Dear Rockstar, There was a Royal Wedding

Posted on May 1, 2011 by admin

Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton

Dear Rockstar,

Mum hasn’t written to you in awhile (partly because she’s still trying to get used to acknowledging you no longer refer to her as “Mummy” which she misses, you’re growing so fast), but then Prince William and Kate Middleton got married and as with many famous, rich (and I guess especially royal) people, the celebration of their union becomes everyone else’s business. The new Duchess of Cambridge, as Ms Middleton will now be known, has big Choos to fill. Prince William’s mum was the iconic Princess Diana.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skYtvSTwZt4]

The day before, Mum overheard the caucasian guy standing behind her in the Landmark taxi queue on the phone checking the dress code of some private club that apparently had a Royal Wedding viewing. “Does your ‘smart casual’ require a jacket? Shirt is fine? Oh, shirt with collar.”

And this one’s just a funny Asian guy’s video one of Mum’s friends put on Facebook (just because Mum thinks a lot of people who weren’t even huge Royal-everything fans probably still logged on and paid attention because everyone else was and they wanted to know what everyone else was talking about when they all got back to work)

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IIKVTXVqs8U]

Mum remembers Grandmum switching on the tv to a live telecast when Mum was not much older than you are now. (Not because she thought it was a fairytale princess wedding, your mother has never been a wedding-y girl, your father is haha, but because she remembers thinking it all took really long without anyone appearing to be doing anything.) And then Mum remembers watching in disbelief the newsflash of Princess Diana’s tragic death from the tiny tv set in her dorm room when she was in her early 20s.

[youtube  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQTe47cR-Ws&feature=fvst]

Grandmum’s guilty pleasure is reading about the Royals in the supermarket tabloids and Mum would occasionally deal with bouts of guilt at not being able to do more for Grandmum when she spent some weeks here taking care of you while Mum went back to work by walking into the Dymocks in Prince Building and buying stacks of gossip rags- anything that had a mention of Royals in them- to bring home to Grandmum.

Your mother got looks – The Economist or BT were more in keeping with her work uniform of pencil skirt (Burberry, Sportmax or ordered off Dad’s tailor) which Mum wears almost exclusively with back-seamed hose (that French hose with the black line running down the back of the legs that she bought in bulk from an outlet store in Kuala Lumpur – who knew they used to make the good French stuff in Malaysia), light shirt (Theory or bulk purchase off victoriassecret.com – Mum loved the fit of their shirts best), power jewelry (diamond studs, long strands of pearls or, more often, Marni or other seriously large statement pieces), Burberry trench or Anteprima wrap, and perpetual rusty red YSL Muse Bag. (Mum also carried a deep chocolate Jimmy Choo or various Prada but the Muse was Mum’s favorite, because Dad rang her once, “Can you live without your (red YSL) for 3 weeks? There were stains so I took it for a professional cleaning this morning but now they’re saying they want 3 weeks to do it.”

Mum bought virtually all her own jewelry and bags and stuff because Dad came from a very poor family he supported along with heavy study debt when we were first together, so even after he was doing better Mum just never felt comfortable expecting him to pay for her more “frivolous” purchases. Besides, Mum made her own money, it was part of the joys of shopping, back in the day.

During work hours your parents were known to hang up on each other if the market was moving or we had an impending deal. We had boy-girl fights on the Bloomberg chat (yes it is all transcripted somewhere ). We famously got as far from each other as we could on the buy/sell side, much to the amusement of our colleagues, we – especially I – struggled for credibility so. During busy periods we could go 6 weeks without hardly a personal conversation. Sometimes your dad just had to sit in front of the tv without saying a word if he’d had a tough day. Your mother blasts Gangsta Rap music or sits with the dog on the floor.

But when the dust settled, late in the night alone with his thoughts (Mum’s an early bird, he is nocturnal) your father would do things like clean my laptop. Install new virus software. Plan a vacation for us both. Stuff my bags into shoppers to ship to the cleaners along with his suits when he got back from trips that required them. (He likes to keep our maid on her toes that way).

Somewhere along the way Mum digressed into what our marriage is like, when what she had really wanted to do was keep a simple record of what people are saying today about an historic occasion, that of a British Royal Wedding that hasn’t been rivaled since Prince William’s mum before.

One of the world’s most eligible bachelors is no longer, and yet the whole time there was all this fuss Mum was wondering if anyone else thought to what extent what they thought Fairytale Prince had to offer was diminished by the fact well, he’s Fairytale Prince. It comes with a lot of baggage. And internet crazies. (Ahem. Mummy’s not crazy ok.)

He’s asking someone to accept a life where their relationship will always make the news. To give up their choice at privacy, and to put up with indescribable pressure over what they wear, say, eat… Being called “Waitie Katie” in the tabloids… And there’s the risk that the kind of girl who wants the attention rather than say, puts up with it simply because Fairytale Prince is actually a great guy is well, maybe not the kinda girl he was hoping to spend the rest of his life with in the first place. (They are getting married for the rest of their life, aren’t they?)

Therein lies the insecurity of the rich, famous, beautiful, of noble birth – does this guy/girl like me for me?

When the new Duchess of Cambridge was quoted, “He’s lucky to be going out with me,” your mother agrees. Forever and ever is hard enough to work on without also everyone else’s expectations and opinions and a whole bunch of relatives. You don’t get to choose relatives and unfortunately she has a dead iconic mother-in-law and like, the scariest grandmother-in-law in the universe.

And as for the whole marriage thing… Why do we often celebrate weddings a lot more than we do 10, 25 year anniversaries? “I do” at the altar is easier than the next decade or two.

Love,

Mum

 

Ps: But you have to know Mum was such a non-wedding-y person she wore a victoriassecret.com bustier + tailored knee-length circle skirt as her own “wedding dress.” She then wore the same bustier under business suits at office parties and vowed to wear some permutation of that to her 2 bridesmaid’s weddings… Your mother is probably not typical. But for the record she thought the Alexander McQueen dress the Duchess of Cambridge wore was just absolutely awesome (if you like that kinda thing).

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Rockstar In Singapore – Regency Park, East Coast Park, and Morton’s Goodbye

Posted on April 29, 2011 by admin

THIS is my girlfriend’s very grownup rental apartment in Regency Park.

No This Is Not Pinched From A House And Gardens Periodical

3,000 square feet and SGD 10,500 a month in rent <drool> which she grudgingly concedes (being a giant everything-Hong Kong-lover who hailed from the same hometown in Malaysia as me because she’d been there donkey’s years and Tokyo for as long but never lived in Singy til the last few months) is cheap but then there were “like, FIVE” construction sites around the development. Like “FIVE” construction sites rat-a-tatting in your skull while your new baby reminds you you are just a miserable, miserable person for not being able to make her stop crying are a reason to cut the rent on a giant prime-area apartment. Oh, hang on…

There Are In Fact Real People Living Here

Yes, it’s hard to imagine, but there is a real live new baby living in this home. In a color coordinated Baby Bjorn bouncer unless she prefers her equally color coordinated cot. I know because we met. And the preggers friend I said goodbye to in Hong Kong is missing a belly and there’s lotsa breastmilk in the fridge.

Seriously. HOW is it possible this apartment is so totally put together…

It has been 3 years since Rockstar was that age and our place has STILL NEVER looked this put together!!! I blame the hub’s manic “cleaning” sprees – every couple months he does this insane “my home is too cluttered” thing and I lose books I’m in the midst of reading… or furniture. Hello, hot husband – it’s not called “tidying up” if after that you don’t know where anything is. And please don’t scold the dog for leaving hairballs about this summer. Rockstar’s old enough to pick it up, repeat as needed, and inspire me to a life of crime. (Or at least inspire the dog).

And- and – aforementioned Rockstar has now burrowed into their giant sofa. The quiet (Construction sites? What construction sites?) occasionally punctuated by a good-natured coo is replaced by “Mum. My foot is stuck.”

And <muffled> “Mum. Where am I?” On repeat.

Sigh. In our home that would be “Mum. JD’s bothering me.”

“JD! Don’t eat my toys!” (She really doesn’t. Now you see where I get that concern about the hairball-scolding?)

<exasperated growl from our saint of a border collie who very rarely barks, communicating almost solely via whines and grumbles>

You can tell I miss her when we’re away. Especially when we get to East Coast Park.

Beach Boy Rockstar (in old Jacadi shirt which needs very little ironing and bestdressedkids.com trunks and a “Hongkie tan”)

Fair-skinned Rockstar totally sticks out among the browned Singy kids. Even the girls sport a little tan. This is the “Hongkie” of Rockstar, we bring him back to Malaysia at CNY and he complains it’s “too sunny” and he doesn’t like the glare and heat haha. (We love the sun. We love a tan.)

The boys go for a spin
Rockstar chooses other transport
Seriously, what is it with boys and their toy cars, what did they do before there were cars? He seriously drove the whole ECP path in that thing

Even as roller-blading babes skim by… You can get lessons here… (Though at a glance there are way more guy than girl instructors…)

“Where are all the big dogs?”

I can’t keep it in any longer, even though the table with 3 Schnauzers (almost the only dogs we see in this park other than a lone Chihuahua and further down a lone silky terrier) hasn’t been meeting my eye so I can ask them. There are markedly fewer dogs today than when we used to spend all-you-can-eat Sunday brunches here, and none of the little ones are even on the sand, let alone in the water.

3 Schnauzer-ed table don’t really know. They’re not unfriendly, but are certainly not chatty and seem almost a little shy to carry a conversation. Though one of them goes up to the Chihuahua’s owner because it doesn’t look like she has a doggy bag and they don’t want her to leave it on the floor.

Did the rules change, are big dogs outlawed here now, how come there isn’t a single Golden Retriever or Lab – or for that matter Cocker Spaniel even? No, you could still bring them here. But yes, you hardly see any nowadays.

“Think they might all go to Sentosa now.” <Pause>

<Cautiously> “So… where is your dog now?”

I repeat that we’ve moved to Hong Kong, JD’s in a park at least twice a day, and we’re used to seeing big dogs running around – even though you’re technically supposed to leash them, in the really dog friendly areas you can get away with not leasing.

<Pause again> “You really have to leash them here.”

Y-eah we know. JD lived a bit over a year with us in Singapore before we moved. We would visit Botanical Gardens past 9.30pm after work when it was quiet just so we could let her run around for a bit. Once, an aged couple called the cops on us as she ran around in an empty field with another dog. As in, “Hello is that the police? I need to report a crime. There are 2 dogs running here without a leash.” Seriously ok. I didn’t think it was that weird (just a little) when I lived there, but after almost 7 years in Hongkieland I kinda do…

Another time she was running there aged 7months, she ran too near a tween (voice breaking and he was about my height) boy who shrieked. His mum was so mad… She kept saying “If the dog is that uncontrollable you should just kill it. Shoot it.” She said it repeatedly as we beat a fast retreat with our half-grown dog.

Anyway. Said half-grown dog had her last swim here at ECP early in the morning on our last day living here. Today, it’s Rockstar and we miss our dog.

Morton’s for martinis

After chocolate martini’s at Morton’s in Mandarin Oriental that is. The Appletinis are pretty awesome too (I’ll take my friend’s word for it, I’m totally out of touch with cocktails because I’m a Shiraz girl except for tonight. Well, very good friend) and it’s very, very quiet (well we wanted to talk) after 10pm happy hour.

And another memory – of Kings’ old roomie/ housemate who just begged and begged to be introduced to my martini-drinking girlfriend, especially after seeing her pics. And then wanting to watch a Korean soap while out on our double date. And shortly after admitting he actually prefers guys.

And I just had to finally add this dizzify-ing pic of the hotel, attached to Marina Square where I used to shoot zombies on a big screen in the arcade and then have problems sleeping from the adrenaline.

Really steep staircases I always thought are more characteristic of Hongkieland

I MC-ed a wedding here. Well, 2. I don’t like MC-ing weddings usually, you don’t get to eat. Or sleep. But they are good friends…

Last Highway Of The Night

And this has to be my goodbye Singapore shot… I have a thing for (unpolluted) highways, always have. (In Hong Kong I’ve settled for the view of umpteen lighted windows in umpteen apartment blocks.) All those little lights going some place. (Or being some place). Each one a totally different life that doesn’t give a damn that I had a bad day in the office. Or just a bad day in general.

That’s how insignificant your average bad day really is.

Perspective’s swell.

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Rockstar In Singapore – Jalan Tenaga in Eunos and The Wild Wild Wet

Posted on April 28, 2011 by admin
Rockstar In Da Common Corridor (leading up to the flat where I rented a room)

Because it was a last minute trip to Singy, I didn’t get to let many friends know beforehand, and so we visit my former landlady (who works shifts at an undisclosed Singapore Air Force base while her hub is in charge of Karaoke equipment and stuff at events which means weekends and public holidays would be busiest) with a tar-powed breakfast before she goes to work.

Best Landlady in Da World – she feeds you, your husband, your Rockstar, and is just a really nice person

My first job was at OUB, which has now merged with UOB, and back then I paid SGD 300 for a room (un-airconditioned, officially no meals, but I remember her feeding me often when she was around to cook) in this flat. My landlady/lord are not the kind of super-rich landlords you rent Bel Air apartments from, and I would try to be careful and conserve water when I did the laundry at least as a courtesy, stuff like that.

After the first contract was up and I expected a raise in my rent, my landlady said to me, “You work at OUB right? I read about the merger/acquisition in the papers, and figured you must be facing some job uncertainty. Therefore I’m not raising the rent.” Even though I assured her I was one of 13 retained, out of an old dealing room of about 80 (if I recall correctly), she insisted on not initially raising it though she should’ve. I’ll always remember that even though it was like, 10 years ago. We’ve asked her and her hub to come spend a night at Bel Air on occasion, but they rarely pass this way… Well, maybe someday… Hope you’re reading this Mrs Lee 🙂

This HDB is near an industrial park
Which means shift workers and a helluva noise late at night when the tires squeal on the too-smooth concrete… and I’m a very light sleeper… used to swig vodka to sleep better til it messed with my stomach… Aircon would’ve fixed it but I thought it was too much luxury (seriously, am I nuts or what?)…  I did hang out with ex boyfriends in their cars up on this parking lot in the middle of the night though… (oops I think I just admitted that to my landlady after almost 10 non-committal years) Cos obviously my exes hated the lack of aircon… The only thing that’s changed in this parking lot since then are the roofs over the cars

Anyway I ended up renting that room in this HDB at Jalan Tenaga in Eunos, completely as a fluke. And there I stayed for several years (I kept the room even after I often slept over at Kings’ much-more-comfy-and-close-to-the-office-apartment-where-we-also-kept-2-turtles-named-Oakley-and-Yoga-and-umpteen-pet-miniature-lobsters-who-racked-up-a-long-history-of-escaping. I’m old fashioned that way. Ahem.)

And there Rockstar is, standing there, back when I lived here before I even met Kings

In a few years if she retires, my landlady is considering offering room-and-meals for students from abroad as a pseudo guardian. She especially likes Malaysian students (can’t imagine why hee hee). Interested or curious, email me. When I stayed there it wasn’t just they’re nice people – if your teenager is being an idiot she was the kind of person who’d tell him. Or warn you. Honest and direct. I think that’s more important to find in a guardian than simply putting money down for a nice place and bla bla.

My first apartment out of uni was actually in Ghim Moh, with a landlord recommended by an ex boyfriend’s mum. Since I only returned late at night to sleep, hanging out the rest of the time at my ex’s, I thought the neighbors’ complaints about mysterious furniture moving noises were simply because they had the wrong unit.

Then one uncharacteristic Saturday night, I was home around midnight when I heard banging on the front door. Rushing to the front of the apartment and seeing the grill door open, I assume it’s some emergency and obviously landlord-related since they have a key to the grill which I can see from a window is already wide open (it’s Singapore right, what are the odds it’s an actual crime where someone picked the lock without getting reported?) so I hurriedly unbolt the door thinking Am I going to get a lecture for the bolt? (I had a habit of discreetly adding extra bolts on doors that lacked them when I lived alone.)…

There stood my middle-aged Ghim Moh landlord dead drunk and in my face. Pushing past me he flung himself on the couch and declared he was going to watch tv “because it’s (his) home” (I was occupying this apartment alone, he lived in another one nearby). After standing at the door (in case I needed to run out) for a time and realizing he wasn’t going to budge, I bolted myself in the bedroom and called a “friend” living just a few blocks away. She wouldn’t come and wouldn’t send her husband (or for that matter do anything). Needless to say I stopped speaking to her. Especially after she called weeks later, surprised I had moved out, and said “Oh, so you really were in trouble that night”.)

By the time my ex showed up, Ghim Moh landlord had left, slamming the door behind him. I didn’t emerge til my ex was outside the door, but then the phone rang and I finally realized who’d been prank-calling me for several weeks with things like “Are you alone?” Ghim Moh Landlord berated me for “thinking (myself) too high-classed to join (him for a lie on sofa to watch tv).”

So I hung up and rang his mum and sister (who also owned the unit I was renting), and when they admitted he had a drinking problem and “Oh, so THAT’s why the neighbors complained of noise when you weren’t in,” and oh, they didn’t know if he would be coming back because he was unstable when drunk (they think?) and I should call the cops if that happens, I stayed in the guest room of the guy I was trying to end a relationship with. I was NOT a shiny happy person.

Also wondered if when I returned the following morning I would find my stuff trashed with a baseball bat. (It wasn’t).

Welcome To Eunos

And that’s how I ended up at the Eunos HDB area. My mum kind of knew someone who knew them and I moved in practically without seeing the place, I was desperate to move my stuff from the other place (and not impose on my ex). Though I did bring an old friend and his girlfriend along (after getting lectured for not calling them when Total Crackpot was kicking the door in – but they lived too far away and didn’t drive, as did all my other friends u c.)

This place looks exactly like it did a decade ago. Just as clean and new. And Kings had a fight with a Mercedes Cab driver once, when dropping me off he took 7 minutes (dead sure it wasn’t even 10) with the meter running to help me put my luggage back and the driver said “I am a Merc Cab ok, you should NOT make me wait” haha

After breakfast, we eventually make our way to Wild Wild Wet (yeah it seems like I already used to live there, but this place is so big and Rockstar is NOT a water animal we figure there has to be something we can interest him in… In the interests of getting him to like playing in the water enough to learn to swim soon). Will get more pics after I get Kings camera…

Bravado-ed Rockstar at the entrance right before a giant bucket of water gets dumped on people inside and he decides he shall avoid this area totally

So we float, in tires, down Shiok River flowing round the water theme park. Thrice. Would’ve gone round and round all day but we enticed Rockstar out with noodles from the foodcourt.

Ban Mian with extra ikan bilis. Yum.

But the Rockstar would have none of the Longan.

ps: HAPPY (BELATED) BIRTHDAY MR LEE!!!!

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Rockstar In Singapore – Shoppes At Marina Bay Sands and Raffles Place

Posted on April 26, 2011 by admin
Random shot of Rockstar at Marina Bay Sands Shoppes

The Shoppes at Marina Bay Sands did not exist when I lived in Singapore – so Kings takes us. The Rockstar shall have his running-squealing-in-new-shopping-center fix here.

There are things you quietly buy for your child and hope no other mum sees you getting (like chocolate), and then there are things like my New Favorite Gift To My Child Because This Makes Me A Good Mother – this spelling game from Mother’s Work because Rockstar loves jigsaws, especially the wood ones. And now he can get a little ABC practice in too <too proud>. Like dieting, depending on the “educational-ness” or “wholesome-ness” of your virtuous purchase your conscience and sense of self-worth might afford you more candy or tv. For your child, of course I mean.

I Seem To Think Buying This Makes Me A Good Mother

But I do recommend a trip to Mother’s Work (though I find the name a bit much) on one end of the mall if you happen to be at Shoppes… It’s not a big store, but we found that wood ABC jigsaw, some cool shades, inexpensive but trendy fabric bags and – wish I knew about this when Rockstar was in that phase – paper books for babies (as in, chemical free, wipe-clean-able, chew proof). Love the books. If we ever have another child I’m sending Kings down here.

 

Rockstar ruining all the pics I attempted to take of him at Mother’s Work

At Beanstro near the water feature, the auntie accompanied by several women of different ages attempts to nab a newly-vacated prime-location table, only to be stopped by a waitress telling her to queue up. A minute later auntie snaps in Putonghua “Miss. WHERE are there other people waiting?” and entourage leaves. I’m dead sure they aren’t local, even though I don’t hear the telltale Beijing accent. They’re also carrying Gucci shopping bags, but markedly not numerous giant ones we see a lot more of in Hong Kong. The Chanel store is quite crowded, but other than that most people are walking about a lot more than they’re buying.

When I asked about Ion Orchard, another upscale shopping center that wasn’t around 7 years ago, a friend comments a lot of the branded stores are not targeting Singaporeans. Sure enough there’s an article in the local papers about Singaporeans spending the least on clothing among the different Asians and Aussies they survey (Hongkies are just behind Aussies as the top spenders, which surprises me; Mainlanders and Malaysians don’t feature). Still, there’s markedly more Gucci, Louis Vuitton and Chanel walking about today than I remember.

What I Wore (No this is not normal Raffles Place attire). An ex colleague asks if I want to say hi to an old boss upstairs. This is a boss who would ask me in younger days about which guys sent me flowers at V-day. So no, I’m too shy to go up to the very Singy dealing room in a straw fedora to say hi (when in Rome…)
Near the Dali statue at UOB Plaza (Rockstar looks like that because my ex-colleagues have just finished chasing him about in the square outside their offices)

Another friend has a half shop lot in Arcade, Raffles Place (ie predominantly for locals) which she stocks with outlet branded bags and it’s thriving. She gave up a full time teaching job and need only open her little shop for about 2 hours a day, taking orders before buying trips which she goes on more and more often. About 70% of her stuff is gone within 2 weeks of her getting back..

OUB Center and Where I Used To Pass Late At Night… There used to be teenagers on skateboards in the middle of the night here, and I got a gym membership at California Fitness to do hip hop classes and use the shower on nights I worked late

I’m not surprised both days I wander over unannounced in between errands and meeting ex colleagues/ friends her shop is always closed. (I like hanging around Raffles Place because I did a lot of errands here and also use Raffles Dental in OUB Center for regular checkups and cleanings because American Dental Group at Prince Building Hong Kong sometimes takes 2-3 weeks before I can get an appointment and having a rockstar means I often risk rescheduling and waiting another 2 or 3 weeks. Not to mention I was told you always need a prelim x-ray (which you don’t need in Sing) if you change dentists and the whole bill is several times more than what it would cost at Raffles. As in, my air ticket to fly to Singapore is practically free.. Dental just seems expensive in HK, another friend goes back to Malaysia to get anything done… Ditto pedicures…)

Near my friend’s little store, some second hand shops like Hong Kong’s Milan Station, taking up a lot more shop space than hers, have opened, and I remember her telling me they’re great for her business.

Rockstar At Raffles (note the suited mannequin hands emerging from pile of boxes)

Seeing me, the Beanstro waitress shoots an embarrassed and faintly conspiratorial grin I return purely as a reflex. But Putonghua-speaking auntie is right; there is no queue though 90% of the restaurant is filled, and the prime table next to us remains vacant for at least another 20 minutes before a young local couple are shown to their seats.

Next time we’re trying this cafe in the hole (btw the Prada here has a huge tv screen behind a water feature and we saw two male Caucasian tourists trying to examine the tv behind the flowing water… can’t pretend we’ve seen either in HK!)

Spoilt from Hong Kong restaurants and because Rockstar is falling asleep in Kings’ arms, we found the wait for our own table and further wait for someone to take our order just this side of acceptable and after walking over 2 or 3 times to try and put our order in rather than waiting to be served we get looks from the waiters. Probably because we can still pass for local so they’re wondering why we’re behaving “un-local”. They aren’t very slow, probably just a tad. But turnover is fast at busy Hong Kong restaurant tables because vacant tables or patrons waiting between orders mean less $$ I guess… We tip for good tables and to sit there longer – interestingly I doubt the service or speed at which we were served would change much if we tipped here…

One of the newer structures we pass in the cab that didn’t used to be here

We get similar from the cabbies; hopping over to a girlfriend’s place at Regency Park (which is in prime location off Orchard Road) several times during our stay, 1 out of 3 cabbies we ask actually knows where it is, 1 gets horrendously lost, all still ask if we can instead show the way. The only one who knows how to get to my friend’s place without help has been a cabbie for “more than 20 years” and says the Singapore Government has treated cabbies a lot better in the last few years, resulting in an increase in cabs around the city (I note a marked increase in number of cabs from 7 years ago). Then he launches into a lecture about how I should pronounce “Nathan Road” the “Malay” way – “Nuh-thun” (which far as I know is bull because I seem to always remember it’s Nathan) because otherwise there is a “Nitan Road” somewhere on the East side, bla bla bla, and I recall a Singy game show that once featured “Who is the Smartest Taxi Driver” where they put all the cabbies there for a round of something like “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire” with all the questions.

Kings comments that once, desperate to get a cabbie about to change shift to take him a relatively short but un-walkable distance so he wouldn’t be late for the next client meeting, he offered SGD 20 on top of the (several SGD) fare. The driver muttered “Siao!” (meaning ‘crazy’ in Hokkien) and sped off. (In HK the cabbies would usually phone in that they’re ferrying one last passenger before coming in)…

Some cabbies say not a single word to us or even Rockstar who has been insisting on “paying” all our cab fares (I found their ignoring Rockstar quite rude because even the roughest looking cabbies in HK still respond to Rockstar’s “thank you” if only to grunt or nod, even if they often say nothing to the parents… Most of the time they say a whole few sentences to him… In all the time we’ve cabbed back and forth and gotten fleeced and what-not, maybe one has completely ignored Rockstar’s “thank you” the way several do in Singy which I was surprised about)…

Well I guess none of the Singy cabbies during our stay try to fleece us though. Sometimes in HK you have to ask for your correct change.

One Singapore cabbie asks politely if he can keep the SGD 0.20 change.

 

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Rockstar In Singapore – Beginnings at Far East Plaza and Ritz Carlton

Posted on April 24, 2011 by admin

Seasoned Traveler Rockstar must make sure he doesn’t miss his flight…

Still 50-50 whether he gets the right time… HKIA is a good place to practice…

Would’ve had one with floor of entrance to Immigration section in background, but I failed to put my iPhone away in time… Walking into the restricted area an airport official stops me, points to the no cameras sign and goes thru my iPhone to delete the picture I have just taken. Swear there was only the floor in the frame and I’d kinda expected him to check the photo but not delete the pic, but visiting say, the States I wouldn’t even have dared take my phone out. I generally find HK immigration one of the friendliest, I lose my photo but the other staff are now patiently trying to coax Rockstar through the x-ray area. And that’s saying a lot because the average waiter or taxi driver in HK is very much not the friendliest or chattiest. (Though I realized on this trip they are the fastest.)

Entering Singapore always gets me. I can smell the difference in the less polluted air (one of the few things I dislike about Hong Kong). Driving into the city from the airport, there are all these beautiful trees. My grandmother who lives in Bishan used to say it always takes longer the first time you pass because the trees ask, “Where are you going?” On the way back you don’t get asked because they already know.

Straight, wide roads. Flowers in pots behind little wooden fences that look more at home around a white-washed cottage than on a highway. Some of the airport road dividers are made out of potted plants so they can be cleared away to make an additional runway for say, military planes. I recall one ex boyfriend telling me, at least back then, that terrorism (like drugs) carries the death penalty – troops handling the one attempted hijacking he was aware of shot to kill in an operation that was over in several minutes. He was proud. He is not normally a bravado-ed guy.

8 exes serving National Service, at least several officers among them, hopefully some of that understanding of Singapore’s commitment to ever-readiness “if only out of necessity because (they) are surrounded by Muslim countries” was not gleaned from the universal boy-showing-off-for-girl phenom.

Anyway. One of the more common questions I get asked by fellow expats I meet in Hong Kong is whether I prefer living in Singapore (10 years, 5 of them in school) or Hong Kong (going on 7 years).

I’m not sure I can ever answer that objectively. I married and went to live in Hong Kong when the hot hub had a job offer and well, we both made a lot more money there, possibly in part due to a difference in where we were in our careers. We were no longer fresh grads when we moved to HK. What I began to learn at work in Singapore was fleshed out and then some in Hong Kong. We were at such different stages of our lives. Many of my old friends now live here. I could go without seriously making new ones in Singapore, it’s small and every trip here I’ll bump into someone I went to school or worked with here.

Far East Plaza entrance, mostly unchanged for almost 2 decades (so happy I got this shot before they did something to the building)
The Malay food eateries on the top floor of Far East Plaza I frequented as a student – still packed nowadays

Kings and I learned to tend our marriage in Hong Kong, and professionally we learned so much at work too, but it was in Singapore that I “grew up.” When I feel troubled and uncertain, walking the streets like I used to in the middle of the night, having hot plate beef at Cahaya in Far East Plaza, is a balm like no other. I marveled at, reveled in the safety and freedom to wander from Bugis to City Hall to Raffles Place at 3am on my own, when I felt like it, a luxury I never had living in my parents’ house in Malaysia.

But the old Johnny Two Thumbs tattoo parlour (I can dream, right? But in reality the hub hates needles) has been replaced by this one

Singapore was where I first tasted freedom, and the soft spot I have for the city born of the confidence with which I find my way around may not necessarily be logical. It was for here that I left home at 17, to share a little dorm room at CJ Hostel where I enjoyed the lack of hot showers and the outlawed use of hairdryers and hotplates (in case they tripped the power in the whole building due to the old wiring, back in the day) for 2 years.

BarNone. (It’s a bar over a circle which can’t be seen in this pic). Where Kings and I first met and quite near Far East Plaza. Looks exactly the same from the outside. Maybe that’s why it also appears to be deserted.

(More on how Kings and I met here…)

It was also here that I recovered from the death of a loved one, watched some people near and dear to me in bad (I find the word ‘abusive’ melodramatic) relationships, learned the most important lesson about personal choices: If you cannot take care of yourself, if you screw yourself up because you choose foolishly, you hurt the other people in your life who love you. Being loved carries responsibility. Unless of course you really don’t love back.

(This must also be why on the plane they always tell you to get the oxygen mask on yourself first before you attempt to help others.)

The friendships I made while I studied here are so valuable, I remember the incredible strength some of my friends displayed. It’s one reason I retrace my steps to some of the places I visited when I hung out with them, I find inspiration and strength in their ability to make the most of the hands they were dealt in life. For isn’t that your real achievement, what you make, in the time God has given you, with the hand you’re dealt?

(Yeah, yeah, there are so many more inspiring people whose stories get turned into movies and books – but they are not people I had the honor of knowing personally.)

A girl I roomed with had followed her family to Hong Kong from China as a young child, earning a scholarship to study A levels in Singapore along the way. Worried about the impending 1997 handover, she fast-tracked her A levels, teaching herself half the syllabus (she excelled in Math and the material wasn’t covered in school yet). One day, I came home to an empty room, and a goodbye note (with an apology for saying goodbye in a note). I never heard of her again, not even her fellow Hong Kong scholars knew where she’d gone. I hope she made it to medical school like she wanted.

Then there was the older friend who had run away (from somewhere in Malaysia) – her mother had pledged her to a Tibetan (if I recall correctly) temple and she would occasionally get beaten because she didn’t want to go. Despite testifying at custody hearings, she was still repeatedly sent back to her mum (who was the more convincing speaker) instead of grandparents, her preferred choice of guardians. At one point she was locked up for several days in a jail cell because she kept running away, and she avoided the showers til she got out as she was afraid of the guards (not the other inmates). That was her life until she turned 21 and no longer needed a guardian. Today she’s a teacher and happily married mum of two.

There were other abuse cases. And other stories of bouncing back from illnesses, or nursing loved ones. I only mentioned the ones whose identity other friends reading my blog wouldn’t be able to guess 🙂 I used to joke that if all my friends came to my wedding, I wasn’t sure everyone would have anything to talk about with each other, some were from such different walks of life.

And so, after almost 2 decades, I remember… stuff. We don’t talk about anything in particular, we don’t often see each other for like ages at a time. Only this time as I look at where they are now, I remember the hand some of them were dealt in life, and I think I Can Swing Whatever The Hell I Need To. Just Look At These Guys. I remember when so-and-so cooked chicken stew in the room one night and it got confiscated and 10 days later when she got the pot back the stew was still in the pot. I remember when so-and-so stored carrots under her shoe rack. I remember one girlfriend describing confronting another friend’s (ex)boyfriend and then calling the cops because he had been hitting her. And was still hanging around outside in the bushes. I remember, I remember!

Then I go back to our hotel room.

Lobby of Ritz Carlton
Bar of Ritz Carlton
Sofa of Ritz Carlton
 

View off Ritz Carlton

And with his earphones still on, Kings waves over his shoulder at my reflection in the giant picture windows overlooking so much city that wasn’t around when I used to live here.

When I emerge from the shower, he nods at the coffee table, “Rockstar said to leave you that bun from dinner… ‘Because Mum will be hungry when she comes back’“ Aforementioned Rockstar is now fast asleep on the bed with his mouth wide open.

I might never fully appreciate the extent to which He has blessed me. But maybe tonight I came a little close.

PS: And we were in… the Ritz Carlton! They’re known for those windows in their bathrooms. It was one of Kings and my early dates and almost a decade later Rockstar is splashing about to the same view outside. Well, except for the casinos and the Esplanade and…

Them octagonal windows
Those windows you can see from far away

 

 

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What are you willing to do for US$5?

Posted on April 22, 2011 by admin

One night, surfing about like he usually does because he likes to not be asleep in the middle of the night when it’s quiet (since he can sleep in any condition, but not be alone with his thoughts then), Kings stumbled on Fiverr.com.  For USD5 you can get someone to do all kinds of stuff ranging from the cool to the boh liau. Like so:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzaEDzQsXLA]

(Ok Kings paid USD10 for this because he wanted video and photos. Then, after Class 95FM has been going on and on about Mother’s Day since we got here, my husband says without a touch of irony, “Mother’s Day coming meh?” Uh, hello, did you read my blog? So I will take this as my Mother’s Day pressie, thank you very much.)

One of the things that never ceases to amaze (or amuse) me is Kings’ quirky little talent for remaining oblivious to certain blindingly obvious until it walks up to him and introduces itself. That, and my husband’s ability to climb into bed and be seriously asleep in the middle of a fight. (Really. I kicked him in the shin once to be sure. He was totally asleep. OMG my husband invented Opportunistic Narcolepsy.)

Anyway, I went to Fiverr to check it out myself.  Guess what I found:

 

So anyway – BUAHAHA!!!!!

Want an unusual Mother’s Day gift for a Mummy blogger close to you, call Richard.

And btw Fiverr started a few months back, now it’s ranked 347 on Alexa. (Look who’s laughing now.)

WSJ:  What Will People Do for $5? Fiverr Lets You Find Out

NBC:  Fiverr on NBC

Yahoo Finance:  What Will People Do for $5? Fiverr Lets You Find Out

Techcrunch:  What Would You Do For $5?

Smart Money:  The $5 Freelancer

ps: This post was written and posted from a hotel room in Singapore, where the Rockstar is spending Easter at the last minute because a visit from his grandparents didn’t work out. Stay tuned, Rockstar In Singapore will answer such gems like “Is the Rockstar in Singapore?” and “Did you meet your husband in a bar?”

(Yes, you know who you are <grin>)

Spoiler 😉

Hint: The shape of the bathroom window

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Mother’s Day Ad For Sing Yin At W Hotel in Kowloon

Posted on April 20, 2011 by admin

So I got called to do a Mother’s Day ad for Sing Yin Cantonese Dining at W Hotel in Kowloon (one of the things I signed up sometime back but rarely get to show up for around hanging with Rockstar thinking it’ll help me get to know more of Hong Kong than the inside of a dealing room… but don’t know if I’ll actually find the chinese publication it appears in…)

Shot of chandelier in W Kowloon Lobby from when we picked Ming and Hui Wen up (didn’t buy anything, wasn’t sure they’d let me take pics of the W store)

We only recently discovered there was a W in Hong Kong, when Ming and Hui Wen flew up for the SPCA Bloggers Against Animal Cruelty Event. I’ve been dying to go back and check out the W Hotel Store except I never had any reason to travel to that part of Kowloon before.

Kings and I had a thing for W Hotels, ever since we randomly stayed at the W in New York when, upon arriving at the original place we’d booked, we discovered it so run down I worried about flea bites. W was the “cheapest” alternative last minute accommodation.

That 4 days or so, we proceeded to feel far trendier than we could really afford to be, passing the super chic lobby with the super chic people, to the smallest, cheapest room in the place (we didn’t feel our honeymoon budget back then could accommodate the slight increase in price for a room that was well, not the absolute cheapest and tiniest). Even as we had elevator conversations with other hotel guests about their USD 400 Frederic Fekkai haircuts. I was so taken I thought even the elevator music was “super chic”, and I later bought the CDs to play as background music during our small Singapore wedding dinner at Flutes at Fort Canning.

On the way there…

So here’s my chance. The hotel restaurant would like to take pictures of me, enjoying Mother’s Day Dim Sum and stuff. I must be freaking fabulous.

(Talent agency on and off asks if Rockstar wants to do ads. He said “No, because it takes too long.” His conclusion after watching a documentary about the making of the Wheels On The Bus video. He thought the kids had to wait around too much between takes. So Rockstar no interest, not doing. I will thoroughly enjoy this luxury in case someday we have this conversation about Homework.)

Incongruous right… Who’d have thought the W is out here instead of say, in Central?

Anyway. I am introduced to my 2 “children”. They’re in their late teens. I must not be so freaking fabulous.

Lady In Charge frowns and says I’m too young. I’m wearing timeless studs (couldn’t these giant fake pearls I wanted at the last minute), a prim Anteprima cardigan from work days when I wanted to look older/ get taken more seriously, and carrying a Prada “doctor’s bag” which I thought could look more “auntie” with the prim sweater but thank you.

What I Wore

(Anyway this wasn’t my original gig, I was supposed to do a tv commercial for some government thing but it was Rockstar’s Pyjama Day at school. Now I realize they must’ve switched mums. I usually provide grovelling apologies because a lot of the time I can’t make these little assignments and no one’s told me off)

“How old’s your son?”
“3…” <Lady In Charge frowns> “I should’ve worn pearls?”
“Y-eah, why didn’t you?” She hands me a pair of big, white plastic Dame Edna-esque glasses with little gemstones that she bought in Mong Kok. I proceed to theatrically ham it up. My teenaged daughter is mildly disapproving I think because there are a lot “not pretty” shots. But I have to pass for her mum right.. So I don’t expect to be easily recognizable (or very attractive haha)

As we leave, my “daughter” is curious and asks about my previous job, and the Rockstar (including whether he’s “mixed” when she sees a pic haha)… Then… I mention this because it struck me as unusual: “But you are happy in your marriage, right?”

Erm yeah? We were talking about work and Rockstar and Kings preferring I stay home with our child for awhile. Where did that come from?

One of the many pics we have of the City, from our excursions to the Wetlands Park… Will post more pics soon

As I search my memory of our conversation, I recall her mentioning she’s from Tin Shui Wai. I know only two things about the city – it’s where HK Wetlands Park that we love to visit is, and, more recently I then learned, Tin Shui Wai is nicknamed City of Sadness. Apparently for high rate of unemployment, suicides, and spousal and child abuse. We only found out after recommending it (because of the park nearby) to a friend looking to stay for just a few months who likes parks, when he checked it out further <sheepish>.

So this is how I put 2 and 2 together and got a hundred and eleven, and a blog post.

 

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Appointment with Pain

Posted on April 18, 2011 by admin
Pass this sign in Central on the way to Melbourne Plaza… Wonder what’s up?

In every mum’s life I believe will come a time when your back hurts from toting about your growing child. Even if you have a relatively strong lower back from a childhood of taekwondo and have never seen the inside of a chiropractor’s.

That Famous Street (Up Staircase) Where You Can Buy Buttons, Wigs and Party Favors, and Umpteen Odds And Ends On The Cheap, just across the street from X-Ray Place

After being very promptly sent to the nearby Central Medical Diagnostics unit for x-rays, I’m told I might have a nerve problem I never knew I had, that could’ve been around since birth (apparently forceps deliveries back in the day can do this to you) – and it only flared up now I tote the Rockstar about.

Further down, another one (which I can’t really read)…

As in, not when I did 20 knuckle push-ups once upon a long long time ago, it takes Rockstar-lugging to set it off – which I think is because push-ups are nothing compared to toddler back-arching and regular squirming. The latter is unexpected, abrupt, uneven stress placed on your back.

Anyway my chiropractor reaches this conclusion from x-rays that show up nothing and a markedly increased mobility when he sticks some kind of microchip to stimulate the nerves in my neck. He tried to explain it, I hung in there as long as I could, after awhile I don’t remember much beyond that it hurts when I visit his office.

 

Right next to the Central Medical Diagnostics building is a little "pasar malam" looking thing. I spot kiddie cheongsams and wonder if this is where my ex colleagues used to tell me they bought their more "disposable" kiddie clothes

So I’ve had 3, maybe 4 treatments and that set of x-rays. “Just maybe 20 minutes,” I’m told. Bet the real reason they say it casually is because it bloody hurts – who’d want more pain if they could help it?

Someone sticks his rubber-gloved fist in your mouth to move the nerves in your jaw about. It’s possible after the session you think they’ve fixed your back because by the time they’re done with the nerves in your mouth, your back pain ain’t that bad.

Then there’s the nerves in your shoulder, accessible via your armpit, that mother nature put there so you would feel pain when someone tweaks them.

Then there are the various percussion instruments. Not too bad. Uncomfortable, but you feel this is something you won’t die from. Possibly.

My favorite are the various microchips he attaches to your nerves to stimulate them as he turns your head from side to side to check “your” alignment. Pointing your toes in and out, turning your forearm this way and that, you suddenly feel so good at what you do (toe pointing).

Through These (Vintage-Looking) Doors, An Appointment With Pain

Oh, but the one that really takes the biscuit is when doc says “Ok, this will hurt.”

“What, I have to tell you first lah, after you think what is this guy doinggg.”

“Oh, and this will hurt more.”

Uh, thanks.

Or this one either… But this is outside the Citibank near Landmark… Demonstrations like this one outside this Citi have been going on and off for a few years…

Now I know why they require medical professionals to prominently display their qualifications in their clinics. Tell the patient you’re qualified first, before causing them pain? Diabolical.

“Oh, doesn’t hurt more meh?”

But seriously, no complaints. It’s just funny haha – when you can laugh again.

Lots of people are taking pictures... Today someone is beating on a drum and the protestors are wearing matching anti-Citi tees... Quite often there's a recording blaring about how Citi needs to compensate investors... Once, there was a poster of a masked man in a wheelchair with a header along the lines of the bank having cheated the disabled as well...

I skipped my appointment today. To pig out on Shangri-La hi tea with an old BBC girlfriend I haven’t seen in 8 years. We met at work in Singapore, I was SO tickled by how much heavier her British accent is now she’s gone back to the UK for about 7 years… And will be even more tickled when I finally get to meet her 5-and-a-half-year-old whom she assures me sounds the same! “I don’t speak Chinese, mum.” Heeeee

Now if I can just find another girlfriend I haven’t seen in 8 years so I can miss tomorrow’s appointment too…

 

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Death education for Hong Kong high school students

Posted on April 17, 2011 by admin

 

Here Lies The Original Death Education Video I Posted

About a day after I posted, embedding was disabled, to view the video on Youtube click here

The Death Class: A high school in Hong Kong is offering this, there is an additional hope of  stemming an increase in teen suicides.

Hong Kong Public Libraries Leisure and Cultural Services Department also provide a Subject Talk Series on Life & Death Education: Impermanence & Permanence of Life (but seems to be all in Cantonese…)

 

 

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Pyjama Party

Posted on April 16, 2011 by admin

The Rockstar Pyjama Party Moves

Last day before the long Easter hols was Pyjama Day at school… That’s Rockstar busting a move on our bed in what he wore to school that day (pants from bestdressedkids.com, top from Mothercare) to a remix of Itsy Bitsy Spider – some supercool dad posted his own version on YouTube for his son in jazz, country and gangsta rap among others and we’ve been enjoying since…

 

Off To School

I got to read bedtime stories in a cushioned and blanketed area while 3 little girls who had apparently been discussing their music lessons provided impromptu a Capella accompaniment…

School staff were all in Pyjamas or other nightwear… I spy Rockstar’s principal busily striding up and down in bright orange fluffy slippers…

This has got to be the only profession where being at work in bunny slippers gets you loads of respect…

And then in the waiting room I meet a Japanese grandmother who explains via a translation device and another Japanese-speaking mum that she and her 4 year old grandchild just moved here, staying with friends, because of nuclear radiation fears. The child’s parents would be flying over for weekend visits, and in the meantime she would wait each day after school for her grandchild who hadn’t yet gotten used to school buses because the movement brought back memories of the earthquake.

And suddenly stuff like whether your child hits his developmental milestones today or in a few weeks gets a little perspective.

 

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