Pain, Blood and Holes

Never have I thought this day would come - especially at this age. The appointment was at 3:45. The clinic is situated at a well-known "high-class" medical centre. The building's exterior is white and has a clean, disinfected feel. The clinic, albeit "atas-ish", is owned by a doctor who is loud, outspoken and oblivious to his not-so-good sense of humour.

Stress and anxiety were written all over my face as the nurse and doctors attended to me. But very determined was I, to get it over and done with; and never to return to the clinic. Local anesthetic numbed the designated areas - I couldn't feel a thing and had a hard time keeping my saliva in. 10 minutes after the effects had set in, the doctor began working on me with his tools. The nurse handed him tool after tool at his command; while he twigged, twisted and pulled out the 3 marked teeth. Throughout the entire process, there was no pain. You could only feel the pressure on your gums; hear the sound of the steel gear against your teeth and occasionally the sound of your tooth cracking (almost) under the pressure of his tong-like equipment.

30 to 40 minutes later, it was all done. I was left with numbed gums, bloody mouth, dripping saliva, an unsightly smile with holes here and there, and an inability to enunciate properly. So, straight into the cab I went; and home I headed. Good thing I could still eat. Not such a spoilsport after all.

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A Baby Step Closer

Another visit to Dr Cheng today and off came the separators that had me in much agonising pain the entire past week. In place of the separators now are these metal bands. They may feel weird in my mouth but at least they left me in no pain, just slight discomfort. First thing I ate the moment I got home was my choc chip cookies! =) 

Porridge with marmite, oats, blended fruit juices (milkshakes, if lucky), and watery soup that lacks chunks of meat or vegetables didn't make good dinners the last 7 days. I am going to stuff myself silly (with lots more goodies) till my next appointment - that is, if extraction this Thursday is not going to be a spoilsport. *Fingers crossed*

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Life's a Jar of Chocolate Chip Cookies

Sunday was no typical lazy Sunday. It was spent with Mum at Ikea and Courts, while Dad played mahjong in leisurely fashion with Nene and the rest. A rewarding Sunday it was though. And a car-load of prized possessions at the end of the day. My beloved oven topped the list.

Life with the small toaster oven in our kitchen had been disappointing. To say it was hell would be too harsh but it was definitely not close to heaven. 

I wasted no time in baking my first

"true" batch of chocolate chip cookies

in the real thing.

This jar of freshly-baked home-made cookies now sits on the kitchen top. An instant gratification anytime for anyone who wishes. 

If only life is really a jar of chocolate chip cookies - always sweet, flavourful and simply satisfying. =)

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Dreams...

Do they occur when we have too much to think during the day? If so, I must have been thinking too much the past few days.

Does what you think about during the day shape the dreams you have in your slumber? If so, I can't see where my dreams came from. For they mostly have no correlation with the thoughts and happenings of the day. Unless, subconsciously, I have been thinking.

The morning-afters are often surreal. You sit up in bed, still reverberating from the dream you just had. Your mind still re-enacting the unforgettable scenes. And you felt like you were reliving those moments again. Those very moments you badly wish to white out and never face a second time. 

Going to bed has become a dreadful parcel of the day. For you wish not to be haunted by those moments all over again when you wake.

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Rebirth

What's in a name? "Denise", as many of you affectionately know me by, was given to me by a random stranger more than a decade back. Never have I thought I would be using this name till this very day. 

Yeye was the one who gave me my Chinese name. My parents, a conventional lot and both Chinese-educated, would not have given me an English name even if they wanted to. No one seemed to know the meaning of my name. I often ask Mum and all she ever gave was a shrug of her shoulder and a blank look. Dad tried harder but could never give me a satisfactory answer. I finally figured and accepted down the road that my name bears no significance or special meaning. Did yeye simply randomly choose my name? I seriously wonder sometimes. And I wished I had asked him when he was around.

But don't belittle my name "Siow Wei". There is a Chinese song titled after it, which was once very popular and could be heard day-in day-out on radio stations and television programmes. Even my Dad could sing it and would do so at times during KTV sessions. Although every time I hear him do that, I shudder.

"Denise" has been my loyal follower for a good half of my life. It was time to make "Denise" official and give her a proper status. So I did. When I walked out of the lawyer's office this arvo, I had with me a deed poll and my new name - Chin Siow Wei, Denise. I felt like a newborn. I held the deed poll in my hand like it was my second birth certificate.

Today marks a new beginning for me in ways more than one. The separators in-between my teeth are indeed an annoyance, just like the doctor said. But they are just the beginning of further annoyances to come in the next 18 months.

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The Young Ones

Thursday was an important day for Hui - her convocation symbolised not only her freedom but also her time to grow up. The babe of the family, being the youngest, has always been a spoilt one. And even at a ripe age of 26 (or coming of this year) and as a bride-to-be, she is still very much treated like a little girl by all of us. Maybe because she still behaves like one at times.

Mum and Dad were proud parents that day. Looking at Hui in her robe and square hat, I am sure they must have been filled with immense joy and pride. I knew how I felt. I had been through that almost 7 or 8 years ago. As I remained seated in the hall where the ceremony was taking place, I saw the energy, vibrance, hope and big dreams in the young ones. My face must have exhibited the same tales on the day of my very own convocation. I remembered only Mum and Dad were around on mine.

Those were the days when we were still young and innocent and had big dreams about the future. Anyone who has yet to be subjected to the brutal reality of the corporate world and ladder climbing is entitled to do so. I was the happiest then - my outlook on life was still simple.

Hui was most definitely glad she's finally done with school - just because she hated it with a passion. And Accountancy and Finance are not exactly her cup of tea or forte - I wonder how much her BSc meant to her. I asked her what her dreams are, now that she has become part of the professional pack. She replied she had none. All this lil' sis of mine can think of is to be a good wife and mother and to remain at the lowest rank of the hierarchy at work. Career seemed to have no standing in her dreams or future plans. Maybe not just yet - I don't know.

I wonder what the young ones would be like. How they would turn out to be. Would they be like my generation - forever pursuing career, power, status and money - because of peer pressure and influences from our family? Or would they be less easily manipulated and instead pursue their passion or dreams and what they really believe in? I hope my young ones are the latter. And only time will tell.

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Hakka Baby: Part II

Mum wanted me to give Hakka Niang Tau Foo a second go but this time round with baby bittergourd. So I obliged. Preparation and cooking started at quarter past 3 in the arvo and ended way past five in the evening - complete exhaustion.

Everyone was pleasantly surprised by the output. Even Dad gave his nod of approval too. =)

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Proud to be Hakka

The beginning of my quest to discover my roots starts with learning how to make Hakka cuisine from Mum. The first item on the menu is Hakka Niang Tau Foo.

The preparation: Sure looks well stuffed, don't they?

 

Cooking: Was the hardest part as the oil splitters and splatters all over! =(

   

Ready to eat: Yummy for a greenhorn! =)

  

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Practice Makes Perfect!

A phrase I used to repeat to myself as I spent hours solving Mathematical problems in school. There is no magic formula when it comes to Math - the more you practice, the better you get. Of course, a firm grasp of the concepts is also essential. I used to practise over and over again to the point I could remember the next question in the "10-Years Series". In my mind, there would be a photographic image of the next page even.

Bearing this in mind, I decided to attempt "Pick Me Up!" for the second time. This time round, I halved my ingredients and stopped by Cold Storage to get the Marsala wine for an authentic Italian recipe. I also brought out the electric mixer my mum stowed away in the kitchen cabinets - hoping it would aid me in creating the effect I much needed. I think it did =) (although it looked weird in a bowl like this - mum has such a lack of baking utensils.)

Mummy was the first to try my tiramisu. She liked it and said it tasted better the second time round. But when I had a taste, I was rather disappointed - it was too dry. I wonder what the remaining critics would say when they try a slice later tonight.

I suppose third time's a charm then. So I've got another chance! =)

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Ready to be Touched

It sure feels good to be touched in all the right places, doesn't it? =)

Gerry was generous and kind enough to treat me to a pampering session today. Been a long time since I had a spa treatment. The venue was Lifespa at Purvis Street. My body was in dire need of a chocolate scrub and soothing massage all over. Through narrow corridors and a staircase to the second floor, the place has a zen-like decor. I was in their good hands for nearly 2 hours (although the last 15 minutes was more painful than relaxing as the lady massaged my head with such force I thought she might be trying to pull my hair out).

Purvis Street is a short, narrow street with shops on either side. It has no lack of good restaurants and modern interior decor shops that only the rich could afford. For us (or particularly, the unemployed me), lunch was cheap delicious chicken rice at Yet Con - the place I brought LH to when he last visited me. Except I don't think the old uncle (who so reminds me of yeye) at the cashier liked us very much.

The plan was to check out the flea market nearby after lunch. But the sun was blazing. We took a detour instead and drove past the market for an obligatory look-see. At the corner of Waterloo Street and Middle Road, we spotted the market. It was small and did not have much crowd albeit being organised for a worthy cause. Maybe ebay is my best option after all. 

We spent the rest of the Saturday afternoon enjoying a cuppa and some good reads at Starbucks before parting ways.

I reached Yishun around quarter to 5. Along the familiar underpass that links the train station and the neighbourhood's only shopping complex was the familiar, always-there blind man who sings along with his guitar and other musical gadgets, for a living. 

When I reached the underpass today, there was no singing or music coming from his gear. Instead, I heard a soft "Excuse me, can someone please help me?". 

Nobody stopped. I was almost ready to do that when I heard his plea the second time and stopped. I walked closer to him and offered my assistance. It turned out he needed to visit the bathroom and was hoping I could help mind his belongings in the meantime. Of course I could.

As I watched him remove the bells and gadgets from his ankles and wrists, I felt a pang of sadness. He took a good 10 to 15 minutes to get ready as he fumbled around in the 'dark'. It is very unfortunate that he couldn't see. How we take for granted the littlest things we have in life is really shameful.

While he was gone, I stood by his gear with much awkwardness. Passer-bys looked at me with utmost astonishment. Did they expect me to sing or perform? Was someone going to jump out from nowhere shouting "you're on candid camera!"? Nothing of that sort happened. In fact, nothing happened. Except for the weird stares I received from all who walked past, no one dropped a coin or two while I was standing there. I was hoping someone would. =(

The blind man eventually returned. From a bit of a distance away, he was calling out for me. I shuffled quickly up next to him and guided him back to his spot. He was filled with gratitude and full of thanks.

Actually, I should be the one saying "thank you" for he has really made my day.

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Good Friday

Another week has passed. Hectic and a headache, it was. A flurry of phone calls, preparations and interviews, it also was. I suppose that is a good sign and I shouldn't complain. But such is human nature - forever discontented and complaining. If I could hear some awesome news after Easter, I swear not to complain for a good one month.

Good Friday is here again. Memories flood my mind. Down in Bilbul, I wonder what you are doing. Was I on your mind during your hours-long drive? Does it feel the same without me by your side? What is everyone else doing? Is my presence missed? 

I thought of Adam - him waking us up early Easter morning to hunt for his Easter eggs. I miss his smile, the sparkle in his eyes and him calling my name. But I couldn't miss you calling mine more on this good Friday.

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Lazy Sunday, It Is Not!

The annual dog walk I intended to participate with Dusty early Sunday morning did not eventualise. Because his lazy owner continued to snore away in bed after ignoring the alarms she set the night before. Shame on moi! =( I apologised to Dusty profusely at around 11 am when I finally pulled myself out of bed. No point crying over spilt milk, we would take part in next year's one.

But another exciting event was designed to take place at our 4-room HDB apartment in Yishun today. This Fengshui master, recommended by my brother-in-law-to-be, paid us a visit to offer some much-appreciated tips and advice. Most of us had excitement written all over face as we podded around the Fengshui master and took in his words with utmost attentiveness. Even Jia, the coolest member of the family, eventually succumbed to her own curiosity and emerged from the bedroom to join in the hype.

The master walked from room to room, with his compass-like device, and pointed out 'good' directions, 'bad' directions, positions of furniture, windows to be opened or closed etc. I scribbled my notes like I would at the lecture hall in the university. It was so exciting. Change, especially if for the better, makes you look forward to a new beginning and more good things to come. That was how I felt as I followed the master around our house.

Fengshui done, he proceeded to explain to each of us our outlook for the year. It all sounded pretty promising for everyone - but then again, would he really have told us anything bad? We would never know. Once you start asking, you can't seem to stop. Once you know something, you want to find out more and in greater details. Because that was exactly what happened in the Chin family. We left our names and more questions with the Fengshui master, intending to derive more answers the next time he returns. I have been designated as the point of contact. Mum said, "You're the most free amongst us!" What more can I say?

After the master left, all of us discussed what to do next following the tips given by the master. We wanted to immediately put into place the changes he suggested.

In the background was Dusty, running up and down the hall, in and out of bedrooms and rubbing his face agitatedly against any floor rugs or even the walls. Picture a mad dog basically.

After we pinned him down, we noticed that his eyes

and mouth area were very red and swollen. I was scared. He must have been bitten by something. 

Or worse still, he has eaten 

something poisonous. At one point, Jia even mentioned that his tongue appeared to have turned slightly purple. When I heard that, I swore my heart stopped a beat. Panic and immense fear sank in. I called the vet frantically, got changed and had Daddy turn around immediately to drive us to the nearest clinic. Dusty is the most precious thing in my life and I cannot imagine losing it.

On the way to the vet, I was holding back my tears in the car. Dusty was on my lap and his eyes were getting redder and puffier by the minute. His eyelids were also getting heavy and he looked like he was drifting off into sleep (except I wasn't sure if that would be sleep or not). I shook him, talked to him and held on to him tightly as I was afraid to let go. We were the first at the clinic when it opened for the afternoon session. The bell for my turn rang and I hurried into the vet's room. As I explained to her Dusty's condition in a worried manner, she listened on and glanced at Dusty a couple of times with an indifference. I was annoyed. Dusty would never be as precious to another like he is to me. I made a mental note to 'dismiss' this vet and search for another.

An injection later, Dusty looked so much better. The redness and swollen-ness were gone. His face is now more or less back to normal although it is still a little puffy around the cheeks. I could finally heave a sigh of relief.

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Saturday Night Live

I had no plans today initially. If Clifford hadn't asked me out impromptu, I would have spent yet another Saturday warming the couch in the living room in front of the TV. 

Cliff was the only other person besides Yang and Gerry whom I have met (or am willing to meet) since I returned to Singapore. But today was our first meeting. No one else knows I am back. And I wasn't ready to meet the rest. Good thing he didn't know much, so there were not many questions about you. He must not have checked my Facebook profile yet to realise what has happened.

We arranged to meet at City Hall. He needed to run some errands for his 'friend'. Usually in such cases, the 'friend' is more likely than not, a female, which immediately reminded me of LH who always seem to have an endless supply of female friends. They pop out one after another on separate occasions like popcorns! But lovely friends, they always are.

Errands completed and 'friend' sent off, we proceeded to dinner at the well-known Muthu's Curry - fish head curry and lamb chops. Food combined with chatter and laughter are so therapeutic. We were at Muthu's for nearly 2 hours. Cliff was chomping his food ever so slowly. I was done within the first half hour to 45 minutes. He was still chomping away halfway through the second hour. And, I have never met another guy who talks as much as he does! He seemed to have plenty to talk about and also a mountain of information when it comes to fish head.

Strange as it may sound, he talked about fish head with a passion and in such details you wonder if he is actually a fisherman rather than the accountant he says he is. But he told me, "Mauritians like their fish heads". Kudos to him, I found out today that fish have brains!! Never had it crossed my mind that a fish would have brain. It felt like such a bimbo-tic moment then, especially as I watched in awe his demonstration of removing the brain from the fish head. The brain looked more like miniature testicles to me. I was not game enough to give it a try. So he sucked it all up.

The night wouldn't be complete without drinks after dinner. We stopped by Harry's and continued our (or more accurately, his) chatter. Slowly through the night at Harry's, I began to wonder when was the last time Cliff had a drink. Because his volume was reaching a level bordering embarrassingly loud. This became even more apparent on the train on our way back where everyone kept their voice down while Cliff continued talking and laughing out loud at his own jokes. He sure looked like he was having a ball of a time. I sure had a ball of a time too, except that I buried my head in my hands a few times out of embarrassment at my jubilant companion.

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Friday, I'm In Love

"A new month, a new beginning", I told myself that on April Fool's Day.

March had been like a roller-coaster ride, except it seemed to be falling more often and even quicker than picking up. Emotions and thoughts were aplenty - but useless and waste of time, they were. How did I allow myself to be so affected by those pointless recollections and lose track of the more important things before my eyes? I wished I hadn't. "Focus", I kept telling myself. But the more I tell myself that, the harder it is to adhere. The heart overruled all things rational.

I'm sorry I bitched last night. I had to. I needed to wallow in some self-pity and induce some level of anger. She lent a listening ear, while I let my tears flow. Alcohol and food followed. For those few hours at Timbre Arts House, much was forgotten. I woke up with a hangover this morning. Fun the night before had a slight bitter aftertaste.

My zodiac said today's supposed to be a pretty good day for me in terms of work and love. I wonder how that is going to materialise in my case considering I have neither. Nevertheless, I have a good feeling about the day. Tis' good is Friday, isn't it?

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