Men have it hard, too...

The other day, while I was at the hairdresser's getting a Japanese perm, I read a magazine article about a woman, who went undercover as a man. Two things struck me:

1) Men are hesitant to approach a woman, lest they get rejected.

2) Men cannot open up to their buddies, because they don't want to appear vulnerable.

Now, it's easy to brush it off as macho crap and their egoistical nature. But I'm leaning towards a more sympathetic view.

At clubs, I've been approached by very forward men. I remember succintly a Turkish tourist, who came up to me and said "I need a girlfriend", to which I replied "Good luck". (Ouch?) Then, he ventured with "Is this Singaporean hospitality?" and I said, "No, this is the hospitality of any self-respecting woman". In a heartbeat, he went off in search of greener pastures (I bore witness to it). Now, maybe I had been presumptuous - that he was looking for, pardon my language, a fuck. But the way he said it, huh uh, came across as dubious.

And there was this time at a cafe in Los Angeles when a British expatriate came up to me and said, "I know this sounds terribly like a pick-up line, but you really do look like a friend of mine." I appreciated his honesty and exchanged name cards (because my tour bus to celebrities' homes was honking). It has been three years and we still keep in touch over email every now and then. Now, he's the kind of guy I'd want to date, dress in sexy knickers for and rub aromatherapy oil on his back (a pity he's thousands and thousands of miles away...)

So, anyway, what I'm trying to say is if a guy is looking for sex, just come right out and say it, and if the girl is up for it, there's no reason for her to turn you down. But you must be prepared for girls like me, who are looking for something much more than living out fantasies on a four-poster bed (hint, hint ;P).

But, guys, if you feel there's a tiniest possibility that the lady, who has caught your eye, could be something more, then go for it and say something like, "I would like to learn more about you and sex is the last thing on my mind" (this way, you acknowledge that yes, as a full blooded male, you do think about sex but your interest in her is not purely as a piece of meat).

As for part two, guys, talk to your friends. Why not, when you can spill your guts to the bartender after you've had one too many drinks. There's a time and place for that chat and it's certainly not when you're with your buddies post a soccer game (especially when nothing seems to be going right in your life and even your favourite football club has let you down). Confide in one trusted buddy - who cares more about you than the casual bartender - over the phone, coffee or a chill-out session at your place. And guys, if your pal is trying to confide in you, listen to him, weigh his worries and give him your measured opinion - see him not as a man, but as a human being, who has his share of insecurities, just like the next person - be it a man or a woman.

Ladies, you, too, can do your part. It's tough for a man to admit to his girlfriend that he has weaknesses, but if he can't face you, then just reassure him and let him know, "I'm here if you need to talk and I'll not judge you", seal it with a kiss and go about doing your normal, daily things, instead of pressurising him for an answer, which will all the more make him refrain from expressing himself. And when he does open up, be more sympathetic towards him, because we are HUMAN first, man or woman second, boyfriend and girlfriend third, and so on.

I'm not a qualified counsellor and I can only speak from experience. My ex-boyfriend once said to me, "I feel better after talking to you. I cannot do it with my friends, because I don't think they'll accept me for it" (if you're wondering why we broke up, it's because we failed to reach a compromise on our expectations on so many different levels, not because of a communication breakdown).

All the best.

PS: Feel free to share your opposing views or otherwise. We agree to disagree, yes?

My family

Later today, I'm going to take my mum out to East Coast Park/Marine Parade (remember it from my previous Singapore Is The 25th Best City entry?).

In the past few years, I've been so busy with work, school, my friends and ex-bfs that I admit I've neglected my family.

Although we live in the same house - it's tradition for singletons to stay with their parents - my relationship with my family has been sort of a hi, how's your day, fine, ok good night.

In the beginning of the year, it dawned on me that my family gives me stability, they are always there, looking out for me quietly in the background. So, I decided that I would make an effort to spend quality time with them.

But I failed to keep my promise until today. My mum pointed out this to me a few days ago. Hence the planned outing to the beach and shopping.

I'm closest to my mum. I adore her, I do. For the longest time, my bane with her is she's too much of a cleanliness freak (perhaps that's why I'm so rebelliously untidy). But other than that, she has been pretty cool. She lets me do whatever I want, never imposed curfews, is always supportive of me (well, she'll air her grouses like the time when I wanted to change jobs, but in the end, she'll always relent). I've grown to appreciate her more than in my younger days. Perhaps that's what maturity is all about.

Let me tell you a little more about my mother. She's the sixth child of sixteen children. Her dad was a school caretaker and her mum, a housewife. Her role at home then was the housekeeper (which explains why she's so particular about neatness). She studied until third grade, thankfully, she can read and write simple stuffs. She dreamt of becoming an actress, but in those days, women are trained to be housewives and not to hanker after any personal ambition. She met my dad, who lived in her neighbourhood, at 18 and they dated until they got hitched when she was 24 (pictured during their courtship).

Now, let me tell you a little more about my father. He's the second of four children. His dad was a British colonial army personnel and his mother, a housewife. Among his siblings, he was the most responsible and he had always been the head of the household. He waited until all his siblings got married before he settled down at 28. My dad is a clever man, but whatever dreams he might have was suppressed when his dad passed away when he was 16. To support his family, he had to work as a security guard at night and went to school in the morning. He managed to scraped through his Cambridge O levels exam and joined the British army, as it seemed a natural thing to do and besides, it was a stable job.

My dad did rule the household with an iron fist. Which was why I had an estranged relationship with him - for seven years, we exchanged nary a word. But when I started working and my world was broadened, I realised he had done his job very well. He was a responsible dad and made sure we had proper education, apart from life's necessities. He also taught me one very important lesson in life - to be independent. When I asked him for a meaning of a word, he said check the dictionary. When I asked him for directions, he said ask a stranger. When I ask him to buy me something, he said earn it. I used to resent him for it, thinking he didn't care about me, but I've since realised the good that has come out of it.

My mother, on the other hand, taught me compassion. She taught me to see the good in people instead of focusing on their faults. She taught me to forgive and forget. She taught me to be down to earth, despite my successes. And the most important thing of all, she taught me to smile, despite whatever life dishes out to me.

Whatever my parents imparted to me has made me the person that I am. And I can only be better. Both of them give me balance - to seek my fortunes and at the same time, to remember the less fortunate. Which is why I am, to a great extent, a peaceful and happy person, because I learnt not to swept away by material things and to count my blessings. And I'll take care of my parents until the day they die (or I die but I've got it all covered).

Yesterday, my 19-year-old brother asked me for a loan for his Vespa licence. He asked my dad, who said, you guessed it, earn it. I told my brother dad's right, but he said he didn't want to work and enjoy life first, because he was going to be enlisted in the compulsory national service (army) for two years soon. And he said he would pay me back from the allowance he would get. I gave him a speech about independence but also decided to cut him some slack (am I doing the right thing?). I gave him a deadline to pay me back in full. And pray to God he'll learn about responsibility. My mum refused to have any part in it, because she doesn't want him to put himself in danger by riding a scooter.

At this point, my brother seems different from me. He's very much swayed by emotions and acts on impulses (whereas I'm a calculated risk-taker). He doesn't like school, so he doesn't put in effort and flunks his Cambridge exams, without thinking how it might affect him in future. He wanted to be a sound engineer (he's a very good drum player, since his marching band days) but the prospects weren't good here, so my dad objected since he was the one, who would be paying for the private course. So, my brother did the next best thing - by going to a public technical school and taking up graphic designing (he also happens to be good at sketching). I had to put in an appeal to the school because he wasn't eligible due to his exam results. But he failed one subject - because he didn't wake up in time for the exam! - and had to stay back another half a year in school just to retake it.

When I asked him recently what he plans for his future, he just looked at me and said "I guess I'll sign on with the army". He clearly has no interest in the army, but he's just going with the flow, because it's a stable job (and perhaps he thought it would make us get off his back). My goodness, doesn't all these sound too much like a blast from the past?

I can only hope that he would take the best of what our parents taught us and use it to his advantage. I don't expect him to be like me, but I do expect him to feel accomplished, independent, peaceful and happy.

PS: Pray tell, how can I help my brother?

PSS: Until I figure out how to insert links on my blog, I'll have to do this manually - please visit Blog Virgin/LP/Whiteboard Sandpit Blog at http://justtryinitout.blogspot.com/

Listless

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm bored. Me, who always finds something to do or find solace in just lounging in my nice four-poster bed, sipping ice tea, eyes on a novel.

But I just can't get into the Virginia Woolf paperback I'm currently halfway through, ice tea just doesn't taste appealing and I'm tossing and turning on the mattress.

It's past midnight here, and I can't think of anything else to do. If I did, then I wouldn't be here moping around (bear with me).

Let's see, what did I do today. I was roused by the alarm at 6.30am, just couldn't muster the energy to haul myself out of bed and convinced myself I would be able to in five more minutes. Wrong. I woke up at 8.30, made it to work by 9.30am, an hour past the official time.

Today was deadline day. And my clients were giving me a headache - and a heartache. This is something I got to get used to - working closely with clients, something, which I never had to do much before (until the job transfer).

Somehow I managed to plough through work - even unhooked the phone for awhile to have an undisturbed, peace of mind while trying to tie the loose ends. As usual, my boss was out for meetings. I had to email her just to get a simple message across.

I was craving for a cigarette, but I held myself back - until a colleague bumped into me on my way out of the ladies and offered, "You look like you need a puff." I caved in.

I finished work at five minutes to 6pm, official knock-off time, brilliant, now what did I do. I looked at my desk at a state of disarray. It looked worse than my room. But if I tried to do something, then I wouldn't make it (have this obsessive-compulsive disorder to finish what I start) to my salsa class. So, I powdered my nose instead.

Did my usual salsa routine, but felt bored. Skipped dinner and went straight home, feeling really bored. Watched Lost and Law & Order, and felt bored.

Thought about the weekend - this is my schedule on sat: Topshop closed-door shopping and grooming (occasional perk that comes with the job), aerobics and light training class, hair appointment (getting a Japanese perm), dinner with old friend from my restaurant days, movies and then drinks. Sounds like a fun urbanite lifestyle, yes? But I still feel bored.

So, what would undo my boredom? A backpacking trip in Italy (Milan, Venice, Rome and Florence). Yes, that's what I really, really, really want. Now. Right now. I want adventure, unpredictability and romanticism. Even if it's all just in my head. (The last holiday was a year ago, in Sydney, Australia, where I fought everyday with my ex-bf).

Can someone tell my boss to let me go!

Daredevil streak

Inspired by Pingcat and Coffeebigplz comments, I thought I'd list some of the daring things I've done in my 25 years. They aren't your Fear Factor feats but I think they require some chutzpah anyway.

In no order of merit:

1) Never give up dancing: During my fourth birthday party, I danced like a crazy horse, thanks to my dad who put me up to it. The aunts and uncles laughed so hard, I bawled like a baby. But I emerged from the episode as a dancer, who can rival the Crazy Horse cabaret girls.

2) Become a school prefect: Determined not to get bullied by others, I volunteered to become a prefect during primary three (third grade). I was also in the Top 10 every year and engineered my career from then onwards.

3) Revamp a society: Sick of other uniformed groups making fun of us Girl Guides, I standardised the look of our uniform (shirt tucked in slick, skirt above the knees, socks pulled up (literally), and shiny boots - to borrow Vidal Sassoon catchphrase: if they don't look good, I don't look good), and trained my girls in marching during the holidays. After the contingent marching at Speech Day Parade, one senior came up to me and said, "Good job". Till today, my girls, when they spot me on the street, refer to me as M'am (haha what an ego trip).

4) Save education: Because of too much partying and skipping classes, I was nearly kicked out of my diploma course in a public tertiary institution. I spun a sob story (genetic insomnia) and begged my lecturers to give me another chance. I made it to my graduation.

5) Start early independence: at 14, a McDonald's crew member. At 15, a HSBC bank clerk and a costume jewellery sales promoter. At 16, a restaurant host and an English and Maths tutor. At 17, a quality control factory worker, toiling the graveyard shift. At 18, a shopping centre announcer. At 19, a quality surveyor for a Mercedes distributor and a freelance writer. At 20, landed in the biggest publishing company in Singapore at my first real job interview.

6) Going on secret dates: Dated, though not proud of it, my physical ed teacher (no jokes, please :), a chief financial executive officer, my ex-schoolmate's ex-bf and a married man on the brink of divorce. It was painful but I walked away because it was the right thing to do.

7) Trip to Netherlands: Took something I wasn't supposed to and in my daze, stepped into the wrong bedroom, where my married friends were in action. Apologised profusely and treated them to a nice Mexican dinner the next day.

8) Trip to Los Angeles: First work-cum-leisure trip on my own. In between doing the Pretty Woman strut down Rodeo Drive, having fun on Santa Monica Boulevard feeling like Sheryl Crow, and getting in touch with inner child at Universal Studios, among other things - I managed to fend off the wolves (boy were there plenty) and returned in one piece, much to my mum's relief.

9) Trip to Thailand: Went parasailing, crashed into the waters because I couldn't reach the lever and dying to do it all over again, went to the ping pong (among other objects) show and smiled graciously through my dating friends' incessant bickerings.

10) Buy a big-ticket item: Signed on the dotted line for a $250,000 apartment I currently share with my parents and younger brother.

11) Make a career move: Against everyone's wishes and consent, I put in for a job transfer for less moolah but more time, then took up a degree course unrelated to my industry and never been happier.

PS: Share with me three instances of your daredevil streak

Personality order....

This week, inadvertently, my personality was put under the spotlight.

First, I was advised to take a leadership style test during class (part-time degree course).

And thanks to Canagal's website, I was spurred to find out What Classic Leader/Movie Are You?

So, I decided to wrap it up with an online IQ test. I don't know how much I can trust it but I scored 130 anyway.

For what it's worth, here are the details:

My leadership style: Influencing & Inspiring.

General Characteristics:
Enthusiastic
Trusting/Optimistic
Persuasive/Talkative
Emotional/Impulsive

Value to Team:
Creative problem solver
Great encourager
Motivates others to achieve
Positive sense of humour
Negotiate conflicts/ peace maker

Possible Weaknesses:
More concerned with popularity than tangible results
Inattentive to detail
Overuses gestures and facial expressions
Tends to listen only when it's convenient

Greatest fear:
Rejection

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Now if I were to combine all of these, I'd be a cool Abe Lincoln with a daredevil streak of Indiana Jones, who exploits wits and connections to escape the impetuous peril I land myself in, without bursting into tears.

Not bad, eh ;P

Salsa dancing and all that jazz....

Today, every Friday, is my salsa dance class. I'm now at the intermediate level, which means I can turn and spin without slapping anyone or tripping over myself.

Speaking of tripping, my shoes are abominable for the dance floor. The heels are too thin and the straps, too tight. I'm literally killing my feet slowly (imagine not being able to dance anymore!). But help is on the way. A Chinese uncle came to take measurements of my feet and those of my classmates, who were interested. Between the smattering of Mandarin I know and his halting English, I figured he said my feet are really broad (size 9 on a good, cold day and 10 on a bad, hot day).

Speaking of broad feet, I'd tried unsuccessfully to purchase a pair of dancing shoes from department stores. Which is why I had been wearing my Nine West shoes, which are, really, only appropriate for getting out of the house to the car and getting out of the car to the office. And I don't own a car (too costly in Singapore, a Toyota second-hand costs about $50,000 with certificate, taxes and what not).

Speaking of costs, I think I need to invest in a really good support bra (are there dancing bras?). I didn't like catching the sight of my bosoms bouncing in the ceiling-to-floor studio mirror. It made me self-conscious and I forgot my steps. I don't think the few men (there are always fewer men in dance classes in Singapore), minded though, and I swear I caught quite a few of them staring at my chest when they were supposed to be making eye contact.

Speaking of eye contact, I, unfortunately, haven't got the eyes for any of the men there. One is an ah pek (an old uncle, who swept his few remaining strands to cover his pate). Another is a Caucasian expat, whose wife is fiercely possessive. Another is a stiff schoolboy in uniform. The other is my instructor from my beginner's class, who chips in, nice chap, smallish and I suspect his girlfriend is one of the school's dancers. So much for expanding my social circle.

Speaking of social needs, dancing feeds my soul in a way. It's my only musical/artistic talent and I desperately cling on to it. I have to go and watch Take The Lead, starring Antonio Banderas as a salsa dancer. Last week, I watched Dirty Dancing 2 (I much prefer the first one with Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey). I've seen others like Save The Last Dance with Julia Stiles and the other one with Richard Gere and Jennifer Lopez, but none of them moved me. I quite enjoy the British Billy Elliott but my most favourite dance movie has got to be the Australian Strictly Ballroom. It's about this unattractive Spanish girl, who hooks up with a relatively hot Aussie guy and heat things up on the dance floor, and in the bedroom.

Speaking of making love, dancing is such a personal and intimate thing that it's not surprising many dance partners salsa all the way into each other's arms. Hmm, I would really love it if my future husband can dance...

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've an appointment to wiggle in front of my dressing mirror.

When friends drive you crazy...

My two closest friends once told me (on separate occasions) that they would marry me if I were a guy. I simply smiled in return.

It's a compliment, considering women are the harshest critics of their own kind. But they seemed to have forgotten to ask if I would accept their proposals.

The truth is, I wouldn't. I love them (as much as I hate them at times) and that's perfectly normal - healthy even - in any relationship, including friendship. But as narcissistic as this may sound, I want to marry someone more like myself.

I'm calm, patient, level headed and always take a step back and look at the situation. I haven't arrived at this conclusion overnight - it has taken years of self-reflection and practice in order to be so acutely aware of myself and live up to the person that I set out to be.

My friends' lives seemed much more exciting, with ups and downs, the euphoria and the tears. And, dare I say, there had been times when I felt a sliver of envy. Men flock to them, because they're vivacious, unlike the sedated me, who doesn't throw a hissy fit because I broke a nail.

Let's start with N, whom I met through college:

She's the outwardly bad gal. Smart and beautiful, she puts herself before others. She's a Capricorn, hates animals, doesn't suffer fools and expensive gifts are the way to her heart. She lives the high life (very well, since she earned it herself) and likes men, who fit into her lifestyle. Life is one big bubble of fun for N, and if you burst it, she'll just find another. She's prone to acting on impulse and worry about it another day (it's called living life to the fullest, she says).

She once said to me, "You love me because I'm a cold-hearted bitch" - yes, there are days she really deserves a tight slap - but I told her: "No, I love you because you've a ray of light and I can only hope it'll become a beacon one day." She shines in the way she has shown generosity towards me and her family, and that shows she's not incapable of being a good wife and a good mother.

And then, there's S, whom I met through work:

She's the outwardly good gal. Also smart and beautiful, she's caring towards others. And that's a trait that's easy to love. She (take all of these literally) washes, cooks, cleans and mothers you, and stands up for animals, the elderly and the poor, and will give away her last cent and go on an empty stomach.

But if you as much as raise the tiniest objection, she makes the cliche, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned', painfully real. Imagine, she's a Gemini, has thyroid problems and her moodswings change course faster than the viking ride at the fun fair. God, you've to seriously bite your tongue in order not to turn it into a ugly war of words.

Your closest friends can turn out to be toxic for your soul, serenity and sanity at times. And I deal with it by distancing myself away (I'll say, "I'm sorry, I'm terribly busy with stuffs" like contemplating whether I should actually tidy up my room). A time-out has really proven to be effective - those around you, who take you for granted, learn to appreciate you more, apologise profusely and try to make it up to you. And to forgive, oh, it's so divine.

So, this weekend, I shall take myself out, like I always do, for a trek at the Macritchie rainforest, drop by the Animal Resort and feed the rabbits and ponies, whip up a mean mushroom curry dish and enjoy it while raging or raving over the daily news reports, and sashay my tush down to the salsa club - not as the exciting La Nina but as the cool summer's breeze.

PS: How do you deal with toxic friends? Drop me a note.

Re: Singapore is 25th Best City on Lonely Planet's list!

Hi folks, as promised, the final leg of my Singapore tour. This is going to be my entry for the whole of next week, as I'm going to be busy.

Cheers!







ESCAPE FROM THE CITY

Singapore is also known as the Garden City. Even though the old kampung (village with houses on wooden stilts and attap leaves for a roof) had made way for an industrialised nation, you'll see a tree practically everywhere you turn (thanks to the urban planners). But there are some places you can go to escape the bustling city life.

CHANGI VILLAGE (not far from the airport)

1) Retreat: Rent a bungalow chalet by the beach (a friend had a marquee wedding here, it was gorgeous!). Or Meridien Changi Hotel, which has a wonderful spa that lives up to its name, The Retreat.

2) Activities: You can stroll or cycle along the beach. Not nice enough to swim. Once, my uncle rented a boat and took me fishing, but I got motion sickness. Think there are other sports you can do here.

3) Food: Nasi lemak* here is famous. Many stalls sell it.
*Malay cuisine: coconut rice eaten with sambal (chilli paste) and fried fish, anchovies, nuts,egg, chicken wings, otak-otak (fish cake), and sliced cucumber.

4) Sight: Just fyi - the tranvestites-hookers come out to play here (interesting
choice of spot)

SENTOSA ISLAND (an island off Singapore, which belongs to us)

1) Cable car ride: you can take it there and even enjoy a romantic gourmet dinner on it.

2) Attractions: Buttefly and Insect Kingdom and former military/war time Fort Siloso, among others.

3) Rasa Sentosa Resort or The Sentosa Resort & Spa: The former is pure luxury living. The latter has the most lushful spa in Singapore.

3) Party central: There used to be foam parties but now the hotspot is KM8 pub, where there's a pool for people to lounge and sip a cocktail under the stars.
FOND MEMORY: Met my ex-French bf at a dawn-till-dusk party. First lip-lock here...darn the French!

EAST COAST PARK

1) Beach: not as fantastic as Sentosa's but hot with locals. They pitch up tents (you no longer require a government permit), do a barbecue, cycle, roller blade, surf (in spite of the weak waves) and so on.
FOND MEMORY: Welcomed the millenium with ex-Indian bf here. Played with sparklers as the ships shot their flares into the sky.

2) Residential estate: It's hot with the locals because it's near the Marine Parade estate (under the charge of our former prime minister). You can see the different types of housing, the sky-rise public blocks, the private condominiums and landed houses.
FOND MEMORY: Fell in love with ex-Malay bf while watching the sunrise at his apartment on the 19th floor.

3) Parkway Parade: I love this cluster of shopping centres. You can also go bowling, play pool, arcade games, visit the library or get books from the rent and sell bookstore, drop by the pet shop and of course eat till you go dizzy at the mega hawker centre.

MACRITCHIE RESERVOIR

1) A nature escape from the bustling city - you can take the tree-top walk (built by HSBC bank), simply trek through the rainforest (monkeys are friendly until you feed them and they go gaga) or traispe on the specially constructed board-walk or even canoe here. Mornings are the best time to go.

There are, of course, the popular tourist spots like the Bird Park (a friend once held a wedding here with hundreds of flamingoes for a view) and Singapore Zoo (while on the night safari tram, saw lions making out, oops).



NOCTURNAL SPOTS

The spots I'm recommending are relatively sugar, spice and rather nice. There are seedier places (which some might find interesting) but not my kind of scene.

ORCHARD ROAD

1) Bar None - housed in basement of Marriott Hotel. Has stood the test of time. Was once home to S'pore premiere rock band (who enjoyed a hit on US Billboard Top 100 back in the '80s). Now resided by Jive Talking, one of the top Top 40s band around.

2) Devil's Bar - a homage to the Red Devils aka Manchester United (half of S'pore's fans are partial to this English football club). Dear Dennis Foo, the very hospitable owner, is a big fan and blows tens of thousands of dollars on soccer betting in one night. His place has got a house music room, live band room, pool-playing room and a patio, where they serve coffee.

3) Others worth a mention: Hard Rock Cafe - salsa nights are on Thurs (tell you more about my affection for dancing another time) and Thumper at Goodwood Park Hotel, the celebrity haunt du jour.

4) Peranakan Place: another stretch on Orchard Road. Lined with pubs like No. 5, Ice Cold Beer and Que Pasa. Great spots for chilling out, knocking back a couple of drinks and nibbling on finger foods.

CLARKE QUAY

Note: Boat Quay, the lesser cousin (some might disagree with me), is a 10min stroll away. Linked by Singapore River, so you can shuttle by boat.

1) Ministry of Sound: The UK franchise has done up its place nicely. Different rooms for different music tastes: Studio 54 (disco), Smoove (R&B) and so on... But I can't say much for the service. My girlfriend once quarrelled with a rude doorman.

2) Crazy Horse: Artistic nude cabaret shows. My question is: why isn't there a male version?

3) 1 Nite Stand Comedy Club: as its name suggests, it features stand-up comedians (am so waiting for Russell Peters (he's Canadian, isn't he?). Also has a live Top 40s band. A colourful place (have spotted hookers) but you can go crazy here and nobody gives two hoots.

4) Others that might be worth a mention: Crazy Elephant (which also stood the test of time, has got a live rock/blues band, populated with expatriates and tourists) , Hooters (no busty girls, but lots of cellulite-free bums in short shorts, surprisingly, food's not bad) and Attica, where the models go.

MOHAMED SULTAN (a stone's throw away from Clarke Quay)

1) Coyote Ugly - first pub to go big on bar-top dancing girls after it was made legal. Enough said.

2) Dbl O - big place, good variety of patrons, plays R&B, house, '80s retro and Top 40.

JIAK KIM STREET

1) Finally, the long-standing, award-winning cluster of clubs - Zouk, Phuture and Velvet Underground (all under the same management). They've got international visiting deejays spinning regularly like Paul Van Dyk, Sasha, Carl Cox, John Digweed, Basement Jaxx, Underworld and so on.

So, when are you coming ;P

Singapore is the 25th best city on Lonely Planet's list!

I feel very proud that a small country-cum-city like Singapore can beat bigger and better known cities like Shanghai and Sydney. We're nestled in a tiny, red dot on the world map, takes up no more than 647km square area, only a matter of half hour's drive from one side of the island to the other (with light traffic flow).

I haven't got a chance to read the content of the list but got wind of it from newspapers reports. A local professor pointed out the list failed to mention the greatest Singaporean passion: food. And I totally agree.

For a start, you should go to the average coffee shop or a hawker centre, which is available in practically every housing estate. It's made up of rows of food stalls beckoning you with anything from Chinese to Malay and Indian food at dirt-cheap prices (you can get a fulfilling plate of chicken rice for $3). It's usually in an outdoor, non-airconditioned setting, so you can smoke, chew noisily and let your hair down without ever feeling out of place.

MUST-TRY (at any time of the day): A cup of strongly brewed kopi (coffee), kaya toast (charcoal-toasted bread spread with jam made from coconut, sugar, egg and pandan leaves) and half-boiled eggs eaten with soya sauce or white pepper. Costs a grand total of $5 (approx. US$2.50).

So, today's entry is dedicated to all things I love about Singapore. If you want a tour guide and a roof over your head, that can be arranged. I'll work for soup (maybe one of those bone soups, slurps) and let you share my four-poster queen-sized bed (provided you clean up the room, hehe).

HERITAGE TRAILS

Singapore is made up mainly of three ethnicities: the Chinese, the Malays and the Indians (something like 70 %, 20 % and 10 % - others make up a very small percentage). I shall introduce three cultural spots: Arab Street, Little India and Chinatown. They are made up of rows and rows of British colonial two-storey shophouses ( you live upstairs and work in your shop below) - in different areas though.

ARAB STREET

This is where the Malay-Muslims congregate. It's a very safe place - S'pore is a multi-racial and multi-harmonious society. I've friends from many different races and religions. We haven't had a riot in 30 years - we make noise by writing to the national newspapers ;P

1) Sultan Mosque - makes you think of 1,001 Arabian Nights. You can enter just as long as you take off your shoes.

2) Shisha pipe places - there's a string of Middle Eastern eateries, which also offer you a healthy, fruity-flavoured smoke (Love the look and feel of the pipes! Makes you feel like a sultan (or maybe a sultanah) !).

3) Frilly fabric stores - the ladies will lurve this. You can get hold of laces, brocade and any other fanciful fabric to make tops and dresses here. There's also a cool Commes Des Garcon Guerilla store in the area, too.

4) Spa Sauvignon - the first spa on the island to offer wine-dripping bath, scrub and massage (S'pore is a spa haven). Had a chance to try out. Very chi-chi.

5) The popular Malay and Indian eateries here like Sabar Menanti and Zam Zam respectively are worth checking out.

LITTLE INDIA

1) Sri Perumal Temple - apart from housing Hindu deities, the temple also hosts weddings. No-one will know if you gatecrash, as long as you copy what the other guests do!

2) Mustafa Centre - it's a 24-hour shopping haunt, popular with tourists and locals alike. You can find anything from electronic goods, jewellery, toiletries and groceries here. Sometimes, after watching a midnight movie, I'll go there and stock up on toiletries and frozen foods. Prices are slightly cheaper, because the centre makes money by selling in volumes.

3) Tekka Market - here's a good place for you to experience the sights, sounds and smells of a typical wet market, where you can buy meat, vegetables and so on at prices lower than the supermarkets'. Great food stalls and clothing stores here, too.

4) Haniffa Textile - you'll get starry-eyed from seeing the glittering sarees sold here. Other places sells cheaper sarees but this place still has the most variety.

5) Beauty parlours and spas - another treat for the ladies. Services include eyebrow threading (using strings to shape your eyebrows, it takes skills) and intricate henna tattoo (lasts for a month or more) on your hands.

6) A good mix of high-end and budget diners, North and South Indian cuisines here, although it's hard to tell them apart based on the food (they are all scrumptuous, especially when you eat with your hands). Some places I recommend: New Delhi, Banana Leaf, Komala Vilas, Ananda Bhavan and Akbar.

CHINATOWN

1) Thian Hock Keng (Taoist temple) - it has got a loonngg history.

2) Jade (cinema): Okay, I'm not exactly recommending it, but this is, like, the only cinema, who's not embarassed and openly shows explicitly sexual movies (RA, restricted for patrons under 21). It's very old and smells, erm, spunky. Because of its dodginess, the first Scream movie premiere was screened here, which marked my one and only visit.

3) Shopping: Chinese decorative items like painted masks and Chinese embroidery for women as well as men. I once got a cheongsam-inspired top for $35 (approx US$15, it's so cheap, one feels guilty to bargain). US popstars like Alicia Keys and (okay, Canadian) Avril Lavigne did a fair bit of shopping here.

4) Too many good makan (eating/food) places to name. Try the celebrity favourite spot Kah Soh, if for nothing else, its beansprouts and salted fish dish.

5) Rustic Nirvana - the innovative spa, one of the early ones on the market, offers services like Chopstick Massage (have tried it, very shiok (great)) and Prata Claypot Therapy.

Okay, I'll return another day to share with you my picks of Night and Nature spots.

Amelia Earhart said...
Hello ladies!

I am welcoming you with arms wide open to visit my wonderful city.

Just save for your passage and a bit of pocket money (SGD$1 is approx. CAD$0.60). You can stay with me and my family (it's part of the Asian culture for singles to live with their parents until they get married). It doesn't hurt that my mum is a terrific cook.

Chill out for a few days. And if you've a bigger budget, I'll take you to the famous Bangkok, Thailand (just an hour flight away).

See ya!

12:43 AM

pingcat (reluctantriter.blogspot.com) said...
Your writing paints an interesting and exciting city of great variety; particularly attractive to me is the focus on food. the smoking I can do without, finally having quit after a number of years of trying but "slurping", well that is a different story! Nothing like a good "slurp" at sometime during the day:-)

7:43 PM

CanaGal (canagal.blogspot.com) said...
thanks for the post on my blog - now, colour me stupid, but do I know you outside of the blogsphere??

9:10 PM


Quodlibet (mypetitequodlibet.blogspot.com) said...
Ahhhh! Now I have to add Singapore to my list of places I must visit! It sounds amazing! I just need an airline job so I can fly for free (or nearly free)!!

11:41 PM

Most men are needy?

This entry is sparked off by something a fellow blogger, who goes by the moniker ArtSlob, brought up (read his comments on my Boobs Over Brains entry below).

He said something I've always suspected to be true - that most men would rather date a bumbling beauty queen than a self-assured superwoman (Artslob: I, too, think the well-endowed winner is hot. By the way, runway chest refers to the state of being flat-chested).

Apparently, most men go for the damsels in distress because of their predatory instincts and nose for vulnerability. I'd say these men are needy, because they need to feel needed, yes?

Sigh. I can't help but feel a swirling mix of resignation, melancholy and disappointment. I remember vividly what my ex-boyfriend said to me when we broke up half a year ago, "You don't need me. You're going to be fine".

I've had well-meaning girlfriends, who hinted that I should try to seem less capable and ask for his help, even though I can very well accomplish it myself, and stroke his ego a little. Unfortunately, I'm not the type who'll dance to anyone's tune.

The thing is, I do NEED a man - but just not in the way he would expect me to. I need a man to hold me, make love to me, make me laugh, make sweet, little gestures to make me smile and so on. Just love me, know what I mean? On the other hand, I also need a man because I've so much to give and I want to shower my affection on him and basically be there for him.

At times, when the loneliness gnaws at me, I find myself pondering: should I, as Artslob put it, dumb down a little?
Tell me your thoughts.

On a lighter note, as promised, these are patterns of Singapore men according to their ethnicity and age of 25 to 40. I wouldn't call myself an expert but well, I've dated quite a few...

Chinese men: They will buy you anything you want. Because they think that if they don't, you'll leave them. Their sense of self-worth is determined by how much they have in their banks. Often, they work so hard for their money, they have little time for anything else, including sex.

Malay men: They are easy to please and you'd better be so, too. Because they are always counting their blessings, they don't think it's necessary to work harder, get a better job and move ahead in life. Chances are, things will be preserved exactly the way they are 10 to 20 years down the road.

Indian men: They love women like their pets. They don't want you to "invite trouble" by putting on a sexy outfit or go on a girls' night-out. So, just stay at home and you can make them happy. And they WILL keep you at home because they never seem to need a break from a romp!

Caucasian expatriates: They think they are God's gift to Asian women. They expect all Asian women to be subservient. If you're not, they look at you as though there's something wrong with you. Best to play Suzie Wong with them.

Boobs over brains

Last night, my girlfriend and I gleefully settled down on the couch to watch a telly programme on the search for Singapore's representative to Miss Universe (if you don't know what it is, you must have been living in your own world since the 1950s!)

The Singapore version of the beauty pageant has somewhat become a guffaw- because every year, you're greeted by women, who flaunt their flaws in more ways than one.

I would think you need to be physically outstanding to join a contest primarily based on looks. But we observed there were:

1) Pockmarked faces
2) Improportionate, pear-shaped hips
3) Runway chests
4) Duck walks
5) Forced smiles
6) Broken-necked heads (I've worked with model wannabes and I can tell you they tilted their heads to show off their best profile)

Somebody help yank them out of their delusions!

We're, of course, not dealing with rocket science here. Many of the contestants were inarticulate, kept tripping over their words and couldn't muster a witty answer to save their life.

In case you're wondering, the question posed during the pageant's final round was: Are foreign men better than Singapore men? (It's frivolous but tricky and some wit is certainly needed to tackle it)

The gist of the winner's answer was: Foreign men may be taller, more muscular and better built but I think Singapore men have good values like sensitivity and sincerity (in other words, foreign men are shallow and Singapore men are wimps. Haha!)

Anyway, I think the conclusion of the pageant was: boobs over brains.

The winner (pictured) was all supersized boobs on a stick-thin body. I can't tell whether she had work done because her boobs are kind of droopy (so, they are either au naturel or the result of a botched job). In the earlier parts of the show, I had joked she would bump (pun intended!) all the other competitors out of the way. Little did I expect my prediction would come true!

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a feminist - or a chauvinist for that matter. Would I have loved to look glamorous, wear beautiful clothes and be admired? Yes, which woman wouldn't, honestly? But I wouldn't strut my ass in front of a million eyeballs to derive or deprive my self-worth. I would do it only for my man (but that would be, ahem, for a different reason altogether).

Next year, you can bet your last dollar I'll hop on the couch with my best pal in tow and anticipate a good laugh when I turn on the telly and tune into the pageant. Because let's face it, pageantry is for pure entertainment and I'm pretty sure the contestants know it fully well.

I'm not making any apologies for it.

PS: Tell you my thoughts on Singapore men vs foreign men another day.

A woman's courage

"I want to do it because I want to do it. Women must try to do things as men have tried. When they fail, their failure must be but a challenge to others." - Amelia Earhart.

It feels strange to be writing this. I suppose everytime you step into the unknown, into unchartered waters, it's natural to feel an apprehension. You might think, "What's the big deal? It's just a blog!" But to me, it's a move to bare my soul and connect to people (though I haven't told anyone about this blog, but who knows who might read it).

I don't really have an agenda but I'm just going to dive right in. So, allow me to start from the basic: my name is not Amelia Earhart. Earhart, as some of you might already know, is a great female pilot of the early 20th century. She was brave, never afraid to pursue her dreams and plunged herself into a male-dominated field, which pilot-ing still very much is today. Even though I don't have a particular inclination towards aviation, I truly admire everything that she embodies.

Earhart disappeared mysteriously during her first ambitious round-the-world trip. I reckon she expired along with her plane, which last reported technical difficulties. Despite a massive search-and-rescue party sent out for her, she was never found. Her sudden disappearance made her all the more of an enigma. I don't think she would have wanted to part from this world in any other way - not that being blown to bits paints a pretty picture but because she died doing what she loved.

Her aura of mystery projects a little of the mystery I'd like to keep about myself. I'm a fiercely private person but who knows, one day I might just find the courage to come out of the closet (figuratively speaking).

How did I come to know about Earhart? I was thinking of a blog name for myself and decided to pick a name I've always loved: Amelia. When I google-d the name, I discovered Earhart and her story stirred me. Coincidentally, one of my favourite singers, Joni Mitchell, wrote the song Amelia for her (listen to it when you've time). Funny how things just fall into place.

That's not all. Recently, I chanced upon a group of women, who have succeeded in male-dominated fields. There were a budget airline CEO (wow!), a high court judge and a VP of a leading telecommunications company. They are truly amazing women, who managed to raise their family and at the same time, scaled the corporate ladder. I would like to get them to know better (and am taking steps to do so). They truly inspire me, like Earhart did, and maybe, I'll tell you more about them at a later time.

I guess I've arrived at the topic of my entry today: courage. Courage is what I need to take my career, my relationships and my life, as a whole, to another level. I'm still working on it. Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences with me.

Thank you and God bless.