Friends and Canele

I love Tuesday night. Not in general, but the last one was really good. I love nothing more than spending time in the company of people who know me and love me despite myself, and in the midst of more delicious dessert than even I can possible eat.

Look at that. What can you say in the presence of such sumptuousness? And this is one I didn't eat.




R and KH are friends from before. And if you have to ask before when, clearly you weren't there. Heh heh.

As we sat and talked and tried to ignore the sound of the funky fountain, which made some of us need to pee more than once, it struck me - wow, these are people I can be quiet and spaced out with, and they won't think I am a total ditz. Oh they might, but it would be ok.

We shared so much that night - memories of the past, hopes for our futures, we talked of the meaningful and the mundane, "of shoes, ships and sealing wax and of cabbages and kings" as Lewis Carroll wrote.

Though we didn't solve world hunger or even each other's problems, I think we all felt a little bit richer for having the others in our lives. I know I did.

This is what church is, I thought. A group of people who share life, feed hopes and dreams and are God-with-skin, as Sy Rogers says, to each other.

I am so glad I have this.

Do you even know me?

The more time passes, the more people grow
And things you once knew, or thought you knew
can pass away.

So to take the flaws of my youth,
and cast them up to me with ridicule
is chldish to say the least
and cruel to say the most.

For once I saw with childish eyes,
and was impressed by star quality.
But have since realised that what is outwardly real
doesn't run deep, no, not really.

If not, in the naivete of my young exuberance,
why would I have chosen you?

But I guess I ought to thank you
for this cynical streak,
that makes me question the outward celebrity
and care more about the spirit within.

More than the strife is the pain
of the crushing loneliness
of existing with someone who does not
know you, and hence know how you've grown.


"If" is a tragic word.

Last pic post from Hillsong 08

Elgin and me at Bondi, pretending to have a deep meaningful conversation, but probably just talking about how purple socks go well with orange sneakers. He is me in a man's body. Or I want to be him in a woman's body. Or something. I love you, 'Gin. I know you get what I am saying here.



Suni and me in front of the Acer Arena, where all the good stuff happened at Hillsong. Gosh, I miss the place, and the time. Suni is a bit mad. Another new friend.




Eating at some random Chinese restaurant, of which there are millions in Sydney. I dunno what Australians ate before Asians got there. I walked the entire length of George St looking for something non-Asian to eat, and besides fast food, there was NOTHING.

Yes, I do look a bit psychotic in this photo, but that's because I was set up. We were ALL supposed to look psychotic. I think psychotic is my word of the month. I use it at least once a day.



As a fitting finale to this post, this is me at the Mediterranean Sea overlooking one of the Greek islands. At least, I want to think it is. Isn't it gorgeous?

More pics from Hillsong

I am gonna run out of titles before I post all the pics, I am sure!

But here we go.



This was at Bondi Beach. The guy on the left who looks ostracised is my pastor. Heh heh


The Girls of FGA. And yes, Angie is realy that tall.



Rhordan and Chilu. We were standing outside a gate not alocated to us, hoping there will be room for us. Chilu was the volunteer managing the crowd in that section. "He said "I will only let you in if you are from Singapore." At which we all chorused,"We are ALL from Singapore." He was just a quirky, colourful character, we couldn't help but like him.




Getting our coffees and muffins before the morning session. Have I mentioned how yummy the lattes in Australia are? I miss them. This is most of the people from church.





And this is me, on a ferry with the Sydney skyline behind me. I like the fact that I look "windswept and interesting". Anyone can tell me who that quote is from?

Sydney!

So, in case you, dear reader, start thinking that my so called trip to Sydney was just a well-imagined day dream, here are some photos to make it all real!

Apologies to all the peeps I stole photos from. I was too overwhelmed to take my own.


The peeps

Hot Dog!! At the Roma Coffee Festival. Australian Cafe Latte is probably one of the best in the world.


In case you have never seen this building before, this is the Sydney Opera House. Now say ooooh, ahhhh! Good.

Beam me up Scotty!

Duh, really!

Hillsong 08

What a trip! What a rush! What a simply exhilirating experience! Hillsong 08 was the conference of wonder, amazement and awe, and it was all centred upon the person of Jesus.

How do I sum up the experience?
20,000 screaming Jesus fans. One major Acer Arena. 5 amazing bands and musicians. 8 phenonmenal speakers. And change - the meaning of change, the need for change and the empowerment to change.

It was also rather exhausting. A typical day saw us awaking at 6.00am and leaving the YHA at 7.00am to make it to the Acer Arena by 8.15am. Then it was conference till about 1.30 with the morning sessions. The electives happened from 2 -3pm and the first night rally at 4.30pm. Then it was the amazing 7.30 rally which I think had the best music, best speakers and was seriously anointed. Not to mention all the amazing testimonies.

I am still in the midst of uploading all the photos and vids to facebook and youtube respectively (a task NOT aided by the fact that my company blocks both), but I can't wait to share all the stuff here.

Meanwhile, I am on fire with all the things I want to fix, with God's help!

The Day Before

I leave for Sydney tomorrow and I can't wait! This will be the herald of many firsts.

1) First time at Hillsong Conference. Yaaay!

2) First time in Sydney. Yeah, I know, how did I get an Australian education without going to one of its major cities, right? I didn't know anyone there at the time, and Sydney was so crass and commercialised then. (Still is, but when you are an arts student, it's not cool to do crass and commercialised.)

3) First holiday in a year. Since I started work at this new place, I have not had time to take leave, especially with the revolving door of staff turnover lately. So this will be well-deserved and high time.

4) First time I will be spending more than 24 hours with this bunch of people. I like them well enough under normal circumstances, but I really I don't travel well with people generally, despite how much I like them otherwise. Especially if they are late for rendezvous, can't decide on anything and only want to shop all the time. This will be a good test.

Tonight I wil agonise over what to pack, and indubitably bring too many clothes, not enough underwear and "essentials" that will be totally unnecessary. I also get to wear my new "bling" shoes, which I am really looking forward to. Nice?

Change

It sometimes takes the sound and lucid counsel of a friend to see what's before your very eyes. Not that your eyes were closed, but like in a scary movie, your hands are held in from of them, allowing you to see only some parts of the horror unfolding on screen.

How is it that we resist change and encourage statis in our culture, when in nature, change is the only constant? It's hard for us to acknowledge change, much less embrace it.

Hence, seeing change is courage and accepting it, sheer herosim. Being creatures in motion, we tend to stay in motion, not just at a cellular level, but also our dreams, aspirations and motivations. Tossed about with other similar yet vastly different concatenation of cells, how do you ignore the Brownian theory?

God of course underlines and demonstrates this in His promise to move as a Spirit. Not a rock, not a statue, not a place, but Spirit, always moving, changing, adjusting to our changes to bring about the best results.

Trust the Spirit. Embrace change without fear.

Dancing in the moonlight aka Birthday Post II

It was the perfect ending to a beautiful day. I couldn't have asked for better. A picked me up at 7.30 from Far East Plaza, where I had hurriedly changed out of my birthday clothes (as opposed to a birthday suit) and into comfortable jeans and T shirt.

A. was slightly tardy, but it was fun people watching at Far East. It's like entering a different paradigm, where everyone has an extra W chromosome.

Anyway, she drove us to East Coast Park, near the old Big Splash (what is that place called now anyway?)There, as the gentle breeze blew through my carefully brushed hair, creating what looked like an Amy Winehouse bird's nest, I saw M, R and J in the distance, engaged in what looked like successful "chope-ing" of a stone table.

At A's insistance, we spread some mats on the sand and sat down. The guys tried their darnest to light candles and finally managed to light one. Which is a good thing, because it was kinda dark.

G joined us just as we opened the food - talk about good timing. We laughed and talked more than we ate, but that's good.

There was a stange little outdoor pub nearby that had a guitar and singer duo who started off well, but got progressively worse at the night wore on. But they added so much fun to the night, as we sang along, almost as badly as they did.

My chocolate fudge cake was perfect, especially with the one candle that the boys managed to light, and hold lit by cupping 4 pairs of hands around it, so that I had the fun of blowing out. I have the best friends. Have I mentioned that already?

Here are ten things that I find out I mean to my dearest and nearest. Thank you A, for making them do the "Nalinee Appreciation" speeches.
1) Witty
2) Intelligent
3) Funny
4) Aggressive
5) Task Oriented
6) Purveyor of useless facts and info
7) Drama Mama
8) Dependable
9) Trustworthy
10) Loved

With that much affirmation, how can anyone ask for a better birthday eh?

18 million

That's how many minutes I have already been blessed to receive so far and I hope there will be another 18 million to look forward to. At least.

It a very good thing, a birthday. It makes you take stock of things in a different light. And people are nice to you. Very nice.

I started mine with breakfast with T. It was her wedding anniversary (26 years!!!) and her husband is away, so we decided to celebrate both occasions with a decadent breakfast at Delifrance. Yum yum. Never underestimate the happiness butter and croissants can brng you.

Then I got on a slow boat to Little India to meet my dad for lunch. It is the first time in a long while that I saw my dad on my birthday, but it felt right. He is one of my biggest cheerleaders and a huge celebrant of my life, so it was fitting that he was there.

We shared a plate of "kothu parata", which I didn't really like, and regaled me with tales of his work and life, which I loved. The thing about my dad is, he can take the most mundane, boring, everyday event, and dramatise it to the point where you are on the edge of your seat and biting your fingernails frantically, waiting to see how it all ends. I wish I had that gift.

After dad went back to work, I wended my way to Shaw Centre (House? I can never remember), hoping to see a movie I missed. Turns out both Prince Caspian and Sex and the City were showing. I finally decided on Prince Caspian, because I was in a deep, reflective kinda mood as opposed to frivolity. (don't get me wrong, I love frivolity in the right mood.)

Prince Caspian was a good movie in many ways, but maybe i am dumbing down or something, but I didn't really get all that theology that some people I know were raving about. It was a good story about a king taking his rightful place with a little help from his friends. Hmm, I wonder which other epic fantasy story adapted into a screenplay had this storyline.

But the cream and chocolate shavings topping on the perfect day was yet to come.......

American Gangster - Movie Review

My colleague bought me a DVD of "American Gangster" for my birthday, which makes me really quite delighted. I guess with all the moaning I did about missing it when it was in the cinemas, he got the hint.

Anyway, I made good use of my evening yesterday and watched it. And it was worth all 175 minutes (this was the uncut edition and well deserving of its M18 rating).

Denzel is the comsummate gangster, with his look of barely controlled rage and "I am so pissed off you are even alive" look. Of course that man is so yummy, I could just eat him with a spoon, but he is also an amazing actor. I studied it carefully and I realised what it is - it's the way he walks. Denzel's walk, part swagger, part strut and all testosterone, is what makes him so perfect for this role. It is confidence, laced with gangsta. How to lose?

Ok, before this turns into a Denzel droolfest, let's get into the movie, shall we?
American gangster is a true story about Frank Lucas, the first black man to monopolise and dominate the drug scene in America. On his trail is Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe, a reluctant loser cop whose unpopularity to the rest of the NJPD has him heading a narcotics task force which operates outside the system to get all the baddies.

Ok, sypnopsis aside, this movie has many other themes which you will remember from other gangster movies - family, loyalty, love and of course chicks and cold blooded killings.

But what really got me about this movie was the motivation behind Lucas' actions.
Having come from a violent childhood, the oldest of 6 children, being poor, being a urban refugee, he embodies the American Dream. Finding capitalism a better option to patriotism, he milks the system, collects on his favours and doesn't take crap.

In any other industry, he would be the Times Man of the Year.

But crime doesn't pay, kiddos, and this point is stressed even though only 2 people in the movie actually beleive this. And that includes all the boys in blue who serve and protect.

If gangster movies are not your thing, give this one a wide berth. But if you can handle a little blood, violence and crime, and think Denzel is da bomb, then you have to see this.

I saw Indiana Jones 4 twice

Yes. It is true. It was every bit as disappointing as everyone made it out to be, but I spent hard earned money and saw it twice.

Why? Because I forgot I promised my mum I would take her to it. And if I told her I already saw it, I would never hear the end of it.

So I lied, and pretended I didn't see it yet, and oohed and aahed and ewwed in all the right places.

Don't ever tell me I am not a consumate actress.

Ok, IJ4 wasn't that bad. It's just that if you were a fan of the series, then it was a bit disappointing. I was trying to put my finger on it, until I read this review by my favourite writer and then I realised he was absolutely right. What made Indy cool in 1 and 3 were the realistic, based-on-fact storylines. Which is also what made Temple of Doom so sucky.

IJ4's ending was more ridiculous than Temple of Doom, which at least had the saving grace of that cute little kid whose name escapes me at the moment. Till the last 15 minutes, it was a very good action-adventure flick, but then it was like they just couldn't decide whether to make it metaphysical or science fiction, and went hey, let's do both!! Geez Louise, pick a plot already.

However, how about that Shia LeBeouf eh? I thought he was quite brilliant in this movie, not quite stealing Harrison Ford's thunder, but coming pretty darn close sometimes. I think they probably wrote his part down a bit, so he wouldn't overshadow the big man himself. But I am gonna watch this kid, I think he will go far.

IJ4 is not a bad movie the way Aeonflux was bad, but it's not what one would expect from the Spielberg-Lucas powerhouse. This one won't be winning any awards, boys. Unless there is a category for "Cheesiest Ending with cliched punchline"

Waiting for Lontong

Everyday, the place I work has a designated menu for staff lunch, which comprises 2 usually rather delicious dishes, which are available to staff for just over $3. The offering are usually quite respectable, comprising mainly of local dishes like fish curry, fried HK noodles and the odd continental dish like fish and chips.

Today's menu was pineapple fried rice or chicken lontong. I decided on the chicken lontong, because of my problem with pineapple (gives me ulcers)

I placed my order at 12.20pm. And waited. My tardy colleagues from marcom arrived 10 minutes later.

And waited. My tardy colleagues received their food. (pineapple rice was probably pre-made, I tell myself)

And waited. Tardy colleagues finished lunch and were talking about dessert and coffee (maybe they ran out of lontong and were making fresh ones, I reasoned).

And waited. Tardy colleagues finish coffee and head back to work, leaving me to the company of coleagues who came after me. And who were happily eating their pineapple rice.

And waited. I am reminded that my lunch hour is not in fact an hour, but 45 minutes. Something to do with working 44 hours and still getting alternate Saturdays off. Anyway...

Finally a platter containing what does NOT look like pineapple rice arrives and is placed in front of me. Time check: 1.15pm.

Just for the record, I am not a patient person. On the contrary, I hate waiting and have a 10 minute waiting threshold for appointments and meetings.

So why did I do all that waiting? I think I just wanted to see how far they would go. And now I know. one near bloody hour. And did anyone apologise or explain the situation? No.

I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that we pay a subsidised price. However, as my friend Chin would say, "But still!!"

Weddings and such

This has been a very wedding-y season. In the last 2 months, I have attended 3 weddings, with one more in two weeks. It has been a tremendous strain on the emotions, not to mention the pocket.

Yesterday's wedding was another Indian extravaganza where 4 million people are crammed into a hall meant for 1000 at most, waiting for the pivotal moment where the groom ties the nuptial string around the bride's neck with 3 reef knots (as opposed to a noose knot), and everyone breathes a sigh of relief that the buffet is now open.

Ok, I admit that was a bit cynical, but honestly, you should have seen the mass exodus into the dining area the minute that ceremony was over. It was like noone was actually there for the bride and groom.

Then there is the whole "line up to present gifts" thing. Of course in Singapore, where cash is king, noone gives presents anymore. Show me the money, baby!

I noticed only one very "foreign talent" looking couple grasping their gift wrapped in purple paper (no less), looking slightly worried that their present may be flung back on their faces and hard cash demanded.

But as all weddings, baby blessings and funerals are, this was a good chance to catch up with old friends who you thought fell off the face of the earth. Upon talking for a while you realise YOU are the one that fell off.

This wedding was a Ngee Ann ICS circa 1995 gathering, which was strange to say the least. I had to crack my brain to remember who was talking to who, who stole whose girfriend, and which of the stately (and portly) men who are now husbands and fathers were the biggest skirt chasers back then. Back then...(cue wavy lines)

Ah, nostalgia.

Anyway, after the wedding, I was sufficiently depressed to seek some liquid solace. So upon calling a few friends, I decided to join a bunch on my first sojourn to St James Power Station. After blathering around for a bit, we finally decided on the Latin music place called Movido's (Movida's - Thanks, Ah-neh). It has a good band from Paraguay, with the DJ spinning World music in between for a bit of a kick.

But oh my, the crowd. It was so packed, that there wasn't even space to flatulate. Dancing comprised of shuffling your feet and moving your shoulders. Everything else had to be on the inside. However the band impressed enough for me to want to go back and check them out on a quieter night. Anyone wanna go with me?

Ok, I have digressed enough. Back to weddings.
Here is what I wrote on the card/ moneyholder yesterday.

They say a man who finds a wife, finds for himself a precious thing.
To be protected under his arm, held close to his heart and cherished with his words and deeds.
You have found such a woman; exalt her and let her embrace you with the fragrance of her femininity.

Commitment

I made a commitment this weekend.

People who know me know what a big deal this is. I am not the kind of person who likes to commit to something for long, preferring the excitment of change and variety to the steadfastness (steadfastity?) of a long term relationship.

But this was different.

For one thing, it did not require me to give up anything that I love already anyway.
If anything, based on what was presented on saturday, it will enhance my experience in this respect.

So, upon signing on the dotted line, I just I am now a figurative card-carrying member.

Based on past expeience, I haven't done this well. I hope I don't screw this one up too.

The week after

Now that things are back to normal for a while at work, its time to catch up on all the things/ people I love to do/see that I haven't even thought of doing in a while.

Started off on Sunday with a night out on the town with S. Haven't see him since St Paddy's day and that was not the most fun night. 3 guys sitting around talking about the SAF is not really my idea of a good time. Although the pints of Kilkenny kinda made up for it.

So on Sunday, we went to 3 very different clubs - one with a great view outside but not inside, the second where i was probably the only one over 30 and finally to this joint that was probably fun if you could see through all the smoke. Smoke machine smoke. Cos smoking is banned in clubs, in case you didn't know.

Monday, after sleeping of the initial stages of inebriation, I met A and T for coffee at TCC. TCC is probably my fave cafe now. Its got great service, love the drinks and to top it off, they have the best dessert in the world.

ladies and gents, feast your eyes on "Dark Devotion"


It is a warm chocolate cake with a molten centre, topped with vanilla ice cream and a raspberry croulis. Heaven.

And on Tuesday, I came home to watch "The Last Mimzy" with my son. Sucky theology, great sci fi.

Today is Thursday, and I may go get a facial. God knows its time. My skin looks like Tommy Lee Jones on a good day.

It's over

The really big event that I had been stressing over the last 2 months is finally over, and I feel like a huge stone has been lifted off my chest.
Its been a really exciting, stressful, rewarding and frustrating time. And if that sounds confusing, then you know exactly how I feel.

So in the midst of the post-production blues, I will recount some key points, lest I forget.

1) The number of people who appreciate your efforts far outweigh those that don't, even if they don't always say it. And the naysayers are totally inconsequential.

2) People who do say how much they appreciate your efforts are worth their weight in gold.

3)Things don't go according to plan always, but that's ok.

4) When things do go wrong, it is not cool to squat down in a foetal position and put your head in your hands. Not glamourous. This is exactly what I did when my slide show didn't come on with the music as planned and then hung for an eternal 7 seconds. Not glamourous at all.

5) It's also not cool to yell at your colleagues when they are just as frazzled as you are about aforementioned slide show boo boo. And be thankful when they understand you are stressed and don't hold it against you. Thanks ZW and TX, for being decent human beings.

6) When people come and harangue you about stuff you can't control, it's good when your CEO walks by and provides the answers and shuts the person up. At this point, its also ok to smile smugly. That told you, little Miss Control Freak.

7) It really feels good to see the President and his wife laughing, clapping and having a good time. Makes all the crap worthwhile.

8) It's nice being hugged by your boss :)

Moving

Whoever scheduled us to move office in the same week as the most important club event of the year ought to be strung up and made to listen to 12 hours of the Umbrella song.

It was a nightmare. No email, no phone, no fax, boxes everywhere. It took its toll on us in the way of strained backs, general stinkiness and the wonderful feeling of having 3000 things to do and not getting any of it done. Sigh.

The new temp office is not as bad as I thought though. Its sorta like a cabana in the middle of the forest, a little hideaway where noone can find us.

Which is not a bad thing.

But, oh, the timing. It really riles me.

Life according to my Ipod

The Rules.
1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesn’t make sense.
4. With the answers down, or even comment on it.
5. Tag 5 people.

1) How are you feeling today?
Dil To Pagal Hai
(My Heart is Mad. Yep Yep, sounds about right)

2) Will you get far in life?
Let Your Love Go by Bread
(Hmm, cryptic, but a message there, maybe?)

3) What’s your best friend’s theme song?
Something more than this from Baghdad Cafe, the Musical
(Oh absolutely)

4) What is the story of your life?
Came to the Rescue by Hillsong United
(Woah, thats just so true isnt it? If I wasn't rescued from my cesspit of a life, and found the Lord, goodness now what I will be now)

5) What was school like?
London Bridge by Bread
(Yes, it was indeed falling down all around me, all the time)

6) How can you get ahead with life?
Khabi Khabi Mere Dil Mein from Movie Khabi Khabi
(Sometimes,sometimes, this heart of mine... Quite true this. I tend to follow my heart more than my heart more times than I care to count)

7) Whats the best thing about your friends?
Dismal Day by Bread
(As in they brighten up my...)

8) Describe your grandparents.
Nee Kattum Selai
(Translation: The Sari you wear. Strange. I do remember seeing my grandmother in a sari alot)

9) How’s your life going?
How Much More from You Gave album
(I do feel overly and abundantly blesses at times. Not lately, but at times.)

10) What will be played at my funeral?
Shout to the Lord
(Yes Yes!!! Couldn't have said it better)

11) Will you have a happy life?
If by Bread
(Woah... like..woah )

12) What do your friends really think of you?
Shout your fame by Hillsong
(Please do. I lap up affirmation of this sort)

13) Do people secretly lust after you?
Look what you have done by Bread
(Is that a yes?)

14) How can you make yourself happy?
God is good by Various Artists
(Amen to that)

15) Will you ever have children?
Baghdad Cafe from Musical Baghdad cafe
(Apparently I will eat instead)

16) What song would you strip to?
Psalm 91 from You Gave album
(Ok, that's just wrong)

17) What does your mom think of you?
Yes and Amen Sermon by Pastor Joseph Prince
(She always did say I was her favourite daughter)

18) What is your deep, dark secret?
Fancy Dancer by Bread
(No secret man. Everyone knows I am fabulous on the dance floor)

19) What is your enemy’s theme song?
Above All by Michael W Smith
(Not even. You are going down, buddy)

20) Whats your personality like?
From the Inside Out by Hillsong
(Apt)

21) What will be played at your wedding?
Light by Hillsong United
(It will be a total rocker wedding dude.)


Heh heh, that was fun. Now if you read all the the way through this, consider yourself tagged.

The Many Uses of Bath Foam

Ok, straight off, I want to put down a disclaimer that if there are any readers who are squeamish about female issues, stop reading now.

Now that that's done with, here is a trip down memory lane.

Remember those laundry detergent ads from our childhood with people in white lab coats? The well groomed dudes who always are conducting some kind of product test to a group of easily impressed women?

Anyway, one line from that ad always caught my attention as a child.
" Washes away dirt, grease and blood. Just rub a little on the stain, and the rest in the wash..."

I remember thinking, who is this person who keeps getting blood on their clothes. In my innocent little mind I am thinking kids who fall down a lot, etc.

Then I attained womanhood. And the reference to blood made sense. That's who deals with bloody clothes on a regular, frequent basis - fecund women who realise early that bloodstains are darn near impossible to get out of those lovely lacey undies.

I used to belong to that sad group, where no amount of soaking, scrubbing and "rubbing a little on the stain" helped. In most cases, the shadow of a stain remained. If I had a dollar for every stained but otherwise still serviceable panty i threw away, I will be able to buy stock in the lingerie company.

But one day, quite by accident, I found the perfect solution. Having run out of laundry detergent, I grabbed the nearest soap-type product, which happened to be my bath foam and quickly rubbed it onto the stain before it got a chance to set. I expected to just use it as a stop gap, but lo and behold, on the first rinse, the stain totally disappeared! No shadow, no soaking, nothing!

That's my secret to clean underwear now. Bath foam. Preferably the kind with some kind of skin lightening or whitening ingredient. Apparently those create a higher oxygen reaction which is the best thing getting rid of blood stains.

And honestly, I rather have bath foam on my underwear than bleach.