Confessions of a Drama Mama

Last week I had lunch at a Japanese restaurant with my mum. I think it was called Beppu Beppu at Suntec City. I had a toriage chicken ramen and almost to the end, I found a strand of black hair embedded in my chicken. Which means it couldn’t have fallen from my head or anyone else’s and landed in the soup while I was eating it.

I told the waitress and she insisted it wasn’t hair. My mother thought she said it was from a brush that was used to scrub the chicken (my mother’s chinese is as bad as mine). She wanted to give us a new bowl but I was already so disgusted. We asked to see it again just so I could take a picture to send to STOMP or something because I was so pissed that I was doubted. But of course, they had already thrown it away.

But the manager came by and we explained the situation. Even though there was no physical proof, immediately she said ‘Whatever it was that was in your soup, it was our fault that happened’. And we got a 15% discount.

We were impressed. It’s not so much the discount but the principle of it.

Today at Dian Xiao Er at Vivo, Max and I had a few dishes and in the szechuan veg soup (which was good) was a piece of plastic, maybe about 1cm by 1cm. Twice in the same week, what were the chances! But I took a picture of it, just in case. But the waiter apologised quickly and brought us a new bowl.

When we paid, I mentioned it again to the cashier and she apologised as well and removed the soup from our bill. So we didn’t pay for the soup but got 1.5 bowls of free soup.

I’m really beginning to have my faith restored in "the customer is always right", and it’s nice to be a customer. Moral of the story, don’t be afraid to state the facts. If there’s something in your food, or if you’re not satisfied with it for real reasons, tell the staff. You’ll probably get a discount. Of course, not just to be cheapo, but because you paid for a good meal, and that’s what you deserve.

Old joke. Where do hamsters come from? Hamsterdam.

But seriously, I always thought hamsters’ natural habitat was the pet shop.

So I will leave on Saturday night for 2 week course in Holland. Quite looking forward to it actually. Not that I am looking forward to two weeks away from Max (even though I know he’s looking forward to 2 weeks of absolute nag-free bliss), but it’s a nice opportunity for me to relive my school days.

I’ve always found that the least useful courses were those conducted in the office itself. Cos that’s where you’re always distracted and you’ll find yourself back at your desk during every break answering just one more phone call or replying to just another email. I’ve always preferred external courses and I guess I can’t get further away than this

So, see you in 2 weeks!

What la, all you tee ko peks out there. I`m talking about pushing your own limits la.

On Sunday Juliah and I went for the annual Shape Run. Organised by … guess who…. Shape mag. Actually we signed up months ago but hardly trained for it. I know I didn`t. Juliah at least jogged sometimes until her backache came back again. I went for alot of gym classes but those hardly contributed against building up my stamina.

The bloody thing started at 7 or something (yes, in the MORNING) and we had to be there at 6.45 to warm up. Juliah got up at 4am. Too excited. Plase. And when she came to pick me up, my contact lens got lost. Maybe in my eye, maybe not. I hate maybes. Life should just be about yes or not,  black or white, left or right. If its not in my eye, at least I know I can put on another one. If it`s in my eye then at least I know I have to be worried if it`s getting lost.

Anyway for those of you who`ve had this before, you`ll know that the lens will ultimately turn up right… So I winked my way all the way downstairs and to the Esplanade. Finally decided to pop another one in my eye when it didn`t show up before the race started. Winking all the way for 5km, I think I couldn`t have done it. Wait parallax error then I run senget into the longkang how

Speaking of which, 5km doesn`t sound like a lot. I know there are some of you out there who are saying Àiyah 5km only, talk so big, very short what the distance`. Sure, sure. You`re very great. You go and run it la. Not walk hor. As in legs must move fast fast kind ok. In the bloody morning, on the road. Without training much. If you are a regular jogger then dont say la.

Route:

Man, even before the 1km mark, I felt I was dying. Thoughts of `WHY THE BLOODY HELL DID I SIGN UP FOR THIS`were all around. Didnt I have anything else better to do on a Sunday morning. Like SLEEP maybe. My legs felt like iron (they should have given us Gatorate. You know the advertisement or not) and half my brain kept saying òk la, walk a bit la, take a rest la`, the other half kept saying `just a bit more, you can do it`.

Unfortunately the devil in me was stronger (surprise surprise) and I had many walk breaks. And I kept wondering how come everyone around me was jogging. But Juliah says she always saw me running also. Perception I guess.

I realised what I learnt in school for 2.4km runs still worked: Give yourself targets. When you want to take a walk break, tell yourself ÒK, after that tree`, and give yourself another goal like `start running again after that lamppost`. Try to start walking AFTER your intended target and start jogging again BEFORE your intended target.

When it`s just you and the road (and maybe your MP3), you gotta push yourself cos there wont be anyone else doing it for you. Sure there may be cheerleaders screaming `YOU CAN DO IT! ONLY 2KM left!!!, or fellow runners that touch your elbow and give you words of encouragement`, but ultimately it`s your brain telling your legs that they can go another step further. And another, and another until the finish line.

So for those of you who think you are in shape, I urge you to sign up for a run like this. It will truly be a humbling experience.

FINISH!!!

A friend and I were talking about marriage yesterday. She’s 27, been with her boyfriend for about 2 years, and I think he’s brought the topic up, and she’s avoided it. She’s a really really nice girl, and I quite like him too. Not THAT kind of way ok? As a person. I think he’s good for her, and good to her.

But she’s really afraid of the big M. We talked about rising divorce rates and how scary that is. I remember thinking about the same thing too. Especially since out of all the friends and family I know on Max’s side, there is only one couple that has stayed married for a long time. Most are either 1. divorced, 2. separated, 3. living together but not married.

But hey, to each his own and one shouldn’t judge. I’m just saying that it freaked me out because marriage to me is a one way street and divorce should not be an option. It just seemed to me that Max came from a different background, where marriage is not given enough emphasis.

I shared with her that I felt the same way before I got married. Scared, uncertain, apprehensive. You know you love someone at this point in time but forever is a big word. And marriage vows are really strong if you think about it. "In sickness and in health, till death do us part".

I told that if she’s aware of the soaring divorce rates, then maybe all the more that would make her work at her future marriage to keep it going. She says it’s the opposite - she’ll keep thinking about the what-ifs until it comes true.

And that got ME thinking.

How much of our life do I spend thinking about what-ifs. How much of my life am I missing out on, just because of this fear of the unknown. And strangely, this fear that my friend has shared with me, has shed some light on my current situation - to take or not to take a new portfolio, one that is rather unfamiliar to me, one that I have never tried, and give up something that I am very comfortable with but have done for 3 years.

I’ve figured that we will never know what the future holds and it’s out of our hands anyway so we sometimes we have to really seize the day and live life without worrying about the next step. I’m not saying be reckless. I’m saying give your life a chance.

And, though it is rather uncharacteristic of me, I share with you one of my favourite bible phrases. I liked it from many many years ago and then forgot totally about it until today.

"So do not worry about tomorrow; it will have enough worries of its own. There is no need to add to the troubles each day brings."

Matthew 6:34

So yes, I will accept this new job responsibility, and take the opportunity to learn because staying in one’s comfort zone for too long can be unhealthy.

We just had our dinner and dance last night. Actually it was split up into 2 nights so we didn’t have to be inconsiderate and inconvenience Singaporeans who want to shop by closing our stores just so we could treat ourselves to a little party.

So, 2 nights, and our department went and served our time last night. Referring to my previous entry, I was complaining about not being able to wear my policeman outfit, right? Turned out that the outfits "my significant colleague" wanted us all to wear, were not easy to find. So we ended up wearing our own stuff, and I was the policeman I always wanted to be.

So in the end, the department went as a group of indian men from the 60s. My boss went as a Bollywood film director, complete with sideburns, black leather pants and a fake stomach. Damn funny. We also had the guni man, the schoolboy and the rock star wannabe.

Oh ya, the entry is titled, "FUN". I’m getting to it.

So I had fun. I had fun blowing my whistle and sneaking up to groups saying "What you doing, what you doing? Is this an illegal gathering?" and waving my baton at them. If anyone tried to be funny (like someone kept coming up to me and saying "Eh handcuff me leh"), I would take out my notepad and say "What’s your name? You go to jail!" and give them a Monopoly "Go to Jail" card. The indian accent was really fun to do. You all know how much I love to do it

I laughed so hard when pulling my khaki socks up to almost my knees. And really tried my best to keep a straight face (must get into character mah) when answering "I am Singh. Babu Singh. But you call me Inspector Singh" when people said "Who are you? Are you Adora?" (the face paint was really good!). I even have the nametag OK. Insp Singh.

Well the key to the handcuffs broke, and I won’t be able to use them again (sorry, Max), but I did have fun that night.

So my point about having fun…. I think you can only have fun if you play a proactive part. Don’t, for example, go to a party that suggests a theme, not be in the theme, and then spend the rest of your evening sitting in a corner sighing and moaning about how boring the party is. Come on. You have to play your part.

And you must remember this is coming from me and I’m not a big fan of parties. But this kind of act stupid kind, I like.

So remember, the next time you’re at a party and you’re thinking how you’d rather be somewhere else, try to put in some effort into injecting some life into the party because hey, there’s more to life than just sitting in corners and sulking.

And if anyone wants to re-create my polis outfit, here’s what I spent:

Polis buttons - $8 for 7 (sew on yourself!)
Blue men’s shirt, short sleeve - $5.90 from CK Dept store at Chinatown
Bermuda’s - model’s own
Belt - borrowed from Cass
Shoes - tap dancing shoes, borrowed from Cass (had the clink clink sound when I walked. Classic)
Moustache - a pack from costume shop, shared with colleagues, something like $15
Wig - rented from costume shop, $25
Face paint - also from costume shop, shared with colleagues, something like $15 also
Note book - borrowed from Cass
Khaki socks - $1.50 from Army Market
Whistle - $1.50 from Army Market
Name tag - $2 from Army Market
Beret - borrowed from Dylan
Other props (gun, baton, handcuffs, badge, walkie talkie) in set - $10.80 from neighbourhood shops

Have fun!