Childhood joy!

Yes, it is indeed back! This is Arctic Roll, my absolute favourite frozen food when I was a little kid. We were poor then, and a roll had to last the whole family. It was a special treat that doesn't come by often. We would slice it very carefully so that everyone gets a slice that is of equal thickness. Every slice was treated with reverence, and every crumb, precious. In fact, I loved it so much I would lick the plate after my slice was gone, to make sure that not one iota of it was wasted.

Bird's Eye had stopped its production in 1997 but revived it in December 2008. I saw it at the supermarket yesterday and was like, hmm, oh well, my brother remarked that we don't have a Xmas cake this year, so let's just eat this then.

But then, I had the first slice, and it was damn good! I haven't felt so good eating anything for a long while, and I havent been able to stop eating it. *burp*. Oh, the joy of rediscovering a childhood treat and to find that it still has that oomph!

Merry little Christmas

From those fluffy clouds, snow will never fall
Upon the congregations at the malls
But a white Christmas I need not yearn for
When what you've given means so much more

My lousy attempt at writing a Xmas rhyme, but I'm ending the year on a grateful note and wish to thank everyone who spent time with me during Xmas gatherings and who bought or even made gifts for me. Thank you so much because, yes, it really means a lot to me that I'm in your thoughts as you are in mine. :)

$$$

Yesterday, I finally bought a new violin case which is much awaited as I had been carrying one that was falling apart, week in, week out.

But instead of feeling cheerful about it, I came out of the shop a bit down. This is because, between a Korean-made case and a China one, I chose the latter, because it is cheaper. When the shop staff opened the Korean-made case for me to see, my first reaction was: "Wow, it looks so good!". But it was almost 300 bucks, more than I had budgeted for.

I also bought a metronome and a mute and chose the cheaper (and inferior) version for both. I felt like a poor kid who has picked up an expensive hobby.

Recently, I finally got around to calculating how much my savings total up to, and it fell short of even my low expectations.

"What did you spend your money on?", my sister asked. I looked around my not exactly bare, but plainly furnished room, and said: "Does it look like I spend a lot?"

She looked at me for a second and said no. It's simply that I'm not earning a lot, I explained to her.

Ignorance is bliss probably shouldn't apply to financial planning, but now I'm feeling kinda worried for myself ever since I've taken stock of my savings. You know how parents always tell us how lucky our generation is compared to theirs? My father did the opposite the other day. While driving, he suddenly said that his generation had it easier than us. Look at the price of everything; look at the price of housing. Our generation is in for a difficult time, he tells me. When your parent tells you that, you know it's bad.

I wonder whether I'll ever have enough money to provide a roof over my own head. I wonder until what age I would have to work before I can call it a day. I wonder whether anyone would still want to hire me when I'm 35. Wondering never ceases...

Daydreaming

I wish I had never abandoned my childhood hobby of doodling. Because at this moment in my life, if you were to ask me what is my ambition, I would say that I wish to produce children's picture books.

Actually, I've been daydreaming of this for the past few days, imagining a two-storey shophouse, with a publishing office at the top, and a bookshop on the first floor that sells illustrated and picture books. I even feel like throwing in a cafe! I recently read that there is a bookshop that specialises in picture books at the Ann Siang Hill area, and can't wait to check it out.

And just yesterday, I got to know from my former work neighbour that the children's book that she illustrated for is now published! (http://atsi-batsi.blogspot.com/) How cool is that? How I wish that one day, I can go to her with a pile of papers and say: "Hey Yas, I have just written this story which I hope you can illustrate for me. "

Awesome music

There is such awesomeness in this world and here I am, struggling to understand chords. Drats!

When I heard this piece by Tchaikovsky, for the first time I truly appreciate the beauty and expressiveness of the violin.

If I have to put up with all the pain of mugging for theory exams to get the chance to learn to play something like this one day, dang it, I will. But right now, the pain is very real!

Itzhak Perlman, you are so good, you're badass! :)

All about food in Taiwan

Jiapalan food from the Shilin night market such as the famous 鸡排 and sausages. So-so only--was quite disappointed after hearing so much about the night market.

扁食in Hualien, 云吞to us.


We heart breakfast!

烤肉串from Hualien's night market. Long queue and highly recommended by the taxi driver. Not bad not bad, but extremely oily... -_-

Zhi char at the same night market. Singapore's is tastier, thank you.

We eat nao! Jiapalan food from Hualien, including sweet potato, beancurd, KFC and McDonald's.

Rose milk tea and mixed fruit tea at a teahouse at Jiufen.

Taiwanese bento eaten at the Taroko National Park: not really my kind of food though.

Dinner at the 五角船板 restaurant: a most satisfying meal, especially the smooth and succulent cod fish and the yummy drunken chicken rolls. The restaurant is enormous, occupying a whole building and consisting of 4 floors.

Nice pasta at the Mr J(ay Chou) cafe: I finished my big plate of aglio olio pasta (lower right), to everyone's surprise.


Crunchy prawn balls at Jiufen. Yums. We also had grilled mushrooms there, juicy and chewy!

Helper at the mushroom stall: 来试试杨过的最爱！

Us：？？？
Helper at the mushroom stall: 好吃的菇菇！
Us：......

BREAD!!! Lots of it! Need I say more?

星空

最近在学华文，所以想多用一点。这一次到台湾，姐姐和我买了好几本几米的书。第一次真正接触到他的作品是当同事送了一本《向左走，向右走》。我非常喜欢，之后便开始留意他的作品。

看他的书，感触很多。 前晚深夜，我阅读了《月亮忘记了》，读着读着，哭了。

他的故事描写了孤独的成人和小孩的世界。他把最新的作品《星空》献给无法与世界勾通的小孩。我也曾经是一个孤独的小孩。 认为父母不了解我，姐弟不喜欢我，朋友不需要我。地方太小了，没有一个容得下我的角落。

孤独的小孩现在长大成为孤独的大人，但也了解寂寞是难免的， 在孤独中有时也可以自得其乐。孤独也可以是一种自由。

只是， 为什么世上有那么多不快乐的小孩呢？美好的童年跑到哪儿去了？

Lavender Fields Forever

Sleep doesn't come easy, even with eyes closed.

When everything in life is but a supposed.

If I should dream of the answer,

may it be lavender fields forever.

Welcome to Taiwan!

This is the trip during which electronic devices fail me and I was forced to listen to the roar of the modern life. My ipod nano played dead and refused to be recharged (but of course it immediately springs to life when I anxiously connected it to the PC at home). Because of that, I had to hear the mutter and chatter of fellow passengers, but mostly the drone of cars, buses, trains and planes that we travelled on. Usually, I nod off after a while. And so I realised how music props me up and yet at the same time, how I actually can do without it.

The digital camera decided it had enough on the 3rd day and retired as well, and so while my companions were busy snapping away, I took mental pictures. Of the delicious food that we had, the quiet restaurants that we went to, the solemnity of the mountains, the Mediterranean gleam of our 民 宿 (called 境外飘流 -- loosely translated as "wanderlust". Doesn't it sound beautiful already!) in Hualien under the fierce sunlight.

Our time at Hualien is perhaps what I will miss the most. Our 民 宿 didn't come cheap, but we all thought it was worth it. There are only 4 rooms, each with a different colour and theme. My sister and I stayed in the green room called "Seeking" while her friends had the red room, "Desire". I especially loved the country style of the latter. (I will post the photos when I have it!) And in the morning, we were always served a hearty breakfast with the nicest black tea I ever had.

The owners, a Taiwanese couple, are very friendly and chatted with us about how they decided to run the 民 宿. They were originally from Taipei and decided to retire and migrate to Australia (They must be darn well-off, because they look no older than in their early 40's). However, the wife (called 小球-- OK, she does look somewhat plump) was hesitant about starting a new life in a whole new environment, and so they settled on Hualien. When the facade of their home was completed and the work on the interior was just beginning, people began to appear on their driveway to ask how much it would cost to stay there. They thought that if people like their home so much, they might as well open it up as a 民 宿, as the appeal of gardening and farming all day would wear off after a while, too.

The Taroko National Park at Hualien left an impression on me too. I've seen taller and more imposing mountains while travelling on train through the Swiss Alps, but this was the first time I've really trekked on a mountain and come so close to the real thing. I also realised I have a fear of heights. We were walking on a trail with no barriers whatsoever, and the sight (and thought) of nothing out there to separate me from the edge which reveals a deep valley below gave me a fright enough to quicken my pace considerably. But the feeling of walking through the fear was really quite good. The suspended bridge after that was a piece of cake.

All these beat the night markets and shopping for me, hands down. BUT, browsing at the bookstores was a joy. The 24-hour bookstore that I went to had little nooks and corners, platforms and steps that seemed designed to invite people to sit down and read. They even had a long table like the libraries. Try finding that in a local bookstore.

I will remember the evening in Hualien when I sat on the balcony of our room that overlook the Pacific Ocean, with eyes closed and arms behind my head. I was trying to catch the slight breeze. While listening to the very soft lapping of the ocean and the passing of the occasional vehicle, I thought of the things I want to do before I die. And I concluded that yes, there are still many fun things to do. :) To borrow from the Emirates commericals, there will always be more first times. If only work, which starts tomorrow, doesn't get in the way of living!

Be Nice to My Mother

I'm possibly my mother's least favourite child. That is something I've known a long time ago, and have accepted. Oh well, you can't be the apple of everybody's eye. We never got along too well together, and it's not deliberate on anyone's part.

I brought last night's dinner leftovers to work today for lunch in my brand new lunch box. :) As I remove the kiasu layers of plastic bag, the paper, and then the tissue paper wrapped by my mother, one thought struck me: who's going to take such pains for me again? Probably no one.

I'm possibly my mother's least favourite child, but still, her child.

A place to love

There is this travelogue with Belinda Lee as the host calle Xi1 You2 Ji4 which I really liked. She went all over the world to document the lives of Sin8aporeans who have ventured far out of our little island. There were 2 seasons if I remember correctly...and I'm rather keen to know if they have produced a DVD set out of them because I would definitely buy it.

It's the best piece of storytelling on TV that I've I watched in a while. The concept is not especially new or original but yet, the stories that come out of it are so real and close to the heart. And although I've never been impressed by hosts who cry, Belinda Lee does seem genuinely engaged with those people she encountered.

I still remember some episodes which left a deep impression on me, such as the Singaporean in Brazil whom Belinda visited during the Chinese New Year period. She cradled the tub of pineapple tarts her mother made for her in her arms, while tears rollled down her face and she kept repeating: "I'm not sad, I'm very happy".

The TV station is repeating the 2nd season on Saturday afternoons so I had the pleasure of catching some of the episodes that I missed out, such as the one of the Singaporean woman living by herself in Mongolia. She seems to be in her late 30's but resembles a big baby, because she looks so happy and glowing. The move to Mongolia was sparked by her love of the country and culture, which is very weird because she belongs the ang-moh pai. Still, one can tell she is really enjoying every moment there. She showed off her frozen hair after washing it in the open during the freezing Mongolian winter. She danced and jiggled, tried skiing on the ice in her Mongolian robe and shoes while making all sorts of weird poses, and generally acted goofy for the camera. It was so funny that I laughed out loud while watching her, which surprised myself, since I woke up with puffy eyes and a droopy spirit that morning.

When asked if she will return to Singapore, she chuckled and said no. "But why?", Belinda asked her. It's like falling in love, she replied. She wants to be in Mongolia for her whole life and she wants to be there all the time.

How I wish I can find a place to love too. I don't think I can love Sin8apore the way she loves Mongolia. For one, I don't want to be here all the time. Neither do others, which is why we all love travelling. As much as I don't wish to sound cynical, Sin8apore is like a corporation, and corporations are not something that will inspire what I call the big love. Sure, there're things that I like, such as the convenience and safety, the cleanliness and efficiency, and of course the food. But these are not the stuff that people fall in love with. Its the beauty and the spirit of the country, and a certain hint of possibility in the air. If anything, I find the air here too stale, too little, because there're too many people to share it with. I feel crowded out. It's funny that the government keeps warning us that we are not having enough babies, because this is the one place that makes me feel that we should stop reproducing ourselves because there are too many of us. Every resource is scarce, from water to housing to space to seats on the MRT trains. Whatever you name, we probably don't have enough.

Of pink dresses and old photos

We have been talking about Hong's wedding for so long and now it's come and gone. In the past, to me weddings = banquets which are something you have to sit through and hope that the ee-fu mien at the end of it was worth the wait.

But this is the first time I'm seeing a good friend getting married and so my feelings were different. As F mentioned, it was a mixed bag of emotions: sharing in the excitement and joy of the occasion and yet, feeling some trepidation at seeing an old friend officially leave girl-hood behind and nostalgia for our common past.

It was while viewing the photo montage that I realised how time flies, especially when I saw photos of the Perth trip that we took 3 years ago. Nothing fantastic happened, but it was just so relaxing and pleasant that it was the first time I actually felt a twinge of regret at having to return home. It was also then that I had an inkling of what was to come for H and AB. :) So whenever I think of them both, I think of that trip.

It was cool to see so many happy people around. At the ROM ceremony, I happened to sit beside Ah Ma and as we both looked on at the solemnization, I wanted to blurt out: "Awww, Hong mama, look, your daughter is all grown up and married now!" but I decided to shaddup and not spoil the important moment for Ah Ma.

So weddings can actually be fun. I hope you both enjoyed yourselves fa-la-la-ing on your big day too and all the very best and muacks from your "daughter"!

Discontentment loves company

Time is running out.

That seems to be the undercurrent coursing through the various conversations I've been having with friends. Everyone seems to be talking about how we're nearing 30 and time is not on our side anymore. I can feel the anxiety as well but yet also exasperation.

Sometimes, when alone, I actually admit to myself that I feel grateful. I may not be successful, married, or rich. But I feel grateful because there were junctions in my life where I might have made the wrong turns and ended up worse.

Maybe others, too feel grateful to be alive. But when we come together to talk, all the discontentment and insecurities start to crowd out everything else. Discontentment about our career, lack of money, single status, aging....why can't we ever talk about things that make us feel happy?

I have very little but I know I can get by. But the grumbles and complaints sometimes make me shame-faced, like how others are worried about their future but I'm still being indifferent, insensible, maybe unmotivated.

How strange that our daily defeats can be shared so readily and easily, that discontentment should be our common conversational currency. But after writing this out, I've come to realise something...you only let your guard down with people you trust. That they fretted at me may actually be that they trust me with their insecurities. That I wouldn't think any less of them despite their fears, their cynicism, the same way I wish they wouldn't judge me in my moments of discontentment.

Bumming to music

I was curious to see how my first violin lesson after the disasterous exam would turn out. I had imagined myself having to describe with resignation to the whole lot of my classmates (6 of them) what happened on that lousy day. As it turned out, only one turned up for class.

Of course A**a asked me how it was, and I told her. I sighed, flipped to the first piece which gave me the most grief, and started playing it. I hated that piece; it was difficult and fast and it grated on my ears. But M*s*y* who took the exam as well, had said that the pieces become that much easier once the exam is over. I wanted to see if it's true.

I had expected A**a to fiddle with her own violin as well, but instead she stood there and watched me. My hands did not tremble at all, but yet, the double stop, where you press on 2 strings at the same time, still tripped me up. I stopped and complained that I could never execute them well, but A**a urged "Go on, go on." And so I did.

I hated treating music like an exam subject; hated having to play a piece I dislike over and over again until my back aches; and I definitely hated scales. Because of all these, I gave myself more stress than I realised. It was just overkill. I just want to relak and enjoy my lessons now. Yeah, even when it comes to music, I can't help my bummer tendencies.

Welcome to my upside down world

I had been having these freaky dreams that left me wound up and unsettled. The other day when I was chatting with friends on MSN I even joked that I should stop and go practise my violin or I'll dream that the examiner is a monster who wants to eat me up. How was I to know that it would, sheesh, be worse than my imaginary nightmare?

The day started pretty all right--I was able to calm myself after a pretty lousy lesson the night before. I had told my teacher and accompanist that the exam would be 3.50pm and the teacher told me to get there at 3.00pm to warm up. Just when I was about to set off, I started to feel something was amiss, and took another look at the applicant sheet and realised that it should be 3.15pm! It was like, aarggh, when will I stop making stupid freaking #$%@ mistakes like that?!

When I got there, my teacher told me the accompanist is rushing there and if she can't make it, he will need to ask someone to stand in for her. I was panicking already and couldn't stop shaking even when I was practising in the studio alone. 5 minutes before the exam, I went to register with the staff just outside the exam studio when a small crowd of chattering people descended on us from nowhere and started introducing this Morris guy around. I was like, uh-oh, this name sounds suspiciously familiar and faintly of authority. Then, I remembered: he's the guy who signs our ABRSM certificates! The happy people then started talking about him observing the examination and asked who the next candidate was (that would be me) and that's when I started to unravel.

I hurried back into the practice studio and almost wailed at my teacher that they are putting an observer in the room. He was quite nonchalant and said, it's OK, it's not like they know who you are etc, and I said, yeah, but I know who he is! I told him how I've seen his name on my certs and he gave this blank look people have when something bad slowly dawns on them but he quickly recovered and tried to calm me down which was, by then, useless.

All I can say was that I was horrified by my own playing. My bow was shaking so badly that it was painful to hear (and from their perspective, to watch) and I even contemplated stopping the whole thing before I embarrassed myself even further.

I didn't feel too good about this whole exam thing because of the niggling feeling that we were underprepared this time round. I was prepared to flunk, even though I badly wanted to pass. But what I didn't expect was flunking in front of the Board's head honcho. It was like wow, seriously, it cannot get worse than this. Why, why, why? Even 4D is easier to strike, if you ask me. Just thinking about it gives me a slight tummy ache. :( My only consolation is that I can stop all the practising for now and give my sore fingers a break. The dented self-confidence will take a while longer to recover, I suspect.

Sing-along with JM

I knew that Mraz would be good and he would be entertaining and I was not disappointed. I was impressed by how he really sounded better live and was glad that it wasn't hype. Still, I felt something was not quite right, somewhere. And now, I realised it: he hit all the right notes and made no false moves--he was too polished. He had everything down pat. It's weird. I wish he made some boo-boos. Or am I asking too much? But still, he rocks my world! :)

I heart quiet, that is all

I hadn't meant to abandon my blog for so long. But it has been pretty tough going at work and I haven't been feeling too inspired of late--I don't know why--it makes blogging hard.

2 recent events had thrown me into close proximity with my extended family and relatives: my grandmother's passing away and the CNY. It was a lethagic experience, the strange combination of not being able to connect with them on any meaningful level and yet be surrounded by their constant action and noisy chatter. Of being in with them and yet out of it.

I remember watching by the sidelines with my eldest sister with bemusement and marvelling at their initiative (or what my sister terms it--I prefer calling it kan-cheongness) and this herd instinct to surge towards whatever needs to be done at the wake. Idleness is a cannot in my father's family.

At the end, all of them were busy pulling down the numerous quilts that were sent with condolences by the family's friends and business associates and industriously cutting out the letterings sewn onto them. The 2 of us quietly agreed that we were redundant and should just leave them to do the work, and be the lazy bums around there.

It was later that we were told they were all actually staking their claims on the quilts that they had been eyeing during the wake. There was even some "tug-and-pull" going on.

The experience just reinforced what I know about myself, that I still like peace and quiet best of all. I love the company of my family and close friends and would be unhappy without them, but I can never hope to be a social butterfly, fluttering on the winds of small talk and clever jokes.