My parents went to JB last Friday, and like all the other times they go to JB, I fully expected them to come home with a couple of supermarket chickens for dinner, and a baguette or two.
Sure enough, they finally pulled up in our driveway at around 8 p.m., by which time I was ravenous and my tummy was singing for my supper.
My mother, for once, didn't buy any salad or cook any vegetables - she bought fake Yakult instead, and after dinner, told us that we all had to drink some of it because we hadn't had any vegetables.
No offence to anybody, especially if the manufacturers of the fake Yakult had developed the product themselves (though it's unlikely), but it tasted horrible. I got stuck with the orange flavour - and everyone knows fake orange-flavoured anything tastes awful, the only thing with a fake orange flavour I can stand is effervescent Redoxon - and after a few sips I handed it to my father and told him to enjoy it.
Saturday afternoon saw me, my mother, my grandmother, and my J2 brother who is Very Cool and About to Enter Army space out in front of Full House, which L lent me, with the kind words: You'll confirm like it lor. My aunty radar says so.
I've been wanting to blog about the Beijing Exchange Persons 2008 outing to Tea Chapter at Neil Road Thursday before last, but something's wrong with Blogger and I can't upload any pictures. The funniest picture of the day (to me, at any rate) was of Shangren pouring tea with his Zen face: When you pour tea you must have a qian3 cheng2 de4 xin1, so he says, and there I am in the background doing my best impersonation of a disrespectful moose.
We had a great time.
I went for NDP with my mother yesterday. I was supposed to go with Jon but he was sick, which was really disappointing for both of us. For me especially I think, because girls do tend to take these things a little too hard you know? And these tickets were hard-won and long expected, being as they were from one of Jon's friends on the organising committee. We failed to get any from the ballot. I'd been looking forward to the long weekend and fireworks, jostling about with a sea of people in red and singing cheesy National Day songs at the top of our patriotic, compliant lungs.
But no matter, I had a lot of fun with mummy, who was very excited too and we had a good time waving our little Singapore flags and light-up hearts around in time to the music.
I liked this year's NDP a lot (except for the fake terrorist attack) - I thought Ivan Heng did a good job. I especially enjoyed the music, which finally appears to NOT have been arranged by somebody with an alliterative name (oh, YOU know who I'm talking about), and the script which poked fun at bad Singlish and other Singaporean idiosyncrasies. It was kitschy cool, with those cheesy, rather ghoulish "people" borne about on sticks and the moving flower motifs on the big screens when they were introducing the four different races through dance and song. Ivan Heng has taste, and I think he loves Singapore, if not the show wouldn't have been as moving and goosepimply as it was. Just like how Jon thinks Home is so enduring because Dick Lee meant it when he wrote it. That, and the fact that he's talented, of course.
Maybe it was just the wind at the Marina Barrage, and those light-up hearts.
I suppose I'll get flak for this post, especially since there're probably more people than not who thought the NDP was a huge joke and the government would do well to spend the money elsewhere. But I was moved this year, and proud of Singapore and how far we've come - and you know what, I think we do have some semblance of a national identity after all, and I'm proud of that, even if doesn't epitomise sophistication. Ivan Heng managed to capture the essence of it, which is something I think no other NDP has been able to do effectively.
It's the essence of lazy afternoons at a coffeeshop wherever, drinking coffee or tea, eating a pau, popiah, or bak chor mee (that rhymes). Aunties and uncles who cook all that wonderful food, who give you a welcoming smile and know your order even before you say it, because that's what you always eat when you come to their stalls.
Like walking along the Singapore River with a loved one and about half of Singapore, enjoying the lights nonetheless, or listening to xinyao with them.
That kind of thing, you know? I'm sure you have your fond (and un-fond) memories of what makes Singapore home to you.
Wherever you are, there'll always be things which you don't like about a place, things which annoy and irritate you. But I think it's all about making the best of things. And then you'll find that things aren't so bad after all, and that Singapore is a country worthy of our love and pride.
Happy Day After National Day everyone.
Do check back with me when I have to brave rush hour crowds again.
Nah, I'm sure I'll still be fine. There'll be emails with the Aunties and Uncles To Be in the office to look forward to.
Sure enough, they finally pulled up in our driveway at around 8 p.m., by which time I was ravenous and my tummy was singing for my supper.
My mother, for once, didn't buy any salad or cook any vegetables - she bought fake Yakult instead, and after dinner, told us that we all had to drink some of it because we hadn't had any vegetables.
No offence to anybody, especially if the manufacturers of the fake Yakult had developed the product themselves (though it's unlikely), but it tasted horrible. I got stuck with the orange flavour - and everyone knows fake orange-flavoured anything tastes awful, the only thing with a fake orange flavour I can stand is effervescent Redoxon - and after a few sips I handed it to my father and told him to enjoy it.
Saturday afternoon saw me, my mother, my grandmother, and my J2 brother who is Very Cool and About to Enter Army space out in front of Full House, which L lent me, with the kind words: You'll confirm like it lor. My aunty radar says so.
I've been wanting to blog about the Beijing Exchange Persons 2008 outing to Tea Chapter at Neil Road Thursday before last, but something's wrong with Blogger and I can't upload any pictures. The funniest picture of the day (to me, at any rate) was of Shangren pouring tea with his Zen face: When you pour tea you must have a qian3 cheng2 de4 xin1, so he says, and there I am in the background doing my best impersonation of a disrespectful moose.
We had a great time.
I went for NDP with my mother yesterday. I was supposed to go with Jon but he was sick, which was really disappointing for both of us. For me especially I think, because girls do tend to take these things a little too hard you know? And these tickets were hard-won and long expected, being as they were from one of Jon's friends on the organising committee. We failed to get any from the ballot. I'd been looking forward to the long weekend and fireworks, jostling about with a sea of people in red and singing cheesy National Day songs at the top of our patriotic, compliant lungs.
But no matter, I had a lot of fun with mummy, who was very excited too and we had a good time waving our little Singapore flags and light-up hearts around in time to the music.
I liked this year's NDP a lot (except for the fake terrorist attack) - I thought Ivan Heng did a good job. I especially enjoyed the music, which finally appears to NOT have been arranged by somebody with an alliterative name (oh, YOU know who I'm talking about), and the script which poked fun at bad Singlish and other Singaporean idiosyncrasies. It was kitschy cool, with those cheesy, rather ghoulish "people" borne about on sticks and the moving flower motifs on the big screens when they were introducing the four different races through dance and song. Ivan Heng has taste, and I think he loves Singapore, if not the show wouldn't have been as moving and goosepimply as it was. Just like how Jon thinks Home is so enduring because Dick Lee meant it when he wrote it. That, and the fact that he's talented, of course.
Maybe it was just the wind at the Marina Barrage, and those light-up hearts.
I suppose I'll get flak for this post, especially since there're probably more people than not who thought the NDP was a huge joke and the government would do well to spend the money elsewhere. But I was moved this year, and proud of Singapore and how far we've come - and you know what, I think we do have some semblance of a national identity after all, and I'm proud of that, even if doesn't epitomise sophistication. Ivan Heng managed to capture the essence of it, which is something I think no other NDP has been able to do effectively.
It's the essence of lazy afternoons at a coffeeshop wherever, drinking coffee or tea, eating a pau, popiah, or bak chor mee (that rhymes). Aunties and uncles who cook all that wonderful food, who give you a welcoming smile and know your order even before you say it, because that's what you always eat when you come to their stalls.
Like walking along the Singapore River with a loved one and about half of Singapore, enjoying the lights nonetheless, or listening to xinyao with them.
That kind of thing, you know? I'm sure you have your fond (and un-fond) memories of what makes Singapore home to you.
Wherever you are, there'll always be things which you don't like about a place, things which annoy and irritate you. But I think it's all about making the best of things. And then you'll find that things aren't so bad after all, and that Singapore is a country worthy of our love and pride.
Happy Day After National Day everyone.
Do check back with me when I have to brave rush hour crowds again.
Nah, I'm sure I'll still be fine. There'll be emails with the Aunties and Uncles To Be in the office to look forward to.
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