You know lah...

There are many ways to leave a room... and after all the jet-a-way-and-back-again over the years, the riverman~~~ has mastered the art.


For example... there's the "Straight out through the main doors, spill onto the red carpet and smack into the screaming flashbulbs". Alternatively, there's always the "Sneaky detour through the kitchen, squeeze by the waiters and out through the delivery doors down the side street where the smokers congregate". For today however, I feel like a good old dependable "Go round the room and say goodbye before the taxi arrives".

This last month, I have sort of felt like a guest who has stayed too late at a party. You know, the type where half the guests have left, the music is on re-repeat, the confetti is on the floor and the wine's gone warm in the glass? Yes, I have been itching to leave for quite a while, and for many a recent day I have felt that the call to leave hasn't come quick enough.

Don't get me wrong though - it hasn't been unbearable by any means. I have YOU to thank for making these days absolutely wonderful! Thank you for the beer in the afternoon under palm trees and for the char kwey teow under that sole unlit umbrella in Tiong Bahru Market. Thank you for the guitar session with maggie mee on the side at 2 am. Thank you for scolding me for smoking and then allowing me to dip into your ciggarettes. Thank you for that gin and tonic up at Balcony Bar. Thank you for Bak Chor mee and the introduction to your new girlfriend. Thank you for putting up with my barrage of election update texts. Thank you making me realise that Chi-wa-was can be very sweet. Thank you for teaching me how to fly my kite out in that empty field near Kampong Java. Thank you for allowing me to empty your refrigerator of coke light and tiger beer. Thank you for playing me opera in your car. Thank you for wine at Dempsey. Thank you for telling me off, encouraging me on and driving me up the wall and teasing me to death. Coming home would not have been the same without YOU.

My bag is a little heavier than usual this time - a testament to the elastic nature of the "bare necessities". It is remarkable how quickly a suitcase fills out in the last 24 hours before you leave home. Almost as quick as the urge to get nostalgic as soon as you zip that suitcase close and look around your room. Almost as quick as the taxi takes to get to your door after you call. Almost as quick as the frantic "Goodbye" texts in a street-lamp-lit back seat. Almost as quick as the trip down the ECP and almost as quick as you see the airport control tower straight ahead...

Too quick!

So before I lug-out onto a trolley and up the terminal gates... it is simple, pretty unoriginal and you probably know it already, but you know lah...it still needs to be said:

Take care and please do call, write and visit if you can. I am so going to miss YOU!

~~~

PS: The embeds are of a Berlin based band called "Virginia Jetzt". Something I discovered over these last two months while watching too much YouTube.

Jam

I think that my little garden hedgehog has woken up.

Yesterday I walked into my slough-sogged garden and the little scrap of tree bark that had sheltered him from the sleet and snow these many months had been tossed onto the damp dandelion patch. I suppose he got too hungry to wait for the BBC weatherman to officially announce the end of winter.

Taking my prickly friend's cue, my neighbours started demolishing the mossy frost-bitten fence fringing their lawn yesterday, and I swear there was a faint whir of a lawn mower in the air today. Soon patio furniture will be dusted out and washing lines spun out against the sky.

A garden comes to life round about this time in the year. She spends the winter huddled under thick and dreamy duvets, and one miraculous day, She gives a big shuddering yawn, stretches her branches, tosses off her blankets and opens her eyes... and after a little look around, she heaves to her feet and picks up a broom.

I think that I will do the same too! There is much to clean out over the last year. There's that crate of last year's wine-turning-to-vinegar under the kitchen sink and a ton of over-ripened-fruit-jam-jarred in the larder to clear away.

So come on Reader! We will start with the Jam, and maybe leave the wine for next week...

There's some pretty good stuff here in these jars... sweet, tart, tangy and wild. Quite a while and a couple of burnt fingers ago, I ladled multi-coloured-mini-orchards into these pots and now they are a sturdy little demonstration on well-preserved-perseverance (yeah, Corny I know... but I can't resist).




Here's a great recipe for home-made jam courtesy of the riverman~~~. It definitely goes a long-way to sweetening bitterly depressing winter-to-spring days. For those of you who don't know what the hell this recipe is about, please accept my apologies. The riverman~~~ sometimes writes in code just to infuriate you! For the code-breakers (i.e. namely the attendees of last week's welcome feast-fest for Tania at my place)... enjoy!

_______________________________

Ingredients:



(1) Friends (as many as you can get together on a cold and miserable day) Preferably pick the ones that sprout in the wild and are consequentially more sturdily sincere. For a taste of the exotic obtain the ones that grow overseas in sunny tropical climes (they actually taste sweeter!). If you are into the "organic" thing, try to obtain the ones that grow near farmyards (Trish, you know what I mean!). For the best combination for this jam, get a mixture of local, exotic and organic varieties.
(2) Chicken Wings (the sort that only Sarah Lee can make. You know, the sort that you can't stop eating once you start... Yes, the dangerous sort!)
(3) Lurid Green Deck Chairs. (The "Luridder" the better!)
(4) 7 to 8 pots of Earl Grey Tea (Earl Grey, being the only type of tea in my cupboard other than Chamomile)
(5) 1 Bottle of Bubbly (simply for a taste of luxury or for those who can't do without alchoholic infusions)
(6) 2 boxes of Char Siew for taste (and a wave of home-sickness)
(7) 1 tray of Egg-Tarts from Soho bakery ( Try not to eat all of these yourself before you start cooking.)
(8) Kueh Lapis (Guest Starring from Begawan Solo, Singapore)
(9) Crispy Cremes (as a substitute for ssssh-shugggg-a-a-arrr!!)
(10) A cold and rainy March afternoon...



Equally important and vital ingredients:



(11) A mighty splash of Tania's Laughter
(12) A robust dash of Leslie's Pepper-Wit
(13) A blinding flash of Sarah's Culinary Genius
(14) A taste of Animal Husbandry from Trish
(15) A little bit of Japanese Art from Asako
(16) A sliver of Naughtiness from Ling and
(17) A wee bit of "Bob the Builder" from Daniel
(18) One hour's worth of "Shrek"
(19) One DVD player Remote Control
(20) One feature length Cheesy Movie (the cheesier the better, and preferably one involving falling-stars, witches who ride goat-drawn-chariots and Robert De-Niro in a pink-lace-dress).





Instructions:

Sprinkle Friends liberally over Lurid Green Deck Chairs in living room. Toss in Crispy Cremes and Chicken Wings intermittently while maintaining a constant stream of Earl Grey Tea.

Proffer Bubbly to Friends and proceed to drink most of it yourself. Sing Bob-the-Builder as Daniel attempts acrobatics over the Lurid Green Deck Chairs.

Stir in Char Siew and bring the whole mixture to stew over the latest gossip.

Distract John by offering him the DVD Player Remote-Control, and ensure that Daniel survives the evening by playing Shrek.

Slice and dice Trish's Animal Husbandry and mix with Leslie's Pepper Wit until combustible. Slowly add to the mixture until bubbles of Tania's Laughter surface. Then under Sarah's Culinary Genius, whisk in the Kueh Lapis followed quickly by the Egg Tarts. Allow entire mixture to simmer but not boil over.

Throw in Ling's Naughtiness to taste and finally garnish with Asako's Japanese Art on the side. Place mixture in front of the Cheesy Movie and allow jam to set.

Once cool, ladle into jam pots for another day, or if you can't wait - dig in!

Take it from me Reader...

It's totally Yummm!!!

And for the wonderful people who made last weekend such a mad and crazy affair! Thank You!

~~~

Here goes...

This post marks the end of a little era.

It has been a manic six months... and a lot of it has been agonizing work and terrible hours. Yes, I have ranted and raved about the underpaid and tepid state of my "winter of discontent" in SJ Burnout, but now as I prepare to vacate my office I remember these moments and smile...

Lunches at Stanleys, cigarettes by the riverside in the afternoon and evening, beers at O'Neils before heading back to my desk, conversations at the Banker, fish and chips on Friday, coffee and hot chocolate downstairs by the lift lobby, walks across Southwark Bridge, strawberries on the patch of green under the trees along Upper Thames Street, Pret a Manger sandwiches, soup and bread in the evenings, San Miguel beer bottles beside the break-out area, pirates summer partying on a boat, gin & tonics at The Golden Fleece, gargantuan guacamole wraps, lunch invite e-mails, Sunny rooftops, very violent table tennis, very very violent table football, Binny on the dance floor, Gracey on the Karaoke mics, Terence on the carpet, Aileen with Vietnamese rice rolls, Chongster and his "hey Mate...M-M-M-MMate!!", Matt with a football on the grass, Arun and his "thyroid problem"...

... and I am grateful for them. But for these foolish things - SJ Burnout may have washed me out as well... Thank you, you wonderful people for making these days bearable, and I will miss you!

You definitely changed my world!

Arrru-u-u-u-u-nn!!!

Let me sing you the RGS song...

Gotta end the PAIN!

Taxi rides are for hugs!

Strike a pose! (Not very) VOGUE!!

CHONGSTER M..m..m..mMate...

Charlies Angels with Charlie's favourite angel in the middle...

Actually I had no idea who those two pouters were...

... but if you can't hold your Sake - join them lah!

One more for Charlie!

A very tired angel...

Three little maids from school ...

... and then, there were two...

... and two more...

And so all good things come to an end!

Ta Ta!
~~~

And even though everything must change...

When I was 19 years old I sat cross legged on the tiled floor of my dorm room at University, and listened enraptured to Oleta Adams sing:

Everything must change
nothing stays the same
everyone must change
no one stays the same
the young become the old
and mysteries do unfold
cause that's the way of time
nothing and no one goes unchanged
there are not many things in life
you can be sure of
except rain comes from the clouds
sun lights up the sky
and hummingbirds do fly


And as Oleta's warm voice filled my room then, I soaked in a very adolescent melancholy (a product of too much heavy reading, too many depressing songs and altogether not enough living), and the young philosopher that I fancied I was nodded sagely to myself, truly believing I understood the depth of the words I heard.


Sixteen years later I hold my head in my hands to shut off the consistent and insistent Tick-Tick-Tock of Time, and fondly long for the "do-you-remember-reunions" and wonder the "what-could-have-beens " and "whatever-happened-tos"... while all around me I realise... Everything HAS Changed.


My mother prepares for retirement, starts talking to her cats and cooking World-Aid amounts of vegetarian food... My father stops dyeing his hair black, hangs up his badminton racquet and starts regular visits to the hospital. My sister marries and buys a house... and I...


... yes, I have changed too.


But just like the rain that comes from the clouds, the sun that lights up the sky and those hummingbirds that fly, here are the things I find have not changed, and the things that keep me coming Home:


(1) Sitting at the Balcony Bar on Orchard Road in the afternoon with a gin & tonic and watching the world go by
(2) The taste of Loy Kee chicken rice
(3) The silly music Citicab/Comfort plays over and over on the telephone as you wait for your taxi booking to be confirmed.
(4) The fact that my mum's chicken curry is still the best in the world!
(5) The crisp taste of an ice cold Tiger Beer at the Singapore Cricket Club/Quickie Club
(6) The quiet calm I feel when I sit outside Blk 69 and have a puff
(7) The slurp and bite in the Bak Chor Mee sold near Ian's house
(8) The horrible TV programmes shown on Channel 5 (can they get worse?!)
(9) The uncle who sells me Diet Coke downstairs and gives me a free packet of Marmee everytime
(10) The chatty taxi drivers getting hysterical over the "gah-men" on late night trips home
(11) The durian tree outside my flat - yes there really IS one!
(12) The smell of Old Spice in my father's bedroom.
(13) The chatter and gossip I can share with Ian over a bottle of wine at Wine Connection
(14) Sian Yan's little voice (I still can't hear it!)
(15) Leslie's sharp tongue (it never sliced things so fine!)
(16) Tania's laugh (it's just as loud as ever)
(17) Mehry and her crazy shopping (and she is still our little lamb)
(18) Sotong's legs (they could still qualify for that beauty contest we measured them for)
(19) Greggy's self-deprecation (and his eternally frustrating question "So how ARE you?")
(20) Duan and the things we talk about (and the number of cigarettes I end up smoking with her everytime we do)

These wonderful things have stayed the same so far. Then, there is that feeling I have whenever I see the Singapore skyline on the way home from the airport, and it's a wonderful "Welcome Home" time after time...

In a little while, I will switch off my computer at Blk 69, haul my suitcase down to Changi Airport and prepare myself for that 13 hour flight back to London. My mind is the inevitable muddle of tickets, passports and baggage check-in procedure. Still, somewhere in my head there is this twinge of fear. Yes - fear ... maybe because I am very aware that while I am away, some of the things I listed above in this post may change or end, and that when I come back Home next I may never find them again and they would be lost to me forever.

And yet I know that Change will come in its own time, and while it may take away some of the things I love, it will also bring new things my way. And I know that although I may feel the sense of loss when I lose things (as I very well may), the challenge will be to refrain from clutching and holding on tightly to the things that remain, simply because the harder I grasp and hold on, the more I may crush and destroy what I have, and the less likely I will be able to receive new treasures that come my way.
But for today, I have my list, and "(They) can't take that away from me" (as the song goes), for it records my memory of things are they are at present... and this little bit of sentimentality should be sufficient for now.


We will, each of us, take Tomorrow as it comes - Changes and all!

~~~

"I took my love. I took it down. Climbed a mountain and I turned around. I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills, till the landslide brought me down.

Oh, mirror in the sky: What is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? Oh... I don't know.

Well, I've been afraid of changing cause Ive built my life around you. But time makes you bolder. Even children get older. I'm getting older too.

Oh, take my love, take it down. Climb a mountain and turn around. If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills, well the landslide will bring it down.

If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills, well maybe the landslide will bring it down.

Stevie Nicks 1971

The things we do...

There have been some wonderful songs written about friends... some diabetically sweet and some simply pure cheesy... and over the years when we hear these played on the radio we vacillate between the choke in the throat and the cringe down the spine. This week I have embedded three that I find the most enduring here on this blog - anthemic and overpowering and yet simple and true.


The best and most precious thing you can receive from anyone is their time, (simply because it is in such short supply!) and my friends give me so much of that... From the quiet discussion in a parked car in the late evening ... to the painstaking shuffling through songs to download into an iPod ... to determined shopping missions for LCD televisions that make me forget about lunch ... to the raucous hilarity of late night theatrics that leave me going home laughing with an ache in my abdomen no gym session ever achieved.

And before I sign off for this week, this is my present to you wonderful people who made me smile last night: a little bit of nostalgia from the days we spent in the hall in university. I present the latest KRX production staged and shot in true technicolour splendour on the parquet floors we know and love so well at East Coast Avenue...

Good Lord! The things we do...

Wee-Drama-Seah productions presents...

A PEE-IN-YOUR-PANTS PRODUCTION BY
KRX (alumni)

THE TRAGEDY OF BABY PLASTIC BAG

(a true story - so donch la-a-fff wan!)

One evening at Tania's house after eating a lot of ayam-buah-keluak and chillied "oh-burrr-jeans" Greggy realised that he was pregnant.

This remarkable state of affairs made Greggy smile contentedly - as you can see here.

At long last after a most uneventful pregnancy, Baby Plastic Bag was born amidst much pain and exhaustion (on the part of Baby Plastic Bag of course).

Greggy simply seemed to be having a "great time" throughout the ordeal...

When Baby Plastic Bag was placed in his arms, Greggy felt an immense sense of joy and pride. Who would have thought that Ayam Buah Keluak would result in such miracles?!

Here is a shot of Baby Plastic Bag at his Christening. Greggy looks the picture of maternal bliss... Nobody dared tell Greggy that it was a plastic bag he was holding...

...but this happy situation was not to last for long...

Tania had been sitting quietly for an hour, and finally couldn't resist pointing out the obvious:

"Ha Ha Ha! Greggy gave birth

to plastic bag one... some more from NTUC in Hougang!"

Greggy couldn't believe his ears!!! A NTUC BAG??? And from HOUGANG!???

A pounding rage filled his head.

It was then that every

one at the Christening started voicing their concerns:

(1) Why was Baby Plastic Bag so low class one... from NTUC, and not Cold Storage or The Marketplace???

(2) How could anyone want to give birth to something from Hougang!?

(3) Did this mean that Greggy would have to start living (shudder!!!) at Hougang and shopping (God forbid!!!) at NTUC???

N-NN-NO-O-O-O-o-o-o-o!!!

In a fit of what can only be described as madness, Greggy strangled little Baby Plastic Bag while the rest of the guests at the Christening watched with a mixture of horror and humour.

Baby Plastic Bag crumpled under Greggy's hands, and after a good deal of mangle-ment finally lay still.

Very very still.

Greggy stood and looked at Baby Plastic Bag's little pale and wrinkled body. The rest of the crowd suddenly went quiet, realisation washing over them... They had witnessed the cold blooded murder of a little Hougang NTUC plastic bag...

Greggy was stunned. Baby Plastic Bag was dead.

Yes... D-E-D ... Dead

And he had committed murder in front of so many witnesses!

What a stupid thing to do! He may as well go and live in Hougang!

This thought was enough to make him instantaneously develop a large ulcer in his stomach and fall dead...

Yes... D-E-D - Dead!

The crowd at the Christening looked at Greggy's and Baby Plastic Bag's bodies and shook their heads. How predictably outrageous for a Wee-Drama-Seah Production...

Quietly, the crowd laid out Greggy and Baby Plastic Bag on a funeral pyre made out of Tania's broken bedroom furniture, and adorned with offerings of soft multicoloured jelly; pineapple tarts; an empty box of Chivas Regal; three sizable oranges that looked a little mouldy and an almost empty packet of Virginia Slims.

As flames engulfed the body, and the room filled with smoke, Sian Yan couldn't help but mention (in her little voice) that under the crackle of the wood, she heard a faint rustle from Baby Plastic Bag...

THE END FOR NOW...

...to be continued...

Producer

Wee-Drama-Seah

Scriptwriter

Leslie Sharp Tongue

Cinematographer/Production Designer

Wee all!

Unit Production Manager

Sotong Seah

First/Second/Third Assistant Camera

Wee/Drama/Seah

Gaffer / "Laugh-er"

The one with the hair!

Dolly Grip

"Got Dolly meh???"

This motion picture was in no way authorized, sponsored or endorsed by NTUC, Cold Storage, The Marketplace, nor was any portion of the motion picture filmed inside a Primary School, Airport, Catholic Church or a moving vehicle (just in case you wanted to know). The events, characters and other entities (including the plastic bag) depicted in this motion picture are fictitious (even though we said earlier that this was a true story - actually we lied lah... so next time donch believe us), and any similarity to actual persons, events or other entities other than Greggy and the plastic bag are purely coincidental.

No plastic bags or people from Hougang were harmed while filming.

in memory of

KWANG/MONSTER/

ANIMAL/UFO

(Always remembered... Forever uncontactable!)

~~~

You, Me and that beer at East Coast...

It's 5.30 on a Sunday morning, and I am fresh off the plane and my skin is sticky with home. I unpacked my suitcase in two minutes flat, but I know I will need more time to do the same with these thoughts of You, Me and that beer by the beach at East Coast tonight.

Four months or so ago, I started this blog with a throat-choked-thank-you to everyone I was leaving behind. Tonight I look through the posts on this journal and recognise a concatenation of events... an unconsciously created circularity. Four months ago, the riverman~~~ sailed away - a contradiction of feelings, and very much uncertain if what she was doing was what she wanted to do. Tonight I try to untangle those same thoughts... those "should-I-and-should-I-knots" that I procrastinatingly-pocketed over the last ten weeks while I threw myself into the throng and traffic of new faces and places.

And now as I sit huddled in a blanket of jet-lag in my old bedroom, I know I finally can think. And because "to everything there is a season... a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away..." I know that as surely as there is a time for me to ask questions, there will be a time when those questions will be answered.

And what about You and Me?

Sitting down with You by the beach with cans of beer can throw everything into perspective and remind me of things unsaid and undone... and of priorities, principles and ideals. Isn't it wonderful that after all these years and after all the changes in hairstyles and spectacle frame sizes, we remain the same underneath it all?!

You asked me early this morning if I felt it was surreal being home again. I shrugged my shoulders and grinned and told You that it was not. But if there is any strangeness at all, it is this: that under all the brash change I feel around me and I know you have gone through in my absence, I still recognise You when I come home.

And those foolish and special things we talked and laughed about tonight, simply make me realise what I am now...

...and that whenever I come home to You, I also come home to Me.

Thank You for bringing Me home!

~~~