’09 Refine

I had a look at last year’s New Year post, and was glad to see that I didn’t do too badly on following through with the resolutions. I made a fair bit more jewellery than the initial experiments I posted here, redesigned this blog, significantly upgraded my photo post-processing skills, opened a better savings account than my lousy POSB one, made a small low-risk investment and am considering a few more, and improved my insurance coverage. But sadly, I’m not sure whether I succeeded in exercising more, and if I did it was marginal.

The 2008 I was looking forward to also lived up to my expectations. It was a slightly indulgent and inward-looking year, admittedly, because I just loved spending time with Alec in our home and felt a little less motivated to go out. The downside of this is that I probably indulged the lazy introvert in me a bit too much and socialized less than is good for me; the upside is that when I did go out I enjoyed the events and good company to the full without feeling jaded, drained or financially stressed.

In 2009, apart from not totally falling off the wagon for last year’s resolutions, I’d like to:

  1. Get better at this DJ thing: I’ve got the turntables, am waiting for the mixer I want to arrive in January, and once that’s here I will practice practice practice!
  2. Re-establish contact with long-distance friends I’ve been terrible at keeping in touch with: Although my life is blissful, it doesn’t make for interesting email fodder so I put off writing emails because I feel bored stiff by my own writing. And although I would love to know how my friends are doing, it feels lazy to keep asking if I can’t even be bothered to reciprocate with something substantial about myself. My strategy going forward will be to start with shorter, more random, but more numerous emails in the hope that this will at least be an improvement from my previous paralysis.
  3. Take better control of my sleep: I am a night person and can’t change myself into a morning person, but I can certainly stop staying up late surfing aimlessly when I’m not even absorbed in anything I’m seeing, and I can also stop lying in bed till noon on weekends out of sheer inertia rather than real tiredness. I’m really reluctant to adopt this resolution, to be honest, because it feels like growing up – but there it is.

Brutal Kisses

I spent Saturday night celebrating a good friend’s birthday on the very Brutalist roof of Peace Centre, a bleak expanse of mottled concrete interrupted somewhat haphazardly by a fitness corner, playground, barbecue pit, a scattering of benches and the occasional spindly potted plant, the roar of the F1 engines transmuted into ghostly sirens by the time it wafted up to us on the clear night air, like a distant apocalypse powerless against the forces of beer, black pepper chicken and conversation. It was great.

On the way to the party, this rather endearing hoarding (on either Paradiz Centre or the building just next to it) caught my eye.

Beau Selecta

Alec asked if he could bring me anything back from Ireland.

Sadly, my first request for my Holy Grail concealer (Almay’s Amazing Lasting) couldn’t be fulfilled, because the product’s been discontinued.

My second request was for vinyl records. Since finishing my lessons with Koflow, I’ve neither practised nor made any progress on researching a decks purchase. The latter because I’m still hung up about how it will be THE MOST EXPENSIVE THINGY I WILL EVAR HAVE BOUGHT, and the former because I feel bad about always having to borrow Koflow’s records every time I practise.

To facilitate Alec’s task, I sent him a list to work with. When he showed it to the record store guy, the record store guy gently explained that although the stuff on the list was really great and diverse, it was all over a year old and not in stock any more. (Yes, this stung.) So given that I couldn’t pull another list out of my arse at short notice, I took a huge leap of faith and said, “You know what, dear? You choose for me.”

I have not usually been the kindest judge of Alec’s taste in music and most other things, apart from his choice of a wife. If he likes music I think is good, I assume it must be because he has absorbed my impeccable taste. If he likes music I think is bad, I take this as evidence of his own actual paucity of taste. So this is a big moment for us, a mark of our maturity as a couple. Here is an example of our maturity:

Alec: Well, even if you don’t like the records I’ve bought, I like them so I’ll enjoy listening to them.
Me: Sure, you go ahead and have fun listening to them ON TURNTABLES WE DON’T HAVE! I WANT TURNTABLES BUY ME TURNTABLES PLEEEEEASE!

Alec returns on 28th September, and I await my records with trepidation. Best case scenario, they’re great practice material and stuff I can even bring along to play if I do any more public slots. Worst case scenario, the next time I do a public slot, it’s like that scene from Three Men And A Baby where they’re throwing a big party for cool people and when Tom Selleck goes to change the music he accidentally puts on Ernie singing Rubber Duckie instead and as every person in the place turns to look at him, bemused, he does this awkward non-committal little dance.

Photo Walk: Tanjong Pagar Plaza

I was depressed two Saturdays ago about my DJ classes ending, so I distracted myself from that by revisiting an older hobby – photography. The DJ school is near Tanjong Pagar Plaza, an old public housing building with lots of activity in its communal spaces on a Saturday afternoon, so I went on a little photography expedition there. I generally prefer blog entries with a few well-chosen photos rather than a slagheap of mediocre ones, but at the moment part of trying to get myself back into the photography habit is to be a bit less of a damn perfectionist. (Essentially, I accumulate photos, but procrastinate on processing them or printing them because I make the excuse that they’re still not quite good enough.) So here goes, a bunch of passable but not outstanding photos, which are hopefully still better than posting nothing!

This was taken hurriedly on the way to class so it doesn’t have the best composition, but I still like its odd collection of elements – outer shell of the disused Yan Kit Road swimming complex in the foreground, beautiful old shophouse in the bottom right and the towering half-constructed Pinnacle@Duxton blocks in the background.

 

The first two floors of Tanjong Pagar Plaza are a mix of little shops, some self-consciously modern and others which look as if they haven’t changed in twenty years.

 

I just totally loved that illustration on the sign.

 

The shops enclose a tiled quadrangle full of benches and greenery. Everyone’s down here on a Saturday afternoon, anxious crowds spilling out of the Singapore Pools betting outlet, cooks washing vegetables in huge plastic tubs, middle-aged men shooting the breeze, and one sweaty photographer trying to be as unobtrusive as she can.

 

In another country I might refrain from this photograph for fear of exploiting the image of a homeless person. But in Singapore, I’m pretty sure he just decided the shaded bench was cooler for napping than the inside of his flat.

 

Time for a quick poll! Which of the following two photos of the old men playing chess do you prefer, and why? I couldn’t decide, so asked my colleagues and got different, thoughtful answers about each photo. I’d be interested in hearing your views too.

This was a quick snap in very dim lighting so it’s not very sharp and could be better composed, but I processed and posted it to remind myself of what is possible with the Fuji F31fd’s amazing low light capability. If I were using my other camera (the Canon A650IS, also beloved but for different reasons), I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t even be usable.

 

I had fun taking these photos! Gotta do it more often.

Wii Are Not Amused

Good: Having a husband who brings home a Wii from his business trip to Hong Kong.

Bad: Having a husband who, when setting up the Wii while you’re out, decides that this is the best way to depict his wife.

Wii are not amused

Hatty Birthday To Me

I used to have a big green leprechaun hat in London, a gift from Brian and Esther when a visit of theirs coincided with my birthday one year. Unfortunately, when I was leaving London and drastically pruning my possessions before shipping them back to Singapore, I ended up having to leave the hat behind. Alec promised to donate it to a needy leprechaun, but you know you can never trust these wily Irish and their meaningless promises.

But once I’d been in Singapore a while, I started to really miss my hat. I could have replaced it with one of those Guinness hats the Irish pubs give out for St Patrick’s Day, but I’m usually too busy celebrating MY DAY MINE MINE ME ME ME to be in the pub letting some snake-wrangling saint dude steal my thunder.

So when Alec asked what I’d like for my birthday, I jokingly said I wanted a Guinness hat. I was too lazy this year to throw a sequel to my 2006 Craic Whores birthday party, but someday I will, and I’ll need a good hat.

So there I was a week ago, the night of my birthday, on the way to meet Alec for a nice dinner at Senso. Alec had messaged that he was already at Maxwell hawker centre, where we’d meet and walk to Senso together. I got off the bus and walked towards the big traffic junction to cross over to Maxwell, phoning Alec to say I’d arrived. He didn’t pick up. I shrugged and figured I’d just walk into Maxwell and probably find him somewhere among the uncles nursing a beer.

I reached the junction, pressed the button to cross, and waited impatiently for a few seconds. Then I saw a man diagonally across the junction, standing very straight and tall and still, getting anything from furtive giggles to outright laughs from the locals standing around him, almost like they thought he was one of those human statues and they were trying to figure out what would happen if they tossed him 50 cents. Standing there, looking straight at me from across the junction. Wearing a Guinness hat.

[BTW, this is not the “simultaneously best and worst present ever” I mentioned earlier. Still working on an entry about that one, photos are crucial and I might even try a video.]

Return Of The Matt

Matt is here for his 3rd visit! Almost exactly a year ago, he helped Alec throw me a surprise birthday party and firmly established himself as my favourite male karaoke singer. Six months later he did us the honour of co-MCing our wedding, and in another karaoke session, gave me the first sign from God (2 more signs soon followed but that’s another blog entry) that I must learn to sing Master of Puppets as the next crucial stage of my karaoke journey.

This visit, I’m really happy we’ve finally been able to relax and have fun with him without needing to juggle lots of other stuff. Also, I love taking photos of Matt because they always come out as great records of good times had. Conversely, when I take photos of myself and/or Alec, our presence manages to suck all life and spontaneity out of the photo, leaving a photogenic void nearly as repulsive as Lemon Blowjob Face girls.

Here is Matt in Singapore’s most ludicrously OTT bar.

They don’t let you take photos unless you’re taking photos of your friends, and my surreptitious photos really didn’t do it justice, but let’s just say the bar at Parkview Square has just earned its place on Michelle’s Tours Of The Singapore Lots Of Tourists Don’t See But Which Is Freaking Hilarious And Way More Fun Than Clarke Quay (estab. 2003 with rave reviews ever since).

Here is an action shot of Matt playing my favourite minigolf. (I WON YAYYYY!)

Here is the squid Matt MADE, which by sheer coincidence happens to be a perfect companion for Ugly. I have named him Squgly. (OK, this isn’t technically a picture of Matt, but Squgly and Ugly are also way more photogenic than Alec and me, so why not.)

Unfortunately, I didn’t take any photos during karaoke this time because it was very civilised. But you may enjoy this one instead from last year’s birthday karaoke chaos. (Photo visible only to my Flickr friends i.e. anyone who knows me in real life and adds me as a Flickr friend, because I don’t want people to recognize me through recognizing my husband. Though it is true that in the photo, Alec pretty much looks like Matt’s husband.)

Pretty Good Year

My mother started 2008 in hospital with dengue fever, so until she was discharged yesterday I really didn’t have the mental wherewithal for any sort of goodbye 2007, hello 2008 blog entries. It was as much as I could do to monitor her condition, do what was necessary at work for a lotsamillion$ deal we signed yesterday, and fill the gaps in between with especially escapist TV.

In any case, it’s pretty obvious that getting married to Alec was the best thing that happened to me in 2007. He started 2008 by spending hours keeping my mum company in hospital (he’s starting a new job soon and had a few days free) and cooking me lovely dinners when I came home at night exhausted from stress. I will cut the mush because I’ve already given you enough of that before, but I am continually amazed at how I managed to luck out with this man.

I’m looking forward to the year ahead. I loved our wedding and it was totally worth all the planning hassle, but ironically one of the best things about finally being married is that we now have far more time and energy to devote to our individual hobbies, which of course also includes ridiculing each other about the lameness of said hobbies. Also reading, which is the perfect excuse to ignore each other entirely, and TV, which allows us to pretend we are spending quality time together when we actually are not. Marriage rocks, guys.

Every time I resolve in writing here to do something I inevitably fail to do so, but I think sharing these three things will be safe enough. I’ve already started on the first two, and the third is so wimpy that it is a cop-out from any actual brave resolution-making.

  1. Make more stuff with my imagination and hands:
    The Internet’s record of the crafting renaissance suggests that being inept and mediocre at this doesn’t discourage lots of other people. Inspiring!
  2. Become less financially clueless:
    Because continuing to let my life savings languish in a POSB savings account seems really, really, stupid.
  3. Exercise more than I did in 2007:
    This is easy, because I did fuck-all in 2007.

What are your resolutions, if any? (If they are actually worthwhile and will make me look pathetic, please don’t share them.)

Alecversary

Two conversations from the weekend:

#1

While discussing this recent post (where the comments closed before I found the time to write a proper response to Jol’s comment and I can’t figure out how to turn them back on, argh!), I brought up Jol’s impression that Christian ethics involve the belief that people can be banished to Hell for failing to believe.

Me: It’s definitely not anything I’ve ever been taught in all my years of Catholic education and weekly churchgoing. Did they teach you that in Ireland?
Alec: Of course not!
Me, satisfied: Good, I thought as much.
Alec: In school they taught us we were all going to Hell. For wanking.
Me: ……
Alec: It makes God blind or something.

#2

Alec, sulking: I didn’t have enough time to linger in the library, so I had to just run to the section nearest to the door and grab some books to borrow.
Me: Aw, that’s a pity.
Alec: Yah! So all my authors literally start with B, but because I didn’t even get enough time to go look for Batman, I had to settle for Brecht instead.
Me: Batman is not an author.
Alec: Yes he is. He’s an author OF DESTINY.

I just realized on Sunday night that back on November 6th, our sixth anniversary as a couple came and went and we didn’t even remember it. It’s hard to believe we just forgot a day we used to celebrate quite dutifully, but we weren’t too bothered. I’ll try to remember it next year (any excuse for a nice meal), though in many ways it feels like the importance of that date to us has been overwhelmingly superceded by the new life we now get to enjoy together on a daily basis.

Anyway, just so I can say I did something to celebrate having this lovely man to myself for 6 years now, I hereby rename the sub-category formerly and boringly called just “Alec”, repository of classic Alec stories like Spandex Party Boy and the particularly ugly bird, to “Alecdotes”, with all credit for the name due to James (for coining it in his best man speech at our wedding party).

Gettin’ Down To Catchin’ Up

Perhaps my longest absence ever, but let’s look on the bright side, I probably won’t disappear like this again till the divorce. I’ll leave gushing about the wedding & honeymoon to future posts – the point of this one is just to flex long-idle blog muscles (ow ow ow) and reassure you that now I’m married I no longer have to spend quality time with Alec on stuff like meaningful conversations and showing love and support. I can instead devote myself to aimless websurfing, calculating how many maids I can afford to sub-contract for that whole child-rearing thing and generally letting myself go.

(Kidding! I’ll just make Alec pay for the maids.)

(OK, OK, still kidding! It’s just that jokes like these don’t seem to go down very well with people when we make them in real life so I’m using this as an outlet.)

Since returning from our honeymoon we’ve unfortunately had to work pretty long hours. Spare time has been spent converting a tall ang moh’s “gentleman’s-club-influenced” bachelor pad into a marital home capable of housing a small Chinese wife with crippling Internet addiction and a penchant for bright colours.

Now that the teabags are no longer stored 2m off the ground, our next priority is making sure everyone who helped with our wedding knows just how grateful we are, because distracted thank yous and hastily dispensed gifts on our wedding day are really not enough.

And once that’s sorted, we’ll finally, hopefully, get some time to reconnect with all our personal joys again before we become one of those boring couples whose main interests are each other. I’m so out of touch with music at the moment that I don’t even know who the latest overhyped mediocre Internet indie sensation is, and Alec hasn’t worn spandex in public for months. And as for you, dear readers, if there are even any of you left, please keep popping in! I can’t pretend I just write this for me – if I did, I’d keep it on my hard drive – and although I’ll need to put in some work to make it worth your while to keep reading, I’m really hoping you won’t give up on me just yet.