das Wochenende

Minou

Talking to J made me think of T. With much apprehension, I dial his number. Expectedly, the phone rings torturing me as it continues. Eventually, I reach T’s voicemail which I struggle to understand to, as it is in a language I barely remember much less speak.

For a moment, I consider leaving a message and realise quickly that I have over stepped my boundaries by calling.

Quickly, I place the receiver down. It is not fair to T that I want to know that he is ok. It is not fair at all. I walked out, again. As I stare down the phone for an answer, and just as suddenly I decide to try once more.

Just once more, I tell myself.

In two seconds, I am met with a familiar Parisian accent. We need to talk, please. T is living the life that he wanted for us, except I am no longer there. Is that fair? I am doing exactly what I want to do, except it is without him. Is that fair?

The Perfect Saturday

India has a way to making you appreciate the little things in life. After witnessing a roadside accident on route to the airport, I missed the serenity of Singapore. The date was set before I even left so it was certainly marked down in iCal.

Giggles, and guffaws. Little Mrs Holland Lollipop is all packed to a place where there are more cows than human beings. A cocktail would be cherry on the terribly decadent cake, but seeing how I’m off alkie and meat. It was absolutely more than a girl could ask for.

At the risk of sounding terribly Singaporean, this is a real case of “eyes bigger than stomach”. A was kind enough to share this with me. Dee vine.

Yes. I’ll marry you if you can make me pancakes for breakfast in bed every Sunday. I’m easy like that.

Kolkata, India

Calcutta (Kolkata) was a complete culture shock for my organised Singaporean system. From the time I stepped off the tarmac, I was greeted by a symphony of chaos, smog and sheer insanity.

Imagine rush hour traffic 24/7, mixed with a full dose of 8 million people talking ALL AT ONCE, essence of dried up pee, a whiff of decomposing refuse, throw in a dash of circa 1950s yellow Ambassador cabs blowing their horns at a rate of once per every other second and just for fun *makes Russell Peters Indian accent* add emancipated street mongrels as well as the occasional skeletal cow or two. That’s Kolkata.

The city is a myraid of many things – diverse, colourful yet extremely heartbreaking and sad. Inevitably, I could not help but think of Chutney and compare his life to the life of an average slum child. Chutney’s life seems like an absolute blessing. Yet, the Kolkata-ites are happy. You smile at them and you get an absolute genuine smile in return.

Stop.

Stop this train
I wanna get off
And go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
But honestly, won’t someone stop this train?

Fragile

If this doesn’t make you appreciate your time with your loved ones, I am not sure anything might.

Where’s my space ship already?

As imaginative tots when asked to draw what 2010 might look like, we came up all sketches worthy of a NASA scientist having an epileptic fit.  While we are no where close to gallivanting about in a floating shiny silver tin can, we have found alternative means for energy, a step closer to creating blood and, we’re still fighting tooth and nail in our search for an alternate space to live just in case, Earth decides to konk out on us.

Last year, I scratched off a couple of “must do’s” from my ambitious list. Truth be told, the list is anything but frivolous.  “For better or for worse, it is the voice in my head reminding me to do better.” Some people have naggy mothers, I have a list.

Chutney’s thing.

Chutney has a rather shameful fetish. The poor boy loves feet. Toes, to be exact. If you were to hazard a guess on any given Sunday about what’s on Chutney’s mind, it’d likely read like this – TOES. I WANT ME SOME TOES. MMMM TOES.

He shocked the Postman this morning. After apologising profusely, I realised what Mr P had in his hands.

My elusive Audrey Kawasaki piece! Yes! Santa still loves me after all.

Compliments of the season!

LF snuck out of a corporate do and in a healthy role reversal, I drove by to pick him up. The plans were to steer clear from the bottle but, I could not resist.

My archilles’ heel was in the form of a gorgeous Gerwertztraminer, 2006. As delicious as it was, I found myself yearning for a good red. Comes with the season, I suppose.

I did wish that I was better dressed for dinner. Truthfully, I have a level of admiration for women who preen flawlessly. Most days, I struggle to make sure that I have enough sunscreen on. Yet, there they are, all coiffed and decked in their Sunday best, all the time.

New resolution: Be well-dressed all the time.

Merry Christmas!

It’s about time.

“The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be” – Ralph W. Emerson

SH is up for sale, I was hoping that something would come up that would allow me to keep SH’s beautiful fragile self. It is not to be.