Over six months to go before our big day and my previously sporadic spurts of interest in wedding preparations have finally, finally settled into a somewhat regular rhythm that shows little signs of letting up. Let’s hope I don’t turn into Bridezilla!
Anyhow, as I last updated, we are far from settling on our wedding bands but what do you know, we have settled our ring pillow already! Etsy’s an amazing godsend; I usually look out for fashion stuff on Etsy and I surfed it like crazy last year for ideas to craft Yannisms’ angpow box, but it is only in the past few months that I have truly plundered the sheer depth of talents it plays host to.
Our ring ‘pillow’ is a lovely, original piece, and best of all, it serves as a fitting reminder of the long lovely walk we took around Muir Woods in the winter of 2007, admiring the giant redwood trees while thinking to ourselves we can never get enough of the insanely fresh, sharp scent permeating the woods. We have always loved woodsy stuff, and since we cannot have our dream garden wedding in sickeningly humid Singapore, this will probably give us some consolation. Yayee!
I was doing up a budget for the wedding yesterday. I went through it at least three times, ticking off items mentally and adding on more whenever I remembered something I had missed earlier, such as $X amount for DIY projects, angpow for the sisters and brothers, and even the bridal party’s boutonnieres and corsages. Finally satisfied that I had covered at least 95% of the items required, I logged on to my email account and was about to send the budget off to the fiance. Just before I hit ‘Send’, however, it struck me like a slap to the face that I had completely forgotten to factor in the wedding rings. THE WEDDING RINGS!
Obviously I need to get my wedding priorities in order.
Crap. Another thing I left out of the budget, the JP’s angpow!
I got to know that one of the caterers I was considering was holding a wedding show this weekend. On a whim, I just signed up to attend it anyway, knowing full well I would be on my own in a huge room full of lovey-dovey couples looking to get married. I think being without the fiance these past two years has done me and my self-confidence loads of good, because on the day of the wedding show I was as comfortable in my own skin as I normally am. I caught a few curious looks thrown my way and I was indeed the only one alone there, but I was a woman on a mission, with no time to feel sorry for myself. My bravery paid off after all, because:
A fairly good deal was on offer,
A fellow gym-goer I know by sight (and vice versa) happened to be the caterer’s menu planner and she very kindly offered to work with my sales manager on customising my menu to my tastes,
A colleague was at the wedding show too, with her fiance, and I ended up having company after all!
This weekend’s been a great one for wedding preparations, and I feel I’ve accomplished quite a lot and gotten inspired by many lovely ideas. A number of transactions have been put in motion, and I hope to get them settled and underway soon. I can’t wait!
I’m jittery with excitement over the fiance’s return in December; he’s been away for over two years now and I’m just so glad to have him back soon. The only catch is, it feels weird not to be preparing to fly up to the US of A this December, like I’ve been doing for the past two years.
From buying nice Christmas presents for him (usually in the form of pre-packed local food mixes such as Prima Taste’s Curry Chicken and Laksa) to shopping around for clothes that would keep me warm in case winter temperatures dip to mutha-effing sub-zero levels, there was always that frisson of anticipation about spending Christmas and New Year’s together in a foreign land. Besides, I really do like the US.
I dig the crazy Christmas sales; I don’t think I will ever get Kate Spade bags at such bargains in my entire life again, I should have just listened to Kaiwen instead of the fiance. I love the vast bounty of natural beauty there, from the majestic Niagara Falls to the giant redwood forest of Muir Woods. I feel liberated just walking down the streets of San Francisco and New York, probably the two most cosmopolitan cities in the US, where I can dress as outlandishly as I want to without anyone batting an eyelid. In fact, I would have done just that if only the cold was less bone-biting. Most of all, I admire how there is so much space there is for everyone, literally and figuratively.
Anyway, I got carried away, so sorry. What I really wanted to write about was how one of the things I miss most about the US is rootling through Sur La Table. Although everyone raves about Pantry Magic in Holland Village, and I must qualify here that I do like it as well, it really pales in comparison to the wonders of Sur La Table. Sure, Pantry Magic was fun, but it seems to cater more to bakers and I would have gotten bored after 15 minutes if I hadn’t been searching for chocolate moulds for Sandy. Sur la Table, on the other hand, offers every single good shit you can imagine for your kitchen. I got so worked up in there that I ended up buying four shellfish picks, just because I wanted to buy something from there and we had just used similar picks to demolish a Dungeness crab minutes before.
My caption for these two photos of the Sur La Table at San Francisco’s Ferry Plaza Market read: “Retailing novelty kitchen and dining items, this is a fantastic place for passionate home cooks and cooking professionals alike. While browsing around, XH and I said to each other that Sandy would go mad in here.”
I think I can quite safely add Dotz’s and Yannisms’ names to the list. Man, what wouldn’t I give to have a Sur La Table or one of its ilk right here in Singapore!
I know more than a few colleagues who join the company, like me, because of their interest in the industry. One thing usually gives us away, and that is our almost geeky fetish for committing to memory as many three-letter airport identifier codes and two-letter airline codes as we possibly can, especially the more obscure ones. Where on earth exactly are IAH and DME? Do AA, CO and QF fly to ICN from SIN?
To complicate matters further, cities also have their own three-letter codes, so people tend to have a tendency to mix up the airport codes with the city codes. For example, CDG (Charles de Gaulle airport) serves PAR, or the city of Paris. It should thus be Station Manager CDG, not Station Manager PAR, or so I’ve been told. Interesting, isn’t it? Okay, maybe not.
Anyway, for those who are interested, I found this article on how airport codes came about, while surfing around. For your reading pleasure, have a good weekend everyone!
JH told me about this wedding video currently making the rounds on Facebook and Youtube, produced by MooMedia for a newly married couple who are both alumnus of my alma maters – Dunman High and Victoria Junior College. A large part of the video chronicles their courtship in the former, which explains why it is supposedly hugely popular with ex-DHS people. I finally looked it up and watched it today, and it brought back so many memories of my time in Dunman, albeit without the fiance (who is a VS boy).
From that ridiculous uniform with the trademark metal buttons and sheer melting pot of talents and weirdos (to make it really Dunman, there were of course an erhu player and a poetry recital specialist) to one particularly famous and instantly recognisable mole and that oh-so-familiar classroom layout and black windows, the video reminded me forcefully and poignantly that my four years in Dunman made up the best time of my entire schooling life.
In JC, people from other schools loved making fun of how cheena, how sartorially pathetic and maniacally studious we were. That was true to a certain extent, I guess. But you know what, I took away from my cheena education a lifelong appreciation for Chinese culture and heritage, and I now have the best of both worlds, linguistically speaking. My oldest and best friends are my Dunman classmates, and they’ve been an integral part of me for even longer than my beloved fiance has. I remember all the silliest things, like how our class had both the tallest girl and the tallest guy in the entire level, how we were forbidden to leave our school texts overnight in the desk drawers as we were expected to bring them home to study, how a few of us rebellious ones left our books in the drawers anyway and they were confiscated and we had to go through loads of drama to get them back. Leon Lai once visited our school and the entire student and teacher population went bat-shit crazy, especially our Chinese exchange students; I had never seen them move so fast. I looked forward all the time to all our festive celebrations and performances, I loved poetry recital and choir concerts, and I lived for those days when the Malay stall sold nasi bryani and the Western stall had chicken chop special.
Maybe it’s not Dunman itself that made my four years there a great time. Perhaps it’s just that in that four years I grew up, learnt a lot about myself, fell in and out of love for the first (and more) time(s), found my voice and learnt to love singing, discovered the joy of literature, among many other things, hence that unshakeable fondness for this alma mater that I very honestly never felt for VJC (in spite of the fiance and in spite of choir).
But never mind my inconsequential reminiscences. This video is a perfect mix of cheesiness and from-the-heart simplicity, with the Dunman identity stamped all over it, especially the soundtrack (小虎队 and 草蜢, OMG!!!). Just goes to show that weddings don’t always need to be cool or sophisticated or edgy or different or gimmicky, as long as they are warm, genuine and from the heart. After all, what is love all about?
My favourite bit is when they move on from recounting their courtship to chronicling their journey through the following years together, from VJ to NS then university and thereafter – a journey that looks damned simple and sweet onscreen but God only knows how much tears and effort went into holding on together in the 10 years they’ve been together. Just like the fiance and I. As I watched the video, I just felt so, so, so happy for these two complete strangers and I can only imagine how lovely an experience during filming it must have been for them, to re-visit the school that housed so many happy and romantic memories.
What counts more is really one’s state of mind; you can be 40 but with the energy and vibrance of a 28-year-old, or you can be 28 and already jaded and hemmed in by conventions. I see people at work so prim and proper who believe in acting a certain way just because they are no longer of a certain age, or because they feel they must put forth a certain image that befits their station, and I think to myself: where is the joy in their life? I may have turned a year older a day ago, but I never want to stop seeing beauty in simple things like the deep green of trees silhouetted against bright blue skies and the ombre hues of fuchsia, orange and grey spreading across the horizon at sunset; I hope I continue in future years to find fun in bopping my head while singing along to the strains of my iPod’s music library at work, without a care for what others may think of me.
Probably the fourth or fifth bouquet of flowers I’ve received from the fiance in our 10 years together. I’m not big on flowers, and stuck in the middle of this otherwise pretty bouquet were two glittery Barbie pink hearts (shudders, I wonder what he was thinking???), but the thought means the world to me. Thanks, darling. I Love Us =)
Sri Lanka has got to be the greenest, most verdant country I’ve visited. Everywhere we went, there was lush vegatation, trees and woods. Sunlight was aplenty, and it was amazingly less humid than our little red dot of an island. There were lovely views to be had and enjoyed everywhere, from the cool tea-growing highlands of Nuwara Eliya to the religious capital and UNESCO World Heritage Site of Kandy, where an artificial lake runs through the city and makes for a picturesque portrait.
Remnants of the country’s colonial heritage remain in abundance, standing harmoniously and side by side with local culture. It’s amazing to me that after 30 years of civil war, the country has held on to all it has presently and is seeking to stand on its own two feet and rebuild itself despite being obviously scarred from all the infighting. There is so much poverty around, and while it seeks to court international tourists in the reigning peace, there remains much to be done in terms of infrastructure, education and thematic segmentation and marketing of its varied attractions.
While I was there, I was unable to enjoy myself fully for a reason and kept wishing to return home as soon as possible, but now that I’m home I wish I could have stayed there longer. Yet, if you ask me now, I’m not sure I will make the effort to return any time soon. One thing I’m sure of though, Sri Lanka does have a lot to offer the world in general and it surely deserves a shot at peace and prosperity after prolonged bloodshed among its people.
While there, we had the opportunity to speak with a Buddhist monk who had invited our group into his temple’s museum of artefacts and relics. I came away somewhat bemused and surprised that as a member of the clergy of a religion (loosely speaking, as Buddhism is not seen as a religion in some quarters) that espouses peace, the clearly articulate and well-educated monk would openly hail the war-led victory of the reigning government over the LTTE. Clearly, the country and its people have a lot of healing to do. And I wish them all the best.
More Sri Lanka photos here; I was too shy and ashamed of my humble Canon p&s in the midst of a sheer gaggle of journalists with high-end DSLRs and assorted telephoto lenses to shoot much.
“Don’t take pity on the beggars, because once you give one money, the rest of the pack will latch themselves on you…”
“Eldest Uncle was working there for a while and he said the food vendors’ goods were always covered in flies…”
“Did you remember to buy medication for stomach upset and food poisoning? You didn’t? How can you, knowing you are going to Sri Lanka?”
“Here is a door stopper. You must bring it with you ok, wedge it under the door of your hotel room every night after you bolt it. Stack whatever chairs you have against the door, and windows too, if there are more chairs.”
“Are you sure that small suitcase is enough? I don’t understand you, you will be there for almost a whole week. Why don’t you just bring a bigger suitcase instead, just in case you run out of luggage space?”
Okay, that’s enough, stop it already. I am so tired of all these well-meant advice from my parents, who just want me to be safe in Sri Lanka, but honestly, the pair of them can nag the birds off the trees if given enough time. I’ve lost count of the number of times I dragged out a disgruntled “Yeeeessssss?” everytime they yelled for me today, as well as the number of times I had to bite back a snappy reply like “ENOUGH!!!” or “SHUT UP!” to their seemingly endless stream of questions.
I’m an adult. I’m going to Sri Lanka for work and my group will be hosted by the Sri Lanka Tourism Promotion Bureau. I’m not there for leisure or shopping (though I think I may end up with a mountain of tea-related souvenirs), and I sure as hell am not going to place myself in danger needlessly by wandering about foolishly in a foreign land.
Is there anything more annoying than a pair of naggy parents?
