Wonderful is brief

Well, the Swedih saying that underbart e kort, or wonderful is brief, will unfortunately apply to my quick second stunt here in the blogging world.

I have found an amazing job that enables me to write stuff more or less all the time, and now my creativity is much more keen on going out to paraglide, dance or just hike around some random jungle. Sitting in front of the computer looses its charm in comparison.

Sorry about the communication halt, but please do stay in touch all wonderful people that replied me and keep me posted on your own activities! And let's not forget to Skype, What's app, text, call or meet up in real life. IRL is by far still my favorite. :-)

Much love to you all!
Peace & Sunshine

PS. I just have to say this, I googled quickly for images around "underbart e kort", which could also be directly translated to Wonderful is Short", and on top of my Google image search came lots and lots of Swedish dwarfs. I LOVE Sweden. We are one humorous nation that (most of the time) respects all people on all levels. Big Up! :D

Biking at Pulau Ubin

Boat uncle

Back in 2007 it was something of an adventure to go to Pukau Ubin. We started early in the morning, and after riding the MRT almost to the end, and then taking the bus another 26 stops, we reached something that was supposed to be a ferry terminal. There we had to wait for an eternity until the boat (or "floating vehicle" might be a better description) took us over to a tiny little island with a proper Kampong village life.
 

Hanna kamponging

Kampong is how Singaporeans lived back in the days, with wooden houses on pillars, no MRT or EPR (road toll). At Pulau Ubin, back in 2007, there was nothing to eat, see or do, but one could hassle with the locals to rent bikes and cycle around the island for a couple of hours.

Now we have entered the new and commercialized era of Singapore's history and probably also a new more comfortable level of living in my on personal history. Therefore The Pulau Ubin Adventure started with a comfortable taxi ride to the ferry terminal, that now really do looks like a ferry terminal. The boat was still a bit questionable, but that made the whole experience a bit more genuine. There was also absolutely no waiting time as there was lots of people everywhere. 

Sometimes knowing how to ride a bike is NOT something you remember your entire life.

Lots of people were also everywhere on the tiny little island. Forget about cycling around in no-mans-land. This is proper Singaporean park adventure: there are signs on where to go and what to do. For example what to take photographs of and  where to stop and look at the view. This is totally fine by me. Nature stays on it's on end, I get to enjoy my urbanized environment and we are somehow happily co-excisting.

Major minus on the island was the mad number of killer mosquitoes that was out in broad daylight. All blood suckers, including mosquito and vampires can only come out at night, that's a fact, so I don't know what was wrong with these little buggers. 

Messy food

Consu's first chili crab

Major plus on the island was an incredible seafood lunch. At a whopping $25/person we feasted on fresher than super fresh chili crab and pepper crab, fried baby squids, seafood fried rice and chicken noodles, oyster omelette, beers and more. And then we had ice cream before a relaxing fish reflexology session. 

Coming back to mainland we had ice-cream again, or well, some of us did, before heading off to do some sportswear outlet shopping (we all saw a need for this after sweating like mad for the entire day). Finally the entire gang had dinner at Cafe le Caire on Arab Street before heading home.

A great day, filled with everything you need; best friends, comfortable exercising, outdoorsy activities, excellent food, several ice-creams and some shopping on sale. 

Consu, Julia, Farhana, Alan, Hanna (photographer: Nima)

Girl's weekend in Bangkok

8 girls, with very varied background and personalities decided to do a weekend in Bangkok together. It could have been complete mayhem, but turned out really awesome.

Arriving Friday night after a long busy week at work, we started out in a relaxed manner at Clouds, a cozy outdoor bar close to our service apartment. Sipping on fruity cocktails it felt GOOD to be on vacation in Thailand.

In no particular preference of order, we all decided that in 48 hours we should do Thai massage, shop at the market, go clubbing, eat a Thai tasting menu at a fancy restaurant, shop at a mall carrying local designer brands, discover some wicked bars, get a mani-pedi, try the pool, relax, ride a tuktuk, try the street food and the local ice-cream (yes, that last one was suggested by me). After that we figured we could just see what happens.

 

Getting ready for clubbing.

Tuktuk for two? Surely six of us can fit. 

Shopping at the market

Local coconut ice-cream. YUM!

We really reall really wanted to steel it.

Successful shopping results

Got only a little bit tired towards the end...

All in all, Bangkok was fantastic! The fancy Thai dinner was incredible with exotic flavor bursts and creative combinations of known and unknown food. Clubbing was sweaty and sweet (free shots at the rooftop bar!). Thai massage was, well, it was painful and not exactly relaxing, but it was really really good. Mani-pedi, pool and relaxation was done at convenient time slots in between shopping and umbrella-drink sipping.

I'm allready excited about going back. Bangkok rocks!

Self inflicted pain

In Chinatown you can get a Chinese massage for the outstanding price of $50 for 60 minutes. Perfect!
If it wasn't for the pain caused.

Imagine a really small room in the middle of bustling Chinatown, and then place five plush armchairs (sitting comfortably during your foot reflexology is important), three back massage chairs, two bench-beds for full-body massage, and then a couple of flexible armchairs that can be turned into whatever you need them for. Fully booked this little SPA palace looks more like a wet market with a random mix of people piled up high and low wherever there is room.

Fully dressed and with a towel as a blanket I was placed on an improvised full body massage chair/table. Lowering my face down into that little hole I had to make a very conscious effort to breath only with my mouth. The chair/table smelled like hell and it didn't take long until I figured out why. The massage was seriously freaking painful. I was sweating stress- and anxiety hormones like crazy. It felt like I was the cattle next up in a butchery. Amazed by the masseur-uncle's ability just pinpoint the spots along my back that clearly were very unrelaxed, I was counting down the minutes doing breathing exercises to distract myself.

About 15 minutes into the massage the uncle politely asked "Mam', you pain?" I managed to squeal out a "yes, pain, pain-pain", underscoring that I was in a lot of pain. This was happily excepted with an "okay", and the massage went on. When I curled up backwards and almost fell of the bad because I was trying to balance out a finger that was poking my lower ribs out, the uncle laughed a little to himself and said something in Chinese that I can only assume was something like "wimp". They are supposed to be really good these deep, pressure point massages, and I did stick it out the entire hour.

Thankfully my massage was interrupted a number of times when people climbed over me to reach the washroom. I also had someone sitting down at my bed by my feet for a little while. And at some point my massage-uncle explained something that was happening along my spine by "drawing" and pointing at random places along my back and vividly discussing in Chinese with someone else.

Next time I'm doing a Swedish massage. For sure. Or maybe I should give it one more go... Maybe one gets used to the pain?

Hip hip HOORAY!

On April 23, 1988, my life got twice as good. I probably wasn't aware of it back then, but thing have become more and more clear as time goes by. My younger brother is the World's Best Brother!

My first and only sibling was supposed to arrive at the same time as the crocus that me and mum had planted when the baby was still baking inside the tummy. It was a great plan by my mother, with the exception that the flowers popped out way earlier than my brother, so in my view Filip was late. Turns out Filip was and still is a very relaxed person that likes to take his time.

I don't remember much of my brother as a baby, but once he learned how to move around a little and then later communicate it was starting to become fun. I took him out for walks on a leach (if you don't get a puppy you have to make due with what's available), introduced my dolls and stuffed animals to his action figures and stuffed animals, taught him how to make huts out of blankets and furniture as well as showed him how to bake chocolate balls. All of life's essentials.

In direct contrast to myself, Filip went straight from crawling to running. He was never ever ever still as a kid, and one of the most frequent phrases used was "Diddi also come along!" Diddi was Filip's own pronunciation of Filip, and it has sticked as a nick name. Turns out diddi actually means younger brother in Chinese, so in a way he was really ahead of his time. Filip also goes by the name of Filten, Filé, Fille, Janson, Pläden, Koalan and more.

Here in Asia, the most impressive thing about Filip is not his excellent poker skills ("owning" luck is serious shit in this part of the world) or his gastronomic interest (what Singaporean does not connect with another foodie?). Standing tall at just under 2 meters, he is about one head taller than me and I often get the question, "Wow, he's really tall, huh. How?" I'm not entirely sure if this is just a way to appreciate and give a compliment or if there is an honest question hidden in there, where the urge to be at least over 160cm takes over reason and when finding someone tall, you just have to ask - how did it happen.

Happy birthday Filip! Wish you were here and hope I get to see you soon!

Pre-work holiday in Bali

I have been to Bali twice. I'm not likely to go back.

There is nothing wrong with the little Australian Summer Paradise, it was just so darn dirty when I last visited. Kuta beach is know for surfing, hardcore haggling beach vendors and magic mushrooms. When I decided to spend a little vacation time in Indonesia, it was mainly my goal to get some surfing done that drove me to Bali. A mission that failed.

I land around 10pm, and take a cab to the hotel in Seminyak, the more upscale and quiet area just north of Kuta. Turns out it's new year's eve. Yes, once again it's a new year celebration. Bali does not follow the Western, Chinese or Persian calendar, they celebrates new year in March apparently. That meant that on my first day on vacation, it was strictly forbidden to leave the hotel compound. According to legend, the people of Bali scared the evil spirits away on new year's eve, and then hid themselves on the first day of the new year - tricking the evil spirits into thinking Bali was a deserted island. So on this day you are supposed to be still, quiet and not eat. Meditate and start the new year on a clean slate I guess. 

I spent half the day struggling with power adapters, computer dilemmas and lousy internet connection (sort of the opposite of meditation). The second half of the day I was happily sunbathing by the pool, making sure I did not miss last chance for food at 5.30 pm. TV was completely shut off this day and as it turned out most electricity as well. When the sun had set I went in to my villa and decided to read a book. Only a few pages into the story I get a call from the reception. 

"Sorry Miss, your room very bright, can you close the lights?"

"Yes, of course! Sorry, very sorry!"

"Thank you"

I switch off the lights. It was 7.30 pm and I went to bed.  

Next day we were all allowed outside and so I made full use of the opportunity and rented a car with a driver for the day. Cruising around the island we saw a volcano, a lake, many many temples, stopped for some sightseeing (art gallery and coffee that is) in Ubud, and checked out the impressive new-year statues and sculptures built out of papier-mache. These scary looking and often huge papier-mache monsters were made by the local boys and paraded through town on New Year's eve. 

According to a British guy that was traveling the world attending carnivals this particular event was entertaining but horribly bad organized. One could never be really sure of when those boys would be going around town, and therefor he had spent the entire day drinking bear looking at the street life that was now and then interrupted by a sporadic parade. He concluded that generally speaking the street life in Bali is not very exciting, the local bear taste better and better the more you drink and when locals say that something is local - it means it's local. 

Moving from Seminyak to Kuta for my last days on Bali I was hoping for some action. First stop: the beach. It took a long time and a minor sandstorm before I could successfully negotiate myself into a reasonable priced sunbed. Two garbage collecting trucks where going up and down the beach in a vain attempt to rid our sun-kissed view of cigarette buts, picnic left overs and other trash. So far so good. Minus the sandstorm. Then I hit the water. And then I get straight back up. I had plastic bags around my legs, empty bottles hitting my waist and all kinds of general shit floating around ALL OVER. It was like going for a swim in a sewage. Yuk. Bye-bye surfing plans.

Action is now instead sourced at night. Trying my luck, ehrm, at the pubs and disco's around town, I quickly realized why magic mushrooms are legal. You need them to survive the crappy nightlife. To be fair I am probably around ten years too old, alternatively 30 years too young, to fit the target audience of Bali-lovers. Well, it just wasn't a lot of fun. Plus the ice-cream places were not that good as well.

'Nuff said. Next holiday: New York. *fingers crossed* or maybe Thailand. 

Russians and Tarzan

On my second week at work, the company took me and most of the other people in our office, including the sales teams around South East Asia to Pattaya in Thailand. The plan was to host a product launch and a sales conference as well as enjoying an internal gala dinner and some teambuilding. My prior knowledge of what one can find in Pattaya was limited to strippers and drunken Scandinavians. So I found Pattaya to be an interesting choice of location for a company event.

Arriving in Pattaya I spent 98,5% of my time within the compound of the very nice hotel (busy organizing the different events), and it is therefor difficult to accurately comment on the availability of strippers and drunken Scandinavians. However we did drive through town on one occasion, and passing by some sort of hawker center (food center), I noticed that each table had a stripper pole, complete with a lady and all. In conclusion I think it is fare to say that the strippers are definitely easily available.

Drunken Scandinavian encounters was limited to a single meeting which surprisingly took place in my own hotel room. I had just got back to my room after a long, hard working day. Stepping out of my clothes and getting ready for bed I headed for the loo when a tipsy and haggard looking Scandinavian suddenly seams to come out of the bathroom at the same time as I try to go inside. I stop completely and immediately, thinking with a growing panic, that I have entered and got undressed in the wrong room! The other person, thankfully a girl, seem to be going though the exact same thought process and surprise. And so I realize the bathroom door is a full size mirror. The cleaning lady had closed the door, and in my weary state of mind I kind of missed the mirror and thought it was just another corner of the room.

Magic Howard entertaining at Gala Dinner

If Scandinavians were absent, that is the least one can say about Russians. Them pale maffiosos were all over the place. Most of them speaking to me, in Russian naturally, and when I say speak I mean having long conversations with me - completely ignoring my "I'm sorry, I'm not... I don't actually..." "Not Russian. No understand...." etc. They were also doing interesting lap-dances in the pool and staring each other down on the beach. Coming from Europe (trendy) and Asia (somewhat modest), I also found the Russian fashion display outstanding! Tackiness hit new levels and when seriously fat men in zebra striped, minimal, swimming trunks walked by, I had to intensively control my urge to snap a picture.

Highlight of the Pattaya trip was with no doubt Flight of the Gibbon. A zipline canopy tour through the jungle of Thailand. With 24 stations we zipped between trees high, high, and very very high up in the air. Twice we also zipped vertically straight down, which was more scary but cool. The last zipline was over 300 meters long and really nice, especially due to special effects by the windy weather. Interesting to notice was that even if the special sound effects mainly came from the younger female members, the general fear of heights and extended tree-hugging sessions at the different platforms mainly hit our older male members. Us inbetweeners, age-wise in between that is, happily throw ourselves out in the jungle roof with the same ease and graze as Tarzan & Jane.

IRL

As noted (?) I've been absent. Finding a new job and well, life in general I guess, sort of got in the way of my digital life and this blog. Apologies here and now to all the people in far away places that I've unintentionally disappeared on.

My new job is without doubt the most exciting thing that has happened. I've started working for a very cool american company, and I'm totally in that honeymoon period where extra hours feels like extra lovin'. My job scope is all about marketing communications and I'm equal parts terrified of not meeting expectations as I'm thrilled to do something I really like. Updates will follow.

So let's see, March was an active party month. Going single means going out, at least the needs&wants for it is much bigger. Checking out Singapore nightlife is indeed a fascinating experience, and there will be lots to talk about on this subject I'm sure. However the first thing that strikes me is the unavoidable feeling of living in a teeny tiny little bubble. How come everyone knows everyone when there are 5 million of us on the island?!? 

Actually the government has told the people that Singapore targets to be 6.9 million people by 2030. This has caused an outrage. How? HOw?! HOW?!?! Common comments include "The MRT (public transport) is already so crowded!" Where to live, housing be built in ocean or what?" "I tell you what will happen, us Singaporeans will be called Singaforeiners" (assuming that so many foreigners will be accepted that Singaporeans will be a minority in their own country). 

Around the same time of the outrage, a sinkhole appeared suddenly on Clementi Rd. A sinkhole is a deep hole that simply appears in the ground with no warning. This is a natural phenomenon  and the very circular holes can be big enough to swallow a house. The one in Clementi pushed a motorcyclist of his bike, but no one else was harmed. The local media Straits Time uploaded a picture of the thing and reading the comments was simply hilarious. A selected few:

- Sin.gap.ore

- Gahmen (government) solving the 6.9million issue?

- Road tax rebate NOW!!

- Hell needs a little air?

- Actually this situation is really dangerous, why was there no warning signs put up??

- Go into the hole and follow the tracks, probably end up in China. Materials and workmanship all from China mah. (here "made in China" is another way of saying "crap quality") ("mah" is just a way to enforce your statement)

Shall do my best to go back to the weekly updates!

Bite me

Generally speaking, teeth are hip. For this I have to thank Twilight, True Blod, Vampire Diaries and other phenomenal pop-culture productions that has put fangs (and teeth) in the spotlight of our attention. Teeth are getting bloody sexy.

My teeth are however constrained by my braces. When people ask me why I have this little steel harness in my mouth, I laugh and say "I didn't like the prospect of turning 30, so I u-turned back to 15". At the same time, I die a little on the inside. Not a lot, but a little. When people ask if it hurts, and I answer "it only hurts my ego", I'm telling the truth. Sort of. It does actually hurt physically, like hell at times, but pain is momentarily and victory (straight teeth) is forever (at least if I put in a permanent retainer).

Most of my friends are a little surprised by my wicked grin-bling, as they do not remember my teeth being crooked. This is most likely so, because one of my front teeth (the evil one, the one that was on the move) was hiding all the crookedness that was happening behind. But my dentist did gently inform me that the front tooth is indeed slowly moving outwards, and will eventually succeed. Unless I brace it. And so I did.

My dentist is great. He is a young man, most probably younger than me, but very nice and to my limited experience he does a great job. For example he has taken my very sharp nose into consideration when moving around my teeth and jaws. This aspect was first highlighted when I took x-ray images before pulling out two teeth and getting the rest straightened out. Dr Dentist showed me how my lips are not pushed out so much by my one obnoxious front tooth that my lips would be further out than my nose, seen on x-ray profile picture.

Silently I thought to myself, who has lips that pout further out than their nose, is that even possible? I tried to think of Angelina Jolie's profile but failed as I got caught up in giving her mental braces in cheerful colors  Thankfully I just had to glance around the dentist room to notice that the standard nose of any Asian person is small and flat, and quite frequently their lips pout out more than their nose, in profile. Neither good nor bad, as pointed out, my "very sharp nose" will make my "very thin lips" appear even smaller if the teeth are pulled back to much. And so Dr Dentist is fixing it to just the right angle. Taking my looks into great consideration while reshaping my mouth. Much to my appreciation.

So far this is what has happened:
1) X-ray and mold of my teeth done.
2) Pulled out two teeth from my upper jaw. Not painful, but something is actually pulled out from your skull, and that is indeed a strange sensation.
3) Braces fixed, and gets tightened every third week. The first time my braces was tightened it hurt like hell. Again, someone is messing around with your skull, and it is not a great feeling. My brain simply shut down, and I was half gone for a couple of hours until I came back to my body and took some pain killers. The subsequent visits have been much less painful.
4) Rubber bands are placed between upper and lower jaw to speed things up and move the desired teeth to the desired position. The nice and sweet rubber bands, the ones that does not hurt are called Raspberries. The rubberbands that pulls my jaws tightly and firmly together and cause some mild discomfort to put it nicely, are called Lemons.

Here I am now. I have small gaps here and there, and I cannot say certain sound clearly, like th, s and ch for example, but my lower jaw teeth look great, and I feel certain that my upper jaw teeth will soon follow. At my last appointment Dr Dentist said the wonderful words that it looks very good, soon it will all be done. As I had stuff in my mouth I couldn't press him for details on what "soon" means to him, so I will just cross my fingers and wish for maybe just another couple of months.

Then I shall eat spinach, knäckebröd (very hard Swedish bread), Indian food and everything else that I'm currently restricted from eating. Well, spinach is actually eatable now as well, I just have to do a whole lot of cleaning after the meal (it's not something I eat in public). And knäckebröd can be eaten with the right amounts of painkillers circulating my body. Indian food however is something I miss badly. It appears that everything I like from the Indian kitchen comes with the ability to stain nice white braces into neon yellow- shine in the dark- type of braces.

Living on the hope here. Soon, sometime soon, I will go back to being a normal adult. With straight teeth.

Love and other stuff

Valentine's Day. Not traditionally celebrated by myself, as I find the commercial aspect of the whole shebang to be a little disgusting. However I'm all up for celebrating love at any given time of the year. My cute local friends go wild at Valentine's - with flowers and balloons. I must say that my initial reaction to the Singaporean fascination for balloons, a reaction of complete disbelief, has given way to a sort of admiration for the ability to find joy in the little things in life. That was until I realized how expensive balloons are, and then I just went back to thinking "that's so weird".

As the break-up with Hubby is going along more smoothly than I thought was humanly possible, I tend to get into a lot of interesting discussion with friends on the topic of love. People are impressed with our genuine love for each other, a love that is still there, and will most likely stay. We trust and respect each other completely, and are now helping one another out with dating advice and general life coaching. Then there is the other side, that question my need to "throw away" or "risk everything" by letting go and leaving behind a good relationship that never went bad, it just didn't feel right. Honestly, there is no right answer here. It does take a lot of courage, and it sure as hell is not an easy way to go, that's for sure. There is no way of knowing what the future holds, yet I do think this break will make us both stronger, no matter how our stories end.



Back to love and stuff. Generally speaking we all agree that the fluffy pink version of love sold by Hollywood rom-coms is really way too artificial and any idiot could see that in REAL life, it's a whole different story.  But then the conversation goes on, and questions very similar to those asked in these popular movies arise. Is it really possible to have everything in a relationship (an emotional, sexual, intellectual and spiritual connection)? What is a perfect relationship? When does a compromise become a sacrifice? How many soul mates can we have - and do we really have to look for them so desperately?

The BBC has an interesting article on how we have hyped up love into something completely unattainable here.
And Dr Frederick has scientifically proved it, and is also showing how finding love in the little things in life, rather than the white knight on a shiny horse (yeah, you get it), can help us all realize that love actually is all around. Read all about it here.  

Welcoming the Water Snake

Once again it is a new year and gong xi gong xi gong xi gong xi is on repeat everywhere all the time. Don't know what I'm talking about, or just want to read this post with a wicked soundtrack; check out a very catchy version on YouTube.

So what is the Chinese New Year (CNY) all about? Well, in Singapore you get a few days off to go around seeing your relatives and throw fish in the air to ensure a prosperous future. Oranges are being exchanged high and low, children are getting rich on Red Letters, love letters are being eaten and all the Ang Moh's get seriously pissed off that there are no cabs around. To find out more, check Wiki, there is indeed a lot to learn about the CNY.

As I myself is born in the year of the Dog, according to the Chinese astrology, us dogs are happy that we are finally entering the year of the Snake, leaving the Dragon behind us. Apparently this coming year will bring me great career opportunities and new romance. As I am both jobless and without partner, I get a feeling they might be on to something these astrology people.

More importantly I just discovered that even though I am born in the year of the Dog, it does not mean I am a dog. Ha! I have been a little upset about my zodiac animal, feeling that being kept on a leach and getting excited about balls is not really who I truly am. Now however I have discovered that the "Lucky Element" tells you what animal you really are, according to when you are born, gender, etc. You can give it a try here. I did, and found out I'm a White Metal Tiger. Hell yeah!! Feeling empowered already.

Staying away at home

Friends living in the condo where we used to live are currently exploring the cold weather in far away places, and so now I have got a whole apartment to myself, whilst babysitting plants and checking in on the letter box. The flat is identical to the one we used to live in, even on the same floor, only facing slightly different view as it is located in another block. So it sort of feels like home, just different interior.

The plan was to enjoy some alone time and the condo facilities. So far that has not really worked out too well. Yesterday I went down to the condo gym to do a little running on the treadmill. The small room smells like hell, it was hot like an oven and I realized the treadmill has definitely seen better days. So no more condo gym, sticking to the one I paid for, enjoying the fresh cool air, abundance of workout options and helpful staff. And today it's raining, so who needs a pool.

Good stuff in CondoHome is the view and the breeze that the 27th floor offers. Especially post-rain breeze is freakishly good. I also enjoy running into neighbors that I am friends with instead of the Bangla-workers and mainland Chinese people that I bump into going up and down the stairs at WalkUpApartmentHome. The elevator is absolutely a plus for CondoHome tough. And the kitchen. I just stocked up with lots and lots of frozen pizza. Having an oven rocks!

The alone time however is really crappy. Well, naturally it is nice at times, I kind of enjoy being on my own. But I think being alone takes some getting used to, and I'm just not used to it at all. I sort of get the feeling that most things in life were made for two. Like having breakfast, complaining about the weather, drinking wine, etc. Things that are awesome for one person is reading a book, look for a job and I guess getting to know oneself. None of which I'm currently interested in doing. I'm happy I have the blog and can ramble on and actually feel both alone and not alone at the same time. Like being at home, yet away. If anyone got the hint I'll be all kinds of free for another week plus. :)

Gratefulness

Grateful = Feeling or showing an appreciation of kindness; thankful. (thankful - appreciative - beholden). 

As mentioned before my January theme is Grateful. The theme was up for a challenging start. In early January I did not feel grateful at all. I am relatively certain I was not alone in this feeling as Januray is one of the suckiest months, especially in Sweden. We are all broke, pale, have our fingers recently blown off by firecrackers and there is approximately another six months until we can step outside - some days - not wearing a jacket. 

Anyhow, I'm in Singapore right. Grateful to me, has an element of guilt, or a "must" or some sort of reciprocate obligation attached to it. You have to either do something good, or be at the mercy of someone else's grandness in order to be thankful, or grateful. Or you have to be religious.

By mid-January I realised that I could not seriously think I was completely ungrateful, so I started thinking about little things. Like how I'm kind of grateful for the balcony, especially on a cool yet sunny day. Okay, first of all, the entire look and feel of the balcony is 100% hard work and lots of money. The wooden floor is not only surprisingly costly it was also heavy as h#ll to carry up all the stairs. Not to mention all the plants we bought and with blood sweat and (allergy infused) tears carried up to the little rooftop palace. Then it takes a daily watering of the plants and regular maintenance of the wooden floor to keep the whole concept alive. And though sunny days are common in Singapore, cool and sunny is not that common. 

So when I was lying on the balcony floor, sunbathing, reading a book and casually pondering upon if I was able to feel grateful, I decided I am grateful for the balcony. I am also grateful that it is possible to sunbath on the balcony without being seen. *Knock on wooden floor*, since that statement is only true if the neighbors stay on their side not peeping through the cracks of the separating wall.  

Now, by the end of the month, I have decided I am grateful for a whole bunch of things that is beyond my control. A few examples:

- That ice cream was invented and is being popularly developed and sold all over the world.

- That Singapore allows foreigners to come live and work on this tiny little island.

- That there are an abundance of options, in today's globalised and tech-driven world, for me to stay in touch with my family and friends, when the traditional face-to-face is not possible.

So all in all, I think I can comfortably say that I do feel grateful at times. And I feel really happy about a gazillion things in life, so maybe grateful is just another way of being happy. Like happiness defined by an action or a cause. Because sometimes I just feel really happy. Like if I see a puppy. I would never say I'm grateful for seeing a puppy. But it makes me happy, and then maybe I'm grateful that I'm easily pleased, and have the ability to see the litle things in life with a smile on my face and a bubbly feeling in my chest.

Not entirely sure what the February theme will be, but there's a few more days to think that over. Hereby sending some sunshine to all my wonderful friends and family in Sweden, I know it's a little horrible right now, but at least it's going in the right direction right, eventually the sun shall return. And aren't we all grateful for that. :)

Peace! 

Apples instead of lesbians

Fringe festival part 2. I go see a dance act called Xtra Large from Belgium. The dance caught my attention as I thought it was about being a fat teenage lesbian with a passion for life. As the show started it became clear the three dancers in fat suits had no lesbian aspirations whatsoever. It was more about apples.

A Chinese girl, a Chinese boy, an 'other' girl and lots of apples. The music was really good, and the one hour long dance act was good. The person next to me (not my friend) whispered OMG three times in a very high pitched excitement. First time when the guy pulled down the zipper of the clothes he was wearing on top of the fat suit, to reveal, yes you guessed it, an apple. Second time was when Chinese boy and girl balanced each other on the corner of a table. Lastly the most excited Oooooh my God came when the dancers stepped out of their fat suits to freely roam around the stage, loving each other and all the apples. 

I have to say the lovemaking was not very creative though. First both the two girls try to seduce the boy by rubbing apple against themselves. Finally the Other girl wins the boy over by playing some sort of catch me if you can goes "No you can't have my apple. Yes you can. No you can't". Oh Lord my inner warrior got pissed off at the stupidity of letting kids see a play where the boy is firstly hypnotized by the girls acting sexy, followed by a complete inability to actually pick one of them, he just drools and follow whoever pulls him forward, and then finally the girl who does no-yes-no-yes until her friend is securely thrown out of the competition, gets the boy and have sex with him. I mean what's the moral in that? Fat kids are just as stupid as the rest of us?  

Anyhow. The lovemaking dance was passionately performed by the Chinese boy and the Other girl to some sort of tango or flamenco sounding music. The Chinese girl gets very jealous and angrily stomps around smashing apples. Later she also gets a shot at "sharing her apple" with the boy (I know, he is one lucky apple boy). But instead of twirling around biting on the same apple and feeling each other up, the Chinese girl simply takes off her clothes and sits down. The boy shyly takes off his clothes as well and sit down next to her. Then they call out body parts. Nooooose. Kneeeeeee, Teee-Teee (boy points in between his legs) and Titty! (girl points at her breast)  - followed by heartfelt laughter from the younger audience. Then the girl stands on top of the guy's feet and they balance at the end of the table. Followed by some sort of dance where they are not really touching each other, it's more a moving across the table quite similar to how kids that barely know how to walk interact with each other when there are a shiny toy around (or in this case, an apple). I really don't want to have sex with an Asian after seeing that, at least not a Belgian Asian. 

Other thoughts that popped up during the apple filled hour:

- What if the best dancers were allergic against apples, like me. Could they change the apples to lets say donuts?  

- Being fat means one have to make larger movements while dancing, it's simply put more difficult (the fat suit thing was really good, and the dancers were really very talented).

- How hard does one have to throw an apple to the floor in order to make it splash?

- Big is beautiful. The word fat is in my mind equal to fluffy, and that makes me smile. Thank you Gabriel Iglesas. 

- I think it's possible to make something similar to apple pie in a frying pan. Must google. 

- What if they weren't supposed to have dropped the apple? It happened a couple of times, but it looked natural and fitted the choreography. Then again, it's not like they could snap out of character, pick up the apple and continue. 

- To me an apple is green by default. Google apple however, and in addition the Apple logo, most apples are red. 

- Not to self. No more fringe.