Gratitude list: Technicolour dream

1)  Notebook from Malaysia

S and E got me this very cool notepad from a recent trip across the Causeway.  We were teaching about Aurangzeb and his empire in class that week and this was the perfect reminder (we do that a lot at work, make inside jokes and send each other articles about the topic of the week).  It's so pretty that I haven't been able to bring myself to use it, but if I ever do and finish the paper inside, I might get the cover framed or put it up on the wall. 

2)  This ridiculous box of nerds

A student brought them to class and I just had to take a picture.  There were even separate slots to dispense each flavour!  He said they tasted pretty foul and offered me the lot, but I really just wanted to enjoy the colours.

3)  Washi tape!

Amanda is probably smirking at my washi tape collection, but I love it anyway.  I went from being a washi skeptic to fully embracing it and just looking at this plastic pot of tape on my table makes me smile.  I've promised myself: no more new rolls until I've used up some of the tape here. 

I have to admit though, JM's growing collection (solid colours!  Moustaches!) is making it quite difficult for me to resist. 

Pink Dot 2013

Pink Dot 2013 was huge.  Several thousand people more than the year before and several thousand more than the year before that.  I remember when it first started and there was enough space for attendees to perform elaborate dances and blow human-sized bubbles.  The dot was still literally a dot in a field of green.

This time it was packed to the sweaty gills with good-natured pink-wearers who had come to stand against bigtory.

To be honest, it was so uncomfortably hot that it occurred to me that I needn't have gone; I could've stayed at home and continued expressing my support and living my beliefs.  Being there moved me anyway.

Some part of me found new affirmation in humanity.  A beautiful man with a gauze rose on his head offered me snacks when he saw me panting through the throng.  People brought their children, dressed fat babies in fuchsia, started teaching them about acceptance so that they would grow up never using the word "gay" as an insult again.  I ran into Nina and Sson, sang songs and ate cheese with Wai Kit, Edie, Shirin and Jia Min.  Watched people loved and be loved; smiled at couples embracing openly where they couldn't do so elsewhere.  

A different part of me though, felt down.  As the sun set, we all stood up to sing the national anthem.  There was a ripple through the younger people in the crowd, snickers of disdain and eye-rolling.   But I always sing the national anthem with gusto and off we went.  A few bars in, I realised that there was someone singing even more loudly than me.  I turned around and saw a middle-aged woman standing with her partner.  She had her eyes squeezed shut, fingers locked in prayer and was belting the words about togetherness and progress as if her life depended on it.

And I thought: she loves Singapore as much as anyone does.  Maybe even more.  And despite that, she's probably going to be treated like a second class citizen all her life.  She'll never be able to live openly with the person she loves, never be able to have a family and bring them up and show them the city that she clearly adores.  I was overcome with a wave of sadness, and I had to look away. 

Despite the heat and the overwhelming press of people, I'm glad I went.  It was good to spend an afternoon in what felt like an alternate universe where anyone and everyone had the freedom to be in love, if only for a little while.    

Grub and gossip

If you told me the picture above had been taken in some far-flung part of the British countryside, I wouldn't have any trouble believing you.  The truth is that the stream wends through the less exotic but no less beautiful Bishan Park.  

I hadn't properly been to Bishan Park for ages (exhausted stumbles around in the darkness after the newspaper went offstone don't count) and when I headed there for brunch before Pink Dot last week, I was really impressed by the landscaping.  

There are now bridges arcing through misty green vegetation and an abundance of fish, and I stood over the brook for quite a while, savouring the moment.  Of course, I there to have brunch with friends including my very dear buddy, Kim.

When Kim and I used to work in the same place, we often had great laughs together, sneaking off to pursue stories or have illicit lunches together.  I'll never forget the time our friend, Jamie, and I attempted to work on an undercover story while Kim drove the getaway car and we ended up screeching out of the neighbourhood laughing in nervous hysterics.

I don't think I've ever said though, that Kim was a big reason why I started this blog.  Right after the break up, I was meeting a lot of good friends and trying my best to put up a strong front.  I couldn't help vacillating between tears of despair and anger and the night Kim and I went to Wild Honey for coffee, I was a massive mess. 

I remember plastering on a smile and telling her that I was reading all these books and they were doing me a lot of good, and she calmly leaned across the table, put her hand on my arm and said, "Your books will tell you a lot of things, but your books don't know you the way your friends do.  And I just want to say, as a friend, that you are a really special person."

That simple gesture of kindness undid me - I still tear up thinking about it today - and we ended up talking for a long time about relationships and break ups and how it isn't your fault if your partner ends up changing their mind because you're not in the same place in life.  "You're going to be just fine," she had said, "after all, what are you going to do?  Curl up and die?  That's not an option."

That night was an illuminating one for me.  I walked into my house feeling peace for the first time in weeks and I sat down and wrote about it, and wrote, and wrote.

The feeling has come and gone since, but every time I feel on the brink of a breakdown, I close my eyes and go back to that moment, to the sound of the ticking engine as we sat in her cooling car in my estate, and I feel calm again.

This time round, the group of us hunkered down over coffee at Grub and talked about life and love and fear and learning and growing and changing, and friends you trust and people you don't.  And just by talking about it, we somehow set life right again.

The gift of peace is rare and restorative and I don't think I could ever thank Kim enough for it.  I do know that even though we don't meet very often, I think of her a lot and even as she goes through a new phase in life now, I send nothing but peace and love in her direction.

Plus, who doesn't love a girl with a killer sense of fashion?

Sunbird

My father recently pointed out that in the afternoons, sunbirds flock to feast on our yellow bells and I jumped at the chance for photo practice.  Last Saturday, I sat in the garden for two hours with some marking and my long lens in my lap.  

At about twenty metres away in the relative shade of my house, I could just about see when the flowers of the plant started to tremble under the tiny clutching claws of a visitor.  Given the distance and the subject, it was really difficult to catch a moment when the sunbird was in focus and there was no time at all to adjust exposure or aperture.  I ended up with only a few usable shots at the 135mm range of the lens (I tried to stay there to keep maximum sharpness).

In general, I think I could use a much steadier hand and be quicker on the draw for increased sharpness, but for now, I'm just so happy to see them enjoying the little bush and knowing that they're likely to be back soon.

A public service announcement

Uniqlo is basically my favourite shop in the world.  Forgetting the annoying nasal singsong "WecCOME to uNIQLO!", I love the quality, the reasonable prices and the sheer range of clothes for all seasons.  Everything is decently cut and just smart casual enough for both work and play.  

We taught a lesson about Uniqlo's business plan last week and in doing my research, I discovered that they've just unleashed a collaboration with Baskin Robbins.  Yes.  The ice-cream place.  

In the form of summery shorts.  In 31 flavours.  My wallet never stood a chance.

Source: http://www.uniqlo.com/sg/product/women/special/31

I ran right down to the Uniqlo store near my place and grabbed an armload of designs en route to the changing room.  After marshalling some self-restraint, I walked out of the shop with two pairs.  The sweet pink checkered pair is in the "flavour" Ichigo Milk and the Lemon Sherbet shorts have delightfully juicy-looking sliced lemons all over them.

The tag claims that the shorts are knee-length, but they're definitely a more flattering mid-thigh cut.

I love how soft and breezy they are and at $16.90 a pop, you can enjoy your dessert guilt-free.

The Ichigo Milk shorts were my pink clothing item for Pink Dot this year (post coming up) and they were very comfortable.  Still, I think I'd better stay out of Uniqlo for a while.