bread crumbs and candy cottage

New York VS Singapore

2009-12-26T23:16:07Z

When I was in New York, I missed Singapore but now that I'm back, I'm thinking of returning to New York. I miss New York. I miss the good and bad of New York. The cultural activities, the buzz and the first-class education but also the lowdown, rats in subways and the trudge with heavy organic groceries in the -15 degrees celsius (5 fahrenheit) blizzard, winds so strong you can barely walk. It was a very difficult life but I don't mind hardships. When I needed to move apartments three times, I did it on my own. I carried boxes and walked a few streets to my new place and then walked back to carry more boxes. When the bulb fused, I changed it. When I was hungry, I cooked. When the shelf needed to be assembled by two persons, I alone put it up. When I was ill, I slept it out. When I hurt my foot, I limped to school for 2 months.

Four years ago, I wasn't prepared to leave Singapore. I returned to salvage my relationship but now that it is utterly demolished, and now that I realize how friends are distanced as we get older, and now that I know if I go to New York this time, it is for good, I feel like I can fly, fly past the nets of emotional baggage, start afresh, make new friends, put myself out there.

I'm taking my time to consider this. XH told me to draw a list of pros and cons. Here they are:

Pros
-Good for my career
-Independence
-Freedom
-Better access to books
-Feels like I'm a human being, treated with respect
-Gym three blocks from my old residence
-Organic food (better health)
-meet renowned authors

Cons
-No friends, no family, no one to help me when I am ill, nobody knows if I were to die
-No money
-bad weather, can't stand the cold
-loneliness
-takes subway all the time
-extremely dirty
-rude people
-have to cook myself, or eat out (expensive or unhealthy and not very tasty)
-an exhausting and unhappy life of hardship
-I don't make friends easily and I don't want to mix with Singaporeans

Quote of the Day: Drinking Kills

2009-12-25T21:43:21Z

laremylee : Like a raisin trying to be a grape again.

Me: need moisturizer?

laremylee : Haha! I didn't see it that way.

I made lunch and there were raisins in the rice (don't ask why). The raisins had swelled up in the rice cooker and when I saw it at first, I thought: oh how cute, a raisin trying to be a grape again.

Then I felt sad for it, because I realised it was the grape that had died.

Me: eh, don't drink wine. At least raisins can aspire to be grapes. Wine is irreversible grape, grape abused and beaten to worse than pulp, into juice. that gotta hurt. Poor grapes. Worst, after they are made into juice, they ferment, like you know corpse rotting. Wine is rotten dead bodies, necrophilia. Very bad!

Lesbians at Play

2009-12-25T21:08:52Z

It was Lesbian Night at the gay club, Play. I always like going to lesbian places because I can relax and don't need to men-watch. Actually, no, that's not true. I secretly think I'm a lesbian trapped in a gay man's body. Some butches are so boyish, the pretty-boy-kind I like, so much cuter than gay men that my gaydar went haywire. There were gay boys in the club but the only boy I liked is a girl. WHY AM I NOT BORN A LESBIAN? LIFE IS UNFAIR.

Lesbian's entertainment is so much more interesting, funny, straightforward and intellectual than gay men's. Gay men's shows involve only drag queens and their tired crass jokes and small-cocked hunks parading in speedos stuffed with socks. Hilarious Irene Ang was the host and she played "Fill in the lyrics." She asked what line followed these in the song "Little Drummer Boy": "Come they told me/ Pa rum pum pum pum/ A new born king to see/ Pa rum pum pum pum/ Our finest gifts we bring/ ____ ____ ___ ___ ___."

Then she put 10 cherries in a glass and asked contestants to suck, lick, tongue the cherries out of the glass and pass it mouth-to-mouth to the audience. So fun!

My lesbian friend introduced me to Joey and Joey said, "That's not my name." My friend corrected herself and re-introduced Joey as "Vap." I like Joey/Vap, she seems sincere and friendly unlike most butches who are very aggressive to men.

When Joey/Vap left,

Friend: Do you know why she changed her name to Vap?

Me: Bab?

Friend: No, Vap.

Me: B-A-P?

Friend: No, V-A-P.

Me: Oh, Vap.

Friend: Do you know the significance behind her name?

Me: Viper? Vamp? Vapour?

Friend: Quite close to vapour.

Me: I give up.

Friend: It's because she wants to e-VAP-orate from this world.

At this point, I couldn't stop laughing.

Me: Are you..haha..serious? hahaha.

Friend: Yeah, she's very emo. She told us herself.

Me: Did you laugh in her face when she told you?

Friend: No.

Me: Haha. I would have! and then call her out on being so emo. Why doesn't she call herself EVAP or PORATE? Sounds better than Vap! And makes her meaning clearer. Haha.

When I write my novel, one of my characters will be named VAP!

7-Course Xmas Dinner at Privé Restaurant

2009-12-24T19:48:29Z

Having gone to three Michelin-starred restaurants (two in New York and one in London), I thought nothing could impress me at Privé although I was still agog with anticipation to eat the sumptuous Christmas Eve Menu. In fact, I was so excited that--our reservation was at 8--I had salivated at the thought of the food for the past few days, my heart raced like a hare at 4pm and at 6pm, I was sweating in delirium. You know, you'll always be disappointed by things you've been waiting for---but this isn't one of them.

To reach Privé, you have to drive onto a tiny, tiny island, through a suspended bridge, passing bird of paradise plants and coconut trees decorated with bluish-white lights. A beautiful drive. At Keppel Bay where all the rich people park their yachts, Privé the Bakery is by the dock and yachts but we walked past the Bakery into Privé the Restaurant, tucked at a corner. My sister liked the relaxed atmosphere of the Bakery but no, not I. I am all for exclusivity and class. (Isaac would say at this point of time, "I didn't know people who read can be so superficial.") The Restaurant is very exclusive, with seats that can accommodate only about 60 people. It is so exclusive that the heavy curtains are shut tight, refusing to let the public peep in. The table has, not one, not two but three layers of table cloth: the top, white satin, the bottom, white cotton, and in between, a gold but rough flax lace. The service was prompt and the servers were polite without being sycophantic. However, because the restaurant is so small, we could hear the loud gay white guy at the other end. I could get used to this sort of life.

Picture 1: Walnut with raisin bun; focaccia and (not featured) taro bun. We--my sister, Sho and I but not the blase morbidity80--were so awed by the gratis bread. You break the piping hot bun and see steam spiraling. You put a slab of butter and it melts. Coming from a person who doesn't like bread, this counts a lot: All the bread tasted so heavenly and sweet with their distinctive taste of walnut or herbs or taro. My sister especially loves the butter, creamy without being oily or heavy and a refreshing aftertaste lingered in the mouth.

Chef's amuse-bouche, cherry tomato with goat's cheese: you pop in the mouth and it's gone. The juice bursts but that's what tomatoes do. A pleasing, refreshing appetizer, not extremely unique.

Citrus-cured Tasmanian Ocean Trout with Soy Dressing, Marinated Cucumber and Roe: Very fresh, tender yet firm. And it's from the ocean, not fish farms.

Watermelon salad with tomatoes, strawberries and Sangria granite: morbidity said this is his favorite dish but I don't know. Vegetables taste alike to me but maybe alcoholic veg tastes different.

Hokkaido scallop with roe, custard, asparagus and beurre blanc (white butter) and foi gras with figs, puff pastry and spinach: We argued over which the Dish of the Day was. I have always hated plain tofu but the crispy, not oily, tofu wrapped in asparagus strip (hiding behind the scallop) had taste! The custard complemented the scallop perfectly, robbed the brine away from the scallop; there can never be such a tag team. The crisp of the tofu contrasted with the bounce of the scallop, layering different textures to the perfect dish.

But the foi gras- WOAH. I've never eaten foi gras like this before. Foi gras without the hint of the bloody liver. The outside was pan-seared to a crisp but inside it was molten. MOLTEN, a fourth state of existence between solid and liquid. The foi gras was more perfect than perfect. Unfortunately, the puff pastry beneath the foi gras ruined the dish.; it was pastry without taste.

Turkey Breast with brown butter, pickled vegetables and glazed cranberries; Fresh Young Pigeon with baby carrots, porcini mushrooms and Taylor's port sauce; Barramundi with caramelized eschalot, shimeji mushroom, broccolini, and sauce bordelaise: Shovan ordered the Turkey. I liked it when I ate a morsel--it was chewy but not tough--but I cannot remember the taste now.

Ray and I ordered the Pigeon. Morbidity said, "It's a young and fresh pigeon from France! What are you waiting for?" That's why he's my BFF. He knows I like young meat. I love baby carrots but the menu should have said "carrot" not "carrots." Not knowing that the leg was tough, I gave it to Sho and my sister and devoured the fat-laden breast, so tender and juicy that while I was eating, I was salivating thinking of eating the next piece. It tasted like a very soft venison. The porcini mushrooms were to die for.

My sister ordered the fish, which had the biggest portion. The fish had soaked up the sauce bordelaise but there was still a fishy aftertaste.

Calvados Gelee with Granny Smith Foam and White Chocolate log cake with griottine cherries and cranberry compote: I love desserts, it's my favorite part of the meal. No matter how stuffed I am, dessert belongs to a separate stomach. The desserts were good, especially the surprise alcohol cherries in the middle of the log cake. Good but not heavenly.

We had tea with petit fours and chocolate-coated biscuits. In the car, I told my sister my tea was pretty good but I don't know if it was because of the brown sugar (usually I don't add sugar). She said, "Chey! Teas are all the same...but my coffee was good too. Not too scalding, just the right temperature for coffee."

Rating:

Chrysalis Spa - Fail

2009-12-24T17:33:15Z

Rich and I received a $300 spa voucher each for Chrysalis Spa.

Called on Monday to book for Tuesday at 3pm. On Tuesday, at about 2.40pm, Rich and I were already outside the building when Chrysalis called to say that my appointment for Wednesday was double-booked and we needed to reschedule.

I said, "No, we book for today at 3, not Wednesday at 3."

The lady at the end of the line was flustered, unfocused. She said today was fully booked too and suggested we come on Thursday, and Rich and I said fine. Then she said, "No sorry, we're fully booked on Wednesday and Thursday too." After 10 minutes of negotiation on the phone, Rich was angry and instructed me to tell the lady on the line that we would be there in 5 minutes.

We went to the spa and they allowed us for the massage immediately. Rich said, "They are not fully booked at all. It's because we're using vouchers and they prefer paying customers." Such a rogue company.

A $300 voucher will at least yield 3 hours of massage - but no, the spa said only an hour.

The massage was nothing to boast about; it was done perfunctorily, very slipshod work. And the massage lasted for only about 30 minutes and then the masseuse left hot herbal teabags on my back and left. After the massage, the spa did not have shower facilities to wash off the massage oil, making me uncomfortable throughout the day.

Two minor good points are: 1. the aunty-masseuse was friendly but that may be because all aunties like me; 2. The place is well-decorated.

After the massage, the manager tried to hard-sell me a package. When I said I needed to think about it, she said, "This is a one-time offer only. When you walk out of this place, you won't get the price anymore." I insisted that I needed time and she said, "Why don't you sign with us on the account that you didn't have an appointment and we let you in anyway?"

WTH? We made appointment but they screwed it up.

So I still said no, and all of a sudden, without saying anything, she picked her things up in a huff, flipped her hair and walked away. She didn't say Thank You, Goodbye, see you again. What sort of service was this?

Rating:

Favorite Movies of the Decade, 2000-2009 - Avatar is not great

2009-12-22T20:44:05Z

moroccomole did a top 10 and since I have a phd certificate in films, I want to do it too. But excuse me, I've been catching up on old films, and haven't been fervently following new ones. These movies are very personal and touch me in one way or another. They say more about me than the merits of the film.

In no particular order,

1. The King and the Clown (Korea, Jun-ik Lee, 2005)
2. Blue Gate Crossing (Taiwan, Chih-yee Yen, 2002)
3. Brokeback Mountain (USA, Ang Lee, 2005)
4. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (USA, Michael Gondry, 2004)
5. Broken Sky (Mexico, Julian Hernandez, 2006)
6. O Fantasma (Portugal, Joao Pedro Rodrigues, 2000)
7. The Incredibles (USA, Brad Bird, 2004)
8. Talk to Her (Spain, Pedro Almodovar, 2002)
9. In the Mood for Love (Hong Kong, Kar-wai Wong, 2000)
10. Goodbye Dragon Inn (Taiwan, Ming-liang Tsai, 2003)

Honorable Mentions:
1. Anything by Charlie Kaufman (Synecdoche, New York; Eternal Sunshine; Adaptation; Being John Malkovich)
2. Anything by Christopher Nolan (Dark Knight; Prestige; Memento; etc)
3. Infernal Affairs (Hong Kong, Wai-Keung Lau and Alan Mak, 2002) - Best Crime Movie of the Decade
4. Let the Right One In (Sweden, TomasAlfredson, 2008) - Best Vampire Movie of the Decade (Sorry it didn't go to Twilight; it was a close second.)
5. Some of Alfonso Cuaron's work like Children of Men and Y tu mama tambien but not the Harry Potter one.

THIS IS HOW I CHANGE THE WORLD - ONE STEP AT A TIME

2009-12-22T00:28:43Z

Dear Prof hansel25 ,

Greetings!

I'm not sure if you remember me. I was in your English class Fall 2007 at Queens College. You wrote me a rec. to NYU...

I just wanted to send a warm thank you for writing me a recommendation letter to NYU two years ago now. I'll be graduating in May and I just have to say that my experience at NYU has been incredible so far. It was because of your English class that I actually had a chance to see what I truly love learning about (English of course!). I just want to let you know that I'm graduating in Special Education and Childhood Education with a concentration in English to continue my love for learning and my passion for literature.

I hope you know that you have touched one of your student's lives.

Have a great holiday season & and a joyous New Year!!

*

Dear N---

Thank you for the very kind note and of course I remember you! You were and are one of my most brilliant students.

If you think I've helped you, then I want you to repay me the favor, pay it forward. Go out and change the world. Use everything you have learned from me and your excellent teachers to get rid of the hate and hostility and fear. Make sure every Latin-American/Black/Asian is as equal as her White counterpart; keep gay people away from hate crimes and prejudice; and let every girl have the same opportunity as every boy. No anger, no abuse. Speak up for those who have no voice. This will be your best Christmas present to me.

You're a smart girl, much smarter than I ever will be. You will figure out how to go about doing this. Now change things. This is your time.

Best wishes.

Quote of the Day: Cutest Boys on Sofa

2009-12-21T07:35:28Z

One of the things I like about Bryan is he is open and honest, and another I like is even though I know and he knows that I can fend for myself, he is protective of me.

At the gathering, Jason the Pretty Boy, Bryan, Richard the Hunk and I were seating on the expensive sofa and an aunty faghag plonked herself right in the middle, so we were all cuddly, very cosy.

She said, "I'll be going to take a 3-month holiday."

Rich asked, "Where to? For what?"

"To look for men," she said and giggled.

I said, "What for? You're already surrounded by the four hottest men at this party."

She threw her head back and laughed and laughed and she said good-humoredly, almost coquettishly, "You're so shameless."

Bryan said, "He's only telling the truth. There is a pretty boy, a hunk and," pointing to me, "a handsome man. And shamelessness is a good trait!"

Ok I admit I'm just quoting people whenever they say I'm handsome. <3 If you want to appear on my blog, read by 50-80 people daily, just call me handsome!

Christmas Desserts

2009-12-21T07:05:27Z

The food at the gathering was nothing to boast about. Once, I turned to Rick the Hunk and said, "Wow, the food is very..er.. healthy, no salt."

But the desserts were wonderfully saccharine and traditionally Christmassy, made by an English lady who used to be a restaurateur in London.

Santa came all over the Chocolate Cheese Cake. Which is my favorite dessert of the night.

Eating off frosty's plum pudding. Nasty. In a good way. Slightly sour plums go very well with icing.

Plum pie or is it peach pie? It looks like a giant samosa but this was very delicious, full of the goodness of rum. Freshly baked, crispy, fragrant, sweet and still warm, like grandmother's kitchen on a snowy night.

I insisted that the far white cube thing is tom-yam-without-chilli ice cream but--pfff!--these people are so unimaginative and stodgy and argued that tom yam must have chilli. But what do you call a home made ice cream with lemongrass and ginger and coconut milk! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!

Apple pie is in the foreground. Shenn's apple pie is still the best.

A dessert that is not photographed--not photographed because it was gone before anyone thought of taking photos--is banana in caramel. Very divine.

Picture of the Day: Spot the Difference

2009-12-20T17:28:47Z

I spotted the difference immediately. Can you? And of course I must get the book that is different from the rest. Poor castrated book, it must be feeling inferior.

Xmas Gathering - Jason and Bryan

2009-12-20T17:19:50Z

Long time ago, the radio announced a research that stated about 80% of school children have great friends; 10% are moderately happy; and 8% are alone and lonely. My ex turned to me and teased, "You're the 8%." I laughed and said, "That is true," and pretended to pout. Whenever I went out with my friends, my ex would say, "Going out with your imaginary friends again?" When I told my sister this statistics, she asked, "How? How come we both belong to the 8%?"

NO MORE. Do not tease me anymore because I was quadruple-invited: the movie outing, the hotpot gathering, Aaron and Luke's dinner and volunteers' dinner. I went for the last one because they asked me first.

Julie's house was HUGE. with maybe 10 rooms, three balconies and a jacuzzi. Furnished with antiques. Three storeys, atop a hill, overlooking the East Coast, you can see far enough into town. Surprising it costs only 5 million.

Bryan, the one who calls me handsome, was there too and is very, very sweet, gave me copies of Crystal Boys, a Taiwanese gay drama which I have been looking for ages. The immense liking I have for him is so embarrassing that I am afraid it might be misconstrued as something more. I want to stick around him, want to know more about him, want to go out with him but I want to do all these only as a friend. Is it strange? So for the entire night, I avoided him.

I can see why Jason, his boyfriend, is so in love with him. It has been three years but when Bryan talks to Jason, Jason's face lights up. Bryan is open and inquisitive and comfortable to be with, he's the center of attraction, the life of the party. Jason is the exact opposite ; he is fair and reserved and shy and very clean-cut, a girly boy (my type!); he is pretty to Bryan's manliness. But when Jason is with Bryan, he is transformed and becomes a different person, more sociable and less suspicious and more at ease. When they talk, the love effuses in Jason's voice. It cannot be faked. It was as simple as "What drink do you want? Or do you want water? I have it in my bag" and yet Jason's pure love was so magnificent, so munificent that it surrounded even its eavesdroppers. It made me very, very happy.

When Jason left to get food for Bryan, I said, "You can really tell Jason loves you a lot."

"Yeah, I don't treat him half as good as he deserves," he sighed.

This was the umpteenth time he repeated this sentence and as any decent English literature major will tell you, repetitions are important. They usually emphasize the truth or lies. In this case, I'm calling his bluff. I think perhaps Bryan wants to believe in a pure love but his bitter past won't allow him to. Or maybe he's just playing the Bad Boy card. If Bryan breaks Jason's heart, Jason will never love again; that's how cynicism sets in. Let me observe them further. Catch Jason and Bryan in the next episode of The Days of Others' Lives. What to do, no love then live vicariously through others.

ps: According to Bryan, this is the Porno Tellytubby and when he bounces, he sticks his stick on his head out and thrusts his pelvis. Luckily he isn't the one with the scooter that goes "fi di fi di" (faster faster). If not he will be known as the premature ejaculator.

Quote of the Day: Difficulty

2009-12-19T19:59:38Z

Sho: hansel25, it's difficult to find someone you can talk to.

Sister: Are you saying my brother is difficult?

The Most Subversive Show on TV/ Worst Restaurant Ever

2009-12-18T21:11:02Z

1. The honor belongs to Coffee Prince, a Korean drama shown on Channel U (have to say Channel U is more progressive than homophobic Channel 8 which portrays all gay men as effeminate or serial killers and you can get HIV by saliva, I endorse U).

Coffee Prince is a Victor/Victoria, 金枝玉叶 (She's a man, He's a woman) story. The very handsome rich loving guy opens a coffee shop which hires only men. He falls in love with one of them and questions his sexuality. In today's episode, after much deliberating and pain and agony over his sexuality, he comes out of the closet and says to her, without knowing she is a she, "I will only tell you this once: I like you. I don't know how to do this, or where we will go. We'll take a step at a time."

Later, he learns that she is female and gets very angry and depressed at being lied to. Can you imagine?!? The protagonist wants to be gay! He says to her in tears and anger, "Tell me you're lying to me. Tell me you're NOT a woman." To which, my sister turned to me and said, "He's in denial...of being straight." Super subversive show!

Not only that, the employees of the coffee shop are so gay. There is an uncle, a sissy with painted nails (who acted in a gay movie Antique Bakery), a hunk (who unfortunately died in a car crash in real life), and a twink who, it was implied, seems to love the handsome rich guy. Along with Ji-hwan Kang, Gong Yoo, the rich guy, is becoming one of my favorite actors. I admit I have a thing for curly hair men with small eyes. Here is a picture of him with his crew of fags (in case you cannot tell, girl in front):

2. Isaac was late and asked me to go into Qun Zhong Eating House (群众) and order for us first. Qun Zhong means the public but it is not serving the public at all.

I went in alone and the rude boss said, "YES?"

I said very politely, "Table for two."

He said, again in a brusque manner, "IS EVERYONE HERE YET?"

Is he blind? But I still said politely, "No."

"THEN YOU GO OUTSIDE AND WAIT UNTIL EVERYONE IS HERE."

I was still polite: "Uncle, I can sit down and order straight away. You can serve your dishes immediately."

"CANNOT. NO SEATS."

Bloody hell, there were three empty tables, out of which one was a large one, enough to sit ten people. At this point of time, I stalked out and will never return again.

I wasn't really angry--because there isn't a point to being angry--but I don't think anyone, whether or not the person is in the service industry, should give such an attitude. On the same road, Neil Road, is Sin Lee Restaurant, the one I gave 5 stars. Ironic that the best and worst of restaurants are next to each other. Beware which one you step into. And besides Chinatown has too many good eateries. You throw a stone and you've one in two chances of hitting a good restaurant. The other stone will hit a whore or money boy.

Isaac said later, "The food is good, but not that good that I would take such shit service."

Oh before dinner, I ran into The Artist. Quite a coincidence huh. He was looking to rent a shop space to exhibit his work. Since if he's sponsored he won't need to run about, my guess is The Fly is paying for the rent. Sigh, want money don't want love. When did kids--Artist is only 21--become so cynical?

新利园 - Chinese food, you have never been photogenic

2009-12-16T16:07:26Z

This makes it into my top ten eating experiences. Everything was delicious! We ordered [pictured from left to right] ostrich with ginger and green onion; tofu with crab meat and roe; black pepper crocodile; and egg fried rice with scallops and prawns. Ostrich and crocodile meat, sister's and Sho's favorites respectively, were surprisingly soft and tender and chewy and melted in the mouth. Ostrich tastes like venison and so it matched very well with ginger and green onion; the crocodile tastes like zesty chicken and its aroma wasn't at all overpowered by the black pepper sauce. The crab meat and roe sauce of the tofu was a little salty if you are merely drinking it on its own but if you drizzle it over rice, the taste was divine. The normally bland tofu had soaked in the sauce, giving the tofu a seafood flavor.

My favorite, however, is the fried rice with scallop and prawn. (My sister said that my dish is the cheapest!) But I think the dish is the most difficult to cook of all. Everyone can fry rice so to do the dish well requires a lot of kungfu. Each grain of rice must be separated from one another but not oily and each and every one of them must be covered with egg. The rice must be fried to an exact moment that a moment early, the rice will not be sweet and a moment too late, it will be smoky. This plate of fried rice fulfils my requirements! And more: the scallop is sweet and bouncy, the feeling--not taste--is very much like the moment of anticipation of closing in on a firm grape, waiting for its skin to break, its juice to spurt.

Although, as you can see, the plates are small, palm-sized (and each costing over $20!), the servings were compacted. Free flow of brewed herbal tea, my favorite, 夏枯草 (prunella) or winter melon tea. YUMMY.

The service was wonderful too. We were indecisive over ordering the dishes but the [China] waitress was patient. Full marks.

But the greatest part must be running in punkx80 . He always makes me smile.

Rating:

Quote of the Day: Flirt for a good cause!

2009-12-15T22:41:45Z

Me: Dress up on Thursday! 9 people are turning up for our book club! and 15 maybes.

Isaac: I don't believe it until I see them there.

Me: I know for sure a boy will turn up because he has a crush on me.

Isaac: Wow, you're really pulling all stops to increase attendance.

Me: It's flirting for a good cause.

Isaac: Nevertheless, I know you'll flirt with anyone.

Me: Including animals. That's why dogs love me.

The conversation reminded me of what happened in the day:

C: Those people are just making up an excuse to know a cute boy like you.

[I have to sneak the above quote in! No one has called me cute or a boy in a while.]

Later, in the clinic, we were talking about injections,

C: Where shall you like to be pricked, sir?

Me: The question is not where I'd like to be pricked. The question is where you'd like to prick me.

And then C got embarrassed and laughed and went to scrub his hands at the basin. It was kinda cute to see an older man blush. I wonder if I can find him on facebook.

Capricci, Sin Lee Restaurant, Prive, Greenhouse and Xmas Dinner

2009-12-15T20:59:40Z

1. We--morbidity80 and boyfriend, sister and girlfriend--were scouting restaurants for a good Christmas dinner and my sister recommended Capricci, two doors from Play. Luckily I dropped by with rainbowranger the other day and I decided against it. morbidity80 is a finicky eater and if I don't like the food, much less he. The decor and atmosphere are great, small and cozy, exuding an exclusive and exquisite feel, very romantic, but the food isn't very good although perhaps I should add that I was quite stuffed having had a late lunch and this was an early dinner. I think I can cook better pasta. The place promotes itself as fine dining--those very high class places, you know, big dish, little food--but it really isn't very expensive; especially after the 1-for-1 promotion, it's like the price of a Carls Jr burger. I think my sister is smitten by the charming and friendly Italian chef and his accent.

I ordered the octopus pasta which tasted fishy. I also ordered an Italian beer which tasted like water.

rainbowranger ordered gnocchi with cheese. This must have been the nth time I was corrected by a waiter on how to pronounce "gnocchi." The thing is when a waiter corrects me, I am always in a sociable environment so my mind switches off, doesn't want to learn. The pronunciation is either "knoc-kee" (as in knockey knock knock) or "knee-y'all-kee," depending on who you ask. It's Italian dumpling of potato or wheat. I have never liked it much maybe because I don't like potato unless it is deep-fried (fries and chips). I suppose it's an acquired taste like cous cous or durian.

2.In any case, unable to contact morbidity80 because he is on a holiday, we've reserved a table for three at privé. (We'll add seats if he still wants to join us.) Take a look at their Xmas menu. Scallop and foie gras! Yums.

3. Tomorrow, we may be going to a quaint Chinese restaurant, Sin Lee Restaurant, at Chinatown which, whenever I pass by, is very crowded with a long queue. Chinatown has many hidden treasures, I tell you, I especially like my Tan Kah Restaurant with the abalone mixed pot. Very cheap and good. The dish made and makes me wish my dad owns the restaurant or rather owns a chain of exotic seafood shops--like Eu Tong Sen--selling sea cucumbers and bird's nest. Not because of the money, because I can eat shark's fins everyday. I love animals, you know, if I weren't born in Singapore of having the limited educational options of working towards an occupation of medicine or law or engineering, I'd have been a zookeeper, marine biologist but sharks' fins is irresistible. Sorry.

4. We also want to go to a buffet. My sister suggested Greenhouse at Ritz but Isaac says "$70 can get you a hustler these days, is the buffet worth it?" Sex VS food, both primal instincts. Must choose? Can take both?

Quote of the Day: Hunger + food

2009-12-14T20:47:51Z

me: I'm always hungry when I see you.

D: What am I? A burger?

quote of the day: A child's indecision

2009-12-14T20:45:48Z

A child's indecision, so charged with promise, is one of the greatest charm of childhood. But these interwoven personalities become incompatible and, as each of us can live but one life, a choice must be made. We choose in reality without ceasing; without ceasing, also, we abandon many things.

- henri bergson, creative evolution.

Quote of the Day: Indian Dicks

2009-12-14T20:44:54Z

from jordanlawman83

"Indian women also run an outsize risk of unwanted pregnancy and sexually transmitted disease, including high rates of HIV/AIDS. One cause is that Indian men's condoms malfunction more than 15% of the time. Why such a high fail rate? According to the Indian Council of Medical Research, some 60 percent of Indian men have penises too small for the condoms manufactured to fit World Health Organization specs."
-Superfreakonomics

Quote of the Day: Overheard an Indian Tourist

2009-12-14T20:42:48Z

Overheard an Indian tourist say to masseuse, 'I heard chinatown has those "special" massages that's why i don't want to come but i come here today. Do you provide "extra" service? Coz I don't want it. I really don't want it. But do you know which shops provide? I ask because i want to avoid them."

What a wimp and what a loser, so many 'special' parlours in chinatown and he has to come to my massage place, a totally decent one.

Quote of the Day: Lady Gaga's MTV

2009-12-14T20:39:51Z

See Quote of the Day: Lady Gaga and Alfred Hitchcock

"Lady Gaga's new music video--you know the one that tells a story of ingenue-turned-whore/succubus, who doesn't like that kind of story!--begins with her emerging from a coffin like a vampire. And that coffin is metaphorically a suntanning bed! Then she takes a bath--a metaphoric baptism! She's so deep."

甜的时候都相信他

2009-12-14T19:32:43Z

A series of events makes me reminisce of my ex.

1. A lesbian friend changes her status to "Single" on facebook. Like me, she is a graduate student in USA involved in a long distance relationship. So both of us have failed and I email to commiserate.

2. I watched the Taiwan version of Don't Forget the Lyrics tonight and there were many selections of Jacky Cheung, the King of Mandarin ballads, equivalent to Frank Sinatra. My Ex is a karaoke champion and one of the few things I could boast of him was he sings Jacky Cheung's songs better than Jacky Cheung, he sings Zhang Hui-mei's songs better than Zhang Hui-mei. You can cry when he sings. It was me who coerced him to join a competition. The organizing bar did not have Jacky Cheung's 爱是永恒 (Eternal Love), an extremely moving song, and he wanted to pick another song. He always has bad taste in picking songs (and years after this first competition, when he joined another competition without informing me of his choice because I was in New York, he picked the wrong song and didn't even scrape through the semi-finals) and I vetoed his choice of not-Eternal-Love. Because he was busy, I searched and searched alone and walked under the hot sun till my feet blistered in my flipflops to look for the karaoke DVD. When he won--nobody expected him to because competition was stiff, gay people can sing--he resang the song and dedicated it to me. He didn't even practice for it.

The best description for my mood now is what Victorian writers use in their novels when the heroine is ill: tears on eyelashes. But this melancholy arises not out from residue devotion. I know very well I've let him go, go into another's affections because there is nothing I could have done. I've moved on; in fact, I have already met a person whom I think I can enter into a relationship with. On the other party's side, I don't think he is quite as enthusiastic but the possiblity of finding someone I can like already states very clearly I am ready to love except I'm more careful now. If I want to risk my heart, I want to make sure he is worthy. As Coco Lee sings, 我不是每次失恋后都能从新再来.

So please don't romanticize me; I'm not the sentimental type. What overcomes me today, now is a sense of regret, loss and pity. Such a pity, we were together for 7 years and they were all good. Sex life was extremely healthy and we never ran out of things to talk about. That's because I'm witty and pretty and gay. Once I wrote an email declaring my love for Ex to my family, including my ultraconservative, superhomophobic and pharisaical mother. I think I wrote, unlike my parents, we were still very much in love and would be together for a long, long time. I wrote I don't understand couples who stay together out of obligation when they no longer love each other. But all that has turned to dust. All those promises too. And love songs, sweet-nothings.

Whenever I get in this mood, I always remember what Isaac--the kind and wise and good Isaac--has said to me: "If you are over him, then he should mean nothing to you" and then I don't feel so bad. That's why I can talk so openly about him; only people who are not over their exes cannot talk about them. By not talking about your ex, it is as if you're keeping his perfumed shirt in the closet, afraid that the memory of the scent should one day fade; people like that are sentimental or, if I'm in a bad mood, I'd call them namby-pamby. I'm not that sort. But what I dislike is people harping about how useless Ex is or how he cannot manage his finance well because even though we broke up, I still think he's a nice person--there is no need for me to hate him to get over him, I'm not that sort--and I really don't care about his fiscal ability now that I've washed my hands off him, so why bother me? I am not interested in his life anymore but you may call me a gentleman, I don't gossip.

3. The third thing that reminds me of him today is I watched Fringe. A scientist, in order to save his wife, sacrifices himself, dies. This is the kind of love that parents should have taught their child but I learn it from my Ex and it is a lesson I've learnt well. He always said that if he struck lottery, he would give me half of it. (I used to think there are some friends I would divide my winnings with but these days, the only person I am willing to part with any windfall with is my sister.) In any case, the student has surpassed the teacher, so now the next person I love, I must know I'm willing to give him my liver. I can be Pierre Png too.

Claypot Rice, you're not very photogenic, especially beside abalone skinny noodles

2009-12-11T15:01:50Z

I dislike claypot rice. Kenneth LOVES claypot rice (and steamboat [hotpot]) so I've eaten the top three claypot rice in Singapore: Chinatown, ABC market and Alexander market. I only like the one at ABC market but since there is a new stall at my 24-hour food court, I thought I would give it a try.

Verdict of chicken mushroom claypot rice: YUMMY, better than all the rest. The rice is soft, the chicken (fat) is tender and the lap-cheong (Chinese sausage) and salted fish give the dish a sweet and salty savory but not overwhelming flavor.

In other words, my neighborhood, after YEARS of promise made by the government, is gentrifying. Just the other day, I spotted and counted at least nine fags at my local Starbucks. NINE!--that's like an orgy already--including dirrtysean , 2 Pinoys (yums), three soldiers, and a Taiwanese. I eavesdropped on what the young Taiwanese said to his Singaporean counterpart: "I don't understand circuit boys. I think living together, coming home to an apartment you own with your partner is another kind of joy." The jaded Singaporean talked about the impossibility of monogamy and the Taiwanese insisted on his point of view. Sigh, Singaporean men suck, both gay and straight. I can now empathize with the many Singaporean women who marry white men. Why can't more Singaporeans be like Taiwanese? I think I shall move to Taiwan.

I translated his words into "another kind of joy" when he said 起伏 (qi fu). I don't exactly know the meaning of 起伏, the Taiwanese was using a lot of big words, but I suppose 起伏 means ups and downs, the vagaries of life although the phrase doesn't quite fit into his sentence. I need to brush up on my Mandarin.

On dirrtysean , I don't exactly know him--he's a friend's good friend--but I keep running into him--this is the third time--and I thought I should go up and introduce myself. (I've changed, I'm very sociable now.) But he was with two colleagues and I thought he might not want to out himself.

I also went to 家乡面 (Jia-xiang noodles) to eat. Chant with me: 家乡家乡家乡！面面面！家乡家乡家乡！面面面！家乡！面！家乡！面！ooooh 家乡面！Love the low-budget ad.

金牌面 (gold medal noodles) includes everything you can find in a noodle dish, char-siew (bbq pork), fried dumplings, soup dumplings, prawns and ABALONE. The abalone tasted like cardboard - but what did I expect? It was only $9.50. At least the slices were thick, thick cardboard. I requested NO LARD - but again, what was I thinking of? It's like drinking frappucinno without whipped cream, eating oreos without milk, or shitting without peeing. So it wasn't very good for me.

Why there is no such thing as good intention

2009-12-09T18:41:55Z

Our enthusiasm, as soon as it is externalized into action, is so naturally congealed into the cold calculation of interest or vanity, the one takes so easily the shape of the other, that we might confuse them together, doubt our own sincerity, deny goodness and love, if we did not know that the dead retain for a time the features of the living.

Henri Bergson's Creative Evolution.

Stones from Santorini

2009-12-08T11:52:30Z

I know Nature Boy for a few years now and when I was at Santorini, Greece in May 2008, a year and a half ago, I thought of him and picked two stones from the active volcano for him. The stones are unique in the world because firstly, the active volcano helps scientists learn about land formation and secondly, the mineral composition of the stones cannot be found anywhere else in the world--if you do a chemical test on the stones, you'll know immediately that they are from Santorini--and lastly, legend has it that the active volcano erupted and sank the mythic, utopian city of Atlantis where either side of the mouth of the river leading to the city was guarded by the Pillars of Hercules like, I'd imagine, the movie Lord of the Rings when the fellowship flows down the river.

The stones flew with me from Santorini to mainland Greece, Athens, back to New York and from New York, transiting at Frankfurt, to Singapore. I kept the stones with my notes, my literature notes.

Today, I wanted to exhume the stones, dig them up to finally give them to him. Such a long journey they have been. But I cannot find them, I cannot find them. I remember just seeing them the other day as I was looking through my notes. My parents, who like to meddle with my room despite my countless telling them not to, have a knack of destroying the most important things in my life, even indestructible things as stones. So I'm left with words to praise and exalt them, words as eternal as stones.

This is Santorini:

And across Santorini is the volcano where I plucked the stones from: