay.

the weather was good, the hotel was surprisingly comfortable and the beaches offered some much-needed respite from his work and my thesis-churning. all it took was 35 hours away from the humdrum and we were back to where/who we were six years ago.

we packed a barbeque set and two camping chairs, stocked up on the meat and drinks and returned to the same island we camped at in 2007. while we had company on our private beach the form of a father and three-sons team along the other end of the shore, it turned out to be a good thing because their lamp provided just enough illumination for us when our own bonfire died out.

after dinner we sat on the shore and competed to see who could spot the most number of shooting stars.

i saw one, and he claimed he saw two stars colliding.

the next day we played with fishes in the hotel's stretch of beach and relaxed with a sauna and dip in the hot bath. ken had his very first facial while i waited with a copy of the newspaper.

on our way home we managed to catch the sunset.

someday all short trips would be made this way.

The view from our hotel room:

The one with Ken looking like Sha Wujing in Journey to the West:


The lighthouse at Cape Zampa:
Sunset from Zampa:

Nothing To Say.

Marriage. Babies. Career.

when your friends are busy chalking up the milestones of their lives, you find yourself wondering what sort of achievement you're actually after.

then you realise for all the things you think you possess, everything is worth crap when the cards are played and your hand is shown.

i am going to be 30 in a year and they are trying to shove 170,000 yen down my throat. how do i explain this to myself?

serinah, here is your present and future.

no marriage. no babies and yes, no career either.

Total Solar Eclipse

I actually witnessed the eclipse from my bedroom.

we could only see up to 92% of the eclipse in okinawa, but the experience was extremely surreal nevertheless.

the skies darkened and the temperature fell, even the birds and cicadas went quiet.

here are some pictures taken on my mobile phone.

Wanted: Japanese Only

Excuse me, if you've noticed I'm not Japanese.
if it's not too much to ask, can i be measured against some form of internationally-accepted standards instead of those horridly unforgiving japanese yardsticks that you insist on using?

listen to this.

remember the recruitment examination on the names of forests and mountains that I flunked? turns out very few of my 469 other competitors made it to the final round so guess what? according to some reliable sources, the company is facing a critical dearth of non-japanese staff so they are still hiring and the invitation for resumes is still very much open.

there are a million and one ways of getting around the issue but they will never choose to bend their silly rules. lower your passing mark for that stupid test and you'd instantly have more applicants to choose from. or why dont you just make passing the forest-naming exam a non-complusory requirement? wouldnt you want to actually MEET the people keen on joining your firm to find out how interesting they are in person instead of basing your decision on how well they can regurgitate the names and locations of all the natural heritage sites in japan?

someone suggested i send in my resume again.

honey, you gotta be kidding me. i'd be stupid to join a company as inflexible as this one.

listen to this one too.

i went for yet another recruitment exam two saturdays ago, this time for an up-and-coming institute of science and technology looking for applicants proficient in english to serve in positions that cater to the needs of their mostly-foreign research team. we were required to fill out our applications in english and everything about the place suggested that they were open to foreigners.

48 people were shortlisted for the exam, a fact i regarded as proof of their stringent hiring requirements. the moment i opened the test booklet though, my hopes crashed. not only were the questions wored in japanese, there was a mammoth section on what the japanese call non-verbal SPI, a collection of mathematically-inclined tasks aimed at testing your analytical and logical abilities.

there were a number of foreign applicants at the exam, and most of them walked out upon seeing the contents of the test because they could not read japanese. i was one of the three non-japanese who decided on attempting the exam. throughout the paper i thought i would gain a foothold over the other applicants as long as i tried to complete the section worded in japanese and scored higher marks in the english proficiency test that was to follow.

i was so wrong.

the english test was primary school level at best, with sentences like "mr. stein spotted an emu in his backyard and fed it dog food". i didnt know whether to feel insulted or disappointed.

everyone knows i CANNOT do mathematics for nuts. but i know for sure that i am good at my job, and that im good enough for the institute. but at the very end of the day, it seems that as long as you have practised every ten-year series there is on that darn SPI crap and you can understand phrases like "emu" and "backyard", you're considered good enough.

i have actual, related experience from my previous job but no one's going to take that into consideration because i couldnt pass their stupid SPI rubbish.

again someone suggested i brush up my SPI skills.

if i am to be judged on how well i can count, then i suggest you go fly kite because this foreigner is not going to contort herself to conform to that narrow set of requirements deemed valuable to a japanese employer.

it's time they did it our way anyway.

Get Up

This is going to be my theme song until I finish the darn thesis.

Fed Up

No, I don’t drink. And no, I won’t have any even if you force it down my throat.

It’s a matter of choice. I choose not to get red-faced or pissed drunk because I like it that way. It’s never about money because chances are I already have more of that than you do.

By the way, even though I don’t drink, I know my Merlots from my Cabernet Sauvignons. You don’t have to be able to drink to have general knowledge.

On Wednesday night I had to endure one of the most trying experiences of my life when I was dragged to a wine party by an extremely pushy girl who happened to be my tutor.

This young lady, all of 21 years of age, was assigned to be my helping hand by my academic supervisor, who was worried that his very first foreign student might have difficulty adjusting to the new environment in Okinawa. Although there was never really a pressing need to ask for her help, I relished the opportunity to make a new friend, but our age difference sometimes made communication difficult so we gradually stopped meeting each other on a frequent basis.

Two months ago she called with an invitation to a wine party held by the boss of a firm she was interning at and I finally relented after running out of excuses not to turn up.

That decision turned out to be for the worst.

She told me there would be wine, a “sumptuous dinner” and “plenty of opportunities for networking” so I simply assumed that the event would be held at a restaurant. Instead, my tutor, who was already heady at half past 8 in the evening from drinking too much wine, showed me to the spartan premises of an office that looked suspiciously like a temporary set-up.

The moment the door opened, I wanted to leave. What she termed a “wine party” was in actual fact a collection of two men and three women cramped uncomfortably into sofas that were adjacent to a lone armchair where the boss was seated. There was wine all right, but the only food on the table were thin slices of tomato with mozzarella and tuna pesto.

One male staff member was wearing an apron and made to serve drinks and food while the rest of them engaged in pointless banter. The boss, a porky man with a punch perm and ugly teeth, tried to impress the women with tidbits from his money-making seminars and oily invitations to his company’s summer house in Karuizawa.

Turns out the man makes his dough from selling hogwash to people who didn’t know any better, and my tutor probably fell for it and thought she was hobnobbing with society’s upper crust. The women were assembled by my tutor on her boss’s instructions and all of them were young and very impressionable. They were all wide-eyed and hanging breathlessly to the boss’s every word, and I was sitting there wondering what on earth was wrong with them. The two other men, who turned out to be interns at the firm, retold an experience when they were pawed by tai-tais when they were parading at a fashion show arranged by the boss.

I lasted for one exquisitely painful hour and mumbled an excuse to leave.

To add insult to injury, I was asked to pay 2000 yen for two slices of tomato that I ate and the wine that I didn’t drink.

The final piece de resistance? She actually had the gall to advise me to send a personal email to the boss to “thank him for the kind invitation” because “that’s basic business courtesy in Japan”.

To put things straight, I PAID for my torture that night. He should be thanking me instead for wasting my time on his shady party. And no one needs to lecture me on Japanese business customs because that was all I did for four years in Singapore. My thank-yous are reserved for those who deserve it, not some oily man bent on getting young girls drunk on cheap wine.

My tutor called me twice the next day after she realized that I didn’t heed her advice on sending the email to her boss. I didn’t pick up her calls and I probably won’t ever do so again in future. Half of me wanted to tell her she’s in for a shock, but watching her waxing lyrical over her glass of wine, it might already be too little too late.

Man of Our Time

He may have been an awkward genius, but the legend deserves a proper send-off.

Bad and Thriller are timeless, but this is my all-time favourite.

さよなら

僕が生きる今日は、
もっと生きたかった誰かの明日かもしれないから。
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　－かりゆし５８

相づち

ちなみに、私の得意の相づちは「なるほどねぇ～」。

The News

The news came in the mail.

My recruitment exam with 469 other people? I didn't make it.

Dang.

Good Enough

He doesn't put my friends down in front of me. I know he respects me when he respects my friends.

now that i'm temporarily back home, i have had to rely on my old nokia to stay in touch. i stumbled upon a folder of his messages that i saved during the year and a half when we were dating long-distance and i realised he told me he loved me every day that we were apart.

i dont know that many men who can do the chicken dance and play the air guitar while prancing around the living room half-naked.

he believes in me more than i believe in myself. and i can do the things i do because he places his trust in me.

he is honest with me when something goes wrong; and for that i am growing to become a better person.

he keeps me real and grounds me to the things that really matter.

for all the things i say he doesn't do, he could be good enough.

and there can be no one else because i only ever want to be loved by him.

Signs

How do we find love?
If only we knew how to look for the signs.

A very heartwarming short film. Do find the time to watch this.

Part One


Part Two

Rain On Your Parade

I guess everyone has a rain soundtrack.

Sam listens to Sakamoto Ryuichi, and I have Keith Jarrett. This album features a solo Jarrett on the piano reworking jazz classics. Every song is a gem, but this one goes especially well with the sound of rain falling on the window panes.

Shoe String Budget

What do you do when times are bad and you find yourself cash-strapped?

fashionistas in japan arent about to sacrifice on shopping, they're just making sure that their money goes a longer way.

enter g.u., a new fashion retailer whose main marketing strategy is to provide clothing that is cheaper than uniqlo's. while uniqlo's entry into singapore is probably rocking some boats over at home, the japanese seem to have already moved on to this new kid on the block.

this summer g.u. aims to arm-wrestle a good part of uniqlo's lion share of the budget fashion market by releasing a entire range of coordinates that cost a mere 990 yen. imagine jeans that cost just about as much as a movie ticket in singapore.

now if only they'd expand into okinawa as well.

The Black Tide

For the past year I have been attending lessons that are designed to turn an alien species like me into something suitable for the host environment, better known by its popular name, the Japanese Business Corporation.

After weekly lessons in business japanese and ettiquette, i am just about ready to be released into the wild. can i hold a proper telephone conversation in fluent business japanese? maybe. do i know how to do a polite (read: self-deprecatingly humble) self-introduction in japanese upon request? yes. can i bow like a true japanese salaryman? hell YES.

does this mean the alien shall soon be allowed into the native population with little fear that its natural instinct to speak its mind and ignorance for the honne/tatemae divide might very well upset the balance so painstakingly preserved within the japanese office?

on sunday this alien found herself in an environment that defied almost all of her expectations. 470 undergraduates disguised as competent job seekers complete with dark suits and stiff white shirts thronged the ballrooms of a downtown hotel in what was a recruitment examination for a popular homegrown tour agency.

i thought getting shortlisted was an honour, or least an affirmation that the people at HR liked what they saw in my resume, but the mere sight of the black mass climbing the stairs to the exam venue put an end to my wishful thinking.

whoever thought that job searching in japan would turn into such a carnival? the test paper was full of questions about names of rivers and forests in japan, in addition to specific settings of japanese literature classics.

im not particularly proud to admit this, but my GK is probably close to zero and despite having studied for the test i was at a painful loss. i ended up trying my luck in the multiple choice section and filling up the empty brackets with random kanji, and getting shortlisted for the interview round would probably be a miracle since my 469 other competitors would have known the name of that darn forest up north in the tohoku area.

results shall be out on june 20th so i shall posting updates.

Ambition

Please, entertain my whims and ask me who I would like to become.

Perhaps it's an answer only valid for today, but it would have to be Christina Ong.

If They Looked Like Bunnies

The thing is probably creeping around my house right this very moment, trying out my sofa, exploring my cupboards and strolling past the bottles and jars in my kitchen.

It was 1.30am and all it took was one cockroach to throw me completely off balance. i was almost ready for bed when i saw it in the study. the moment i reached for the light it decided to take flight so i panicked and hurriedly shut the door.

i did contemplate summoning my courage to kill it, but it wasnt something i could have done alone. i thought about shutting the doors to the other rooms and going to bed, but there was no way i could have slept through the thought of sharing my apartment with a cockroach.

my wallet, phone, driving licence and everything else that was essential was in the room where the cockroach was, so going in was never an option.

i stood outside the closed door, running through a list of unappetizing choices. i've always had an inexplicable fear for cockroaches, and back home in singapore, all i had to do was scream for my father and he would always take care of things. last night was probably the farthest i felt from my family and i literally felt trapped in my own house.

so i did the only thing a person in my position would have done.

i grabbed the car keys and an umbrella and headed for ken's mom's.

yesterday was the start of the rainy season in okinawa and i had the headlights on high beam because the rain was so heavy i couldnt see a thing. funny what adrenaline does to a person. as i was driving it suddenly crossed my mind that i was driving without my international permit, and if i had gotten into an accident i would have had to tell the cops i was running away from a cockroach.

it was 3am when i reached his mom's apartment. she thought something terrible had happened, and when i explained the situation she laughed and tucked me into bed.

after a fitful night's sleep i proffered my sheepish apology and headed straight for the drugstore. i now have two huge cans of insecticide and a year's supply of bug-killing paraphernalia. the entire kit cost me close to 3,000 yen and i am praying that it all works. if i am lucky i wont need to kill it myself. if i had my wish it might just show up dead in the morning.

i can pretty much do most things on my own, but cockroaches just get to me every single time. to be honest, the idea of sky-diving is actually a lot more palatable than killing the bugger sitting at home right now.

if only they looked a little more like bunnies.

Seeing Double

Pedicure packages.

That new watering hole at Dempsey's.

Yoga classes.

Bitching about work.

Shopping at Orchard.

Dinner at the hawker centre.

Cheap movies.

Maybe, just maybe, I'd be happy for all of two weeks. Do I really want the things I say I miss?

It's already a different life.

Blame It

Yup, it's all about the job.

the job that eats up the best part of your waking hours, turns you into a paranoid ball of nerves when you discover a file-sharing tool in your computer and made you gain ten kilos in less than a year.

blame it on the job. blame it on the fact that you're tired. blame it on me.

when you work i/we take a backseat. the sun is shining and spring is beckoning but you have to sleep so i while away the afternoon tip-toeing around the house because i dont want to wake you.

when you work it's like romance never existed. a woman is for cleaning the house, ferrying you around and fixing you dinner.

i am giving you a hard time. i am pushing you into a corner. i am asking for too much.

what are you giving me then? a car to always feel sorry for, a house too big and too old to clean by myself, or lonely dinners i have with the TV?

the tub of a man needs to seriously reconsider his rapidly decreasing number of options.

S-Factor??

I'm sorry but I seem to be missing out on something HUGE taking place on my island.

there's a show called S-Factor with girls in bikinis on channel 5?

judging from what i've seen from the following clip, it is safe to say that we have officially hit rock-bottom.

Road to Kin

“People should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people. The building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. Alone, a symbol is meaningless, but with enough people, blowing up a building can change the world. “
- V for Vendetta

I don’t know if this movie generated enough fanfare back home, but it earns a place in my personal top ten. Natalie Portman’s British accent is weak and inconsistent at best, but V’s eloquence is probably the biggest reason why Portman’s character fell in love with the mask of Guy Fawkes. Any more information and I’d be spoiling it for you.

If every day of the world’s life had a name, the one for today would be “feisty”.

I took the green mobile out on a ride up north to meet two very spirited old ladies in what was my first official field research outing. It was also my virgin ride alone on the toll expressway, and I was given very specific instructions by the man to “go at 60, keep left and watch the road”.

Words by a wise man with a gold driver’s licence (they give it out to people with a 5-year accident-free record).

(Wait. Doesn’t scratching the entire left side of the car against a wall count as an accident?)

I ended up staring at the back end of a delivery truck as I trundled along the highway, watching the other cars happily whizzing past me in the rain. My over-zealous plan to arrive on time worked too perfectly; I was an hour and a half too early, but that did nothing to dampen my triumphant mood at completing my first-ever long-distance drive.

In the end, the interview lasted for five hours. For most of it, I felt as if I had spent an afternoon in the home of two chatty grand-aunties that I’ve always had a soft spot for. They told me of how their parents had taken their entire fortunes and crossed the ocean to the Philippines, livestock in tow, in the search of a better life. They recounted how as children they picked coconuts and fruit in Mindanao, and how they scrambled for rations given out by the GIs in wartime Okinawa after the escalating Pacific War forced their families to flee the Philippines and return home.

These two women come from Kin, a sleepy town 25 kilometers north of Naha, where 60% of the town’s total land area is occupied by a massive US military facility. This town was also the place where the kidnapping and brutal rape of a local 12-year-old girl by three US military servicemen took place in 1995. Just last month, a stray bullet from an army live firing exercise ricocheted off the license plate of a car parked at a residential apartment just meters from the military base.

The Americans obviously knew how they could make the locals tolerate them being too close for comfort right in the middle of the town’s most arable and fertile land. Money never fails to quell displeasure, and every year hundreds of millions of yen flow from the hands of Japanese taxpayers to the US army and into the palms of waiting Kin folk.

The women of Kin soon found themselves deprived of the military payments when the male representatives of the local residents’ community altered the rules to fatten their own pockets and prevent females from getting their share of the money. Rattled, the women banded together and took their male counterparts to court. They won the first lawsuit, lost the second and earned what they were hoping for in the final appeal to the Supreme Court.

As I listened to their stories I suddenly realized that these two women who were the same age as my own grandmother were talking passionately about human rights and gender equality. And I thought women of my age knew better.

In a time when the young women of the world are busy equating material affluence and economic independence with emancipation and empowerment, I found myself speaking to two living examples of what feminism should really be representing – relentless challenge of the status quo and the desire for justice and the things that should truly be.

They expressed their surprise at how a foreigner like me could be interested in the affairs of a small town so far removed from the eyes of the world. I balked at the awe they bestowed, humbled by the richness of their life experiences and the strength of their spirits.

In a Minah Mood

Don't mind me, it's the breeze lulling me to sleep and I am feeling minah-ish today.

kind of miss the minahs manning those tiny shops in far east plaza.

Love Sex Magic

Justin Timberlake is getting too cosy with Ciara! There is officially no more N'Sync left in that man.

Jessica Biel, be angry. Be very angry.

Health Check

Clean bill of health.

Height: 157 cm (i am shrinking!)

Weight: 42kg (where's all the food going?)

Blood pressure: 103/76 (isnt this a little on the low side?)

Eyesight: deteriorating

Hearing: perfect

i could really do with some more flesh on my bones. any skinnier and my eyes might look as if they are popping out of their sockets.

Love is Art

J:

Stands for the power of secret thinking and the art of making wishes come true. Ever the intrepid traveller, she will fly to faraway destinations, even if it is just for the sake of doing nothing in particular with a few like-minded friends. Lover of straight talk and sound advice dished out in the form of bitter medicine, J will quicken your step with ninja impersonations (in Japan's most sacred shrine no less) and offers to carry your luggage in her gigantic silver Jac-in-the-Box.

She swept in and out of our days like a summer typhoon (J would insist her stay was more like that of a sperm whale but i really dont see the connection), colouring our trip with bats of her kohl-lined lids and her take on love, life and friendship.

Some things, however, dont ever change. like how J would still want to hurry back to the hotel to wash her hair even though it is now shortly cropped, or how we all try to look for yomogay in japanese bakeries.

XY:

Stands for "lean-on-me-i-will-take care-of-you" rock of gilbrator-worthy reliablity dressed with a healthy dose of mothering. i heeded her advice and turned off my inner GPS, content with following her stride.

her love of all things strawberry is cleverly juxtaposed against a nearly all-black ensemble and dark nail polish, but a quick look at her dressing table revealed what i always knew. pink cheek tint, berry lipgloss, Daisy perfume.

there is a girl in XY, and her feet will be swept off the ground by a man who knows and sees her for the person that she really is. XY only needs to believe.

R:

Stands for sheer gumption and the ability to deal with personal contingencies that is impossible for me to summon. hokkaido might be cold and sometimes unfeeling, but R's laughter is really the kind that would melt even the hardest of stones.

R is really not as clumsy as she thinks she is, although love for one's husband is best practised with a lot of care and caution. the next time a snowy mountain beckons, R really needs to tell herself that she will go home safe and happy.

R couldnt join us on our trip, but we thought of her every step of the way. hope she liked the package we sent her.

The Four of Us:

Stands for comic tension, endless conversation, blankets of comfort and rose-tinted friendships.

Love is indeed Art.

Warwick Avenue

The girls are on to something.

this is probably duffy at her best and i really think her tears are heartbreaking.

White Cows Never Looked This Good

The all-new leather tote from Burberry. Saks is selling it for US$995, but let's see if I can locate it in Nagoya and try it on for size.

友情ってもっと格好悪くてもいいのに

ほったらかしてからすでに七ヶ月が経ってしまったのだ。

仲がとっても良かったので、ずっと葛藤で悩んでいた。「これでいいの？」って何回も自分に言い返した。結局、あきらめることを選んだのだ。

大人になったせいなのかよく分からないけど、年をとればとるほど素朴な人間関係を求めるようになった。恋人とはそうだし、もちろん友情に対しても同じ期待があった。

「素朴」とは、飾りのない、単純でまっすぐな気持ちが込められているということだろう。
つまり、素直に自分と向き合えるとのこと。

素朴な友情なら、本当のことを言えるはずなのだ。誠実に気持ちを伝えられるはずだ。
友達の前に自然に振舞うことができなければ、その友情は一体何なんだろう？

いまさら謝っても元に戻れないような気がする。悩みが増える一方だけだ。

The Fried Mascot

Do something wrong and you might be struck bald by lightning, just like what happened to the Merlion.

Being a mascot has never been more dangerous.

Faintly interesting, this.

Bumper Crop

And so the last Peter Pan graduates from Neverland and asks the fairy for her hand.

it seems that everyone around me is either getting married or being proposed too, and the prospect of becoming a later bloomer (or worse, a non-bloomer) is making its presence felt in very real terms.

i am 29. i should be starting on anti-wrinkle and cellulite-busting creams. i might be 40 when my kid enters primary school. my skin will eventually sag and so will the rest of my body. wedding gowns don't go well with ageing brides. i need a reason to keep staying on this island.

so in order to hasten the natural progression of things, it makes sense that i ask him about our plans for the future.

or so people think.

this is almost silly to admit, but the bridezilla in me craves for The Moment. the instant when the man gives you that i-am-so-nervous-i-can-almost-die-right-here look, the split second he goes down on one knee, his fumbling fingers opening the ring box, the constriction in your throat and that life-changing, teary "yes" that you immediately whisper.

i want all of that. and i am not about to sabotage The Moment for myself by broaching the topic first. what's the point of a proposal if there is no surprise element or no fireworks exploding across the sky?

the man formerly known as peter pan proposed over an evening of newspaper reading in the living room with no ring. most couples do the job with a trip to HDB. i am fully aware that my own proposal would be less than earth-shaking, but still, i insist on being bowled-over. i want to be able to look at the man when asked that all-important question and know for sure that the path i choose to walk down will be the right one to take.

romance has never been a good friend of reality so i really dont care if i am candy-coating weddings and marriages. but yes, i will heed the advice of those concerned and learn to make my intentions known, albeit in small and discreet ways.

other than that, i shall be right here waiting for my one-carat tiffany ring and my man on bended knee.