The Xbox Game that wouldn’t

Last week when Modern Warfare 3 was finally released, we headed down to Sim Lim Square to grab a copy for Eugene for his belated birthday present. We brought the game home and Bryan threw it on my side of the bed, like all the other things that he likes to throw on the bed.

The next day, while I went wedding gown shopping, Bryan made arrangements to meet Eugene to pass him his game. Right after we parked our car at China Square, Bryan suddenly realised he was empty handed and started cursing a mile a minute.

Him: WHERE IS THE GAME?
Me: how the fuck I know.
Him: WHERE DID YOU PUT IT?
Me: I didn’t touch it.
Him: I PUT IT ON THE BED!
Me: did you put it just now (before we left the house) or last night?
Him: LAST NIGHT (i’m not sure why Bryan talks like he’s God with Booming Voice)
Me: well it’s impossible that it’s still on the bed last night when we were both sleeping on the same bed (i’d have kicked it off in the middle of the night). Anyway we changed the sheets last night so YOU would have put it on the floor YOURSELF.
Him: *silence* (sudden realisation who’s the idiot here)

So he texted Eugene with apologies but they still met anyway for coffee. They then made plans for the next day for Eugene to swing by Bryan’s place to get the game since Eugene had an appointment in the area.

On the second day, Bryan placed the black plastic bag which held the game in a strategic spot: on my handbag. When Eugene arrived, as Bryan grabbed the plastic bag and as he headed out, I NAGGED at him to check that the right game was inside the bag. Bryan gave me a benign smile before he left the house. The exchange was made without my presence.

15 minutes later, I was packing my bag for the next day when I reminded Bryan to pass me my game (Skyrim) so I could bring it home to install it on my PC. Bryan had installed a copy on his PC (so I could play at his house) so he opened the cd-rom to take out the disc. But the disc wasn’t Skyrim but something else. then he looked around the room but couldn’t find anything. He looked at me and asked where did i put it.

This was getting a bit stale.

I started searching around the bed and found another black plastic bag on the floor. I looked inside and realised it was holding Eugene’s copy of Modern Warfare 3. Bryan had instead passed Eugene my copy of Skyrim. I took out the game from the plastic bag and showed it to Bryan. He threw a hissy fit like it was my fault he couldn’t pass the game to Eugene properly. Annoyed but concerned that Eugene was driving further away from our place, I quickly called his wife up.

Luckily they were at the halfway point between our houses. When I told Tricia in the most apologetic tone I could muster that Eugene got the wrong game, I could hear laughter in the background. I offered to pass it to them at their place later that day but they very nicely turned back instead. There was a lot of apologising and bowing when we made the final exchange later. I even made them take out the box from the plastic bag to make sure we got the right game. Bryan had never looked so sheepish in his life.

It’s a good thing Bryan isn’t a transplant surgeon or anything like that.

Yoshimi got her bum kissed!

I had my first car accident last week. We were headed to Bryan’s school on a Thursday morning, with Bryan at the wheel. The roads were slippery with after rain so everyone was driving slightly cautiously. Or at least so we thought.

We were on the PIE towards Changi near the BKE exit when someone 6 cars in front of us hit his brakes. this caused a chain reaction of brake lights to flash while everyone tried to stop. I almost had a heart attack seeing how fast the back of the car in front of us was heading towards us as we tried to stop. Luckily we did. So did the guy behind us. But the idiot behind him didn’t.

I must say the feeling of being hit from the back, with the sound of metal crunching, is not a nice feeling. Especially when you’re heaving a sigh of relief from not hitting the car in front of us was quickly replaced by the WHAT THE FUCK feeling when the guy behind us hit us. Bryan put on his WTF face and got out of his car. I followed him to see how bad the damage was.

I saw this and I almost burst into tears. on hindsight, it’s not really that bad. the left of the bumper came out  and we lost our license plate (it’s still somewhere on PIE. $50 to the person who finds it!). however since I have an emotional attachment to the car, I was like OOHHH NOOO YOOOOSHIIIMIIIIII! this is why you should NEVER name inanimate objects.

(yes i still have my baby pillow and bolster with me from 30+ years ago, named Pipi and Baba)

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Save the Date!

A taste of what I’ve been busy with.

Family Photo: The Cats

In a rare moment, Grey allowed himself to sit next to Fido. And Fido didn’t inch away like he used to. (which I now suspect is coz Grey’s breath doesn’t stink like a dead carcass anymore).

Hello boys!

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Inspired: How Google saved the Pirates vs Ninjas party

How to make goodie bags for Pirates vs Ninjas birthday party.

you need (1) a lot of patience (2) access to craft or budget shops (3) the power of Google.

If you’re in Singapore, you can find most of your pirate gear at Spotlight at Plaza Singapura. it’s at the party section (nearer to Daiso). they have pirate everything, from hats to eye patches to full party packs. I found a pirate pack of 8 with whistle (pirates whistle?), eye patch and everything. There was a full pirate gear set with pirate hat and all but that was $20 per set and I wasn’t keen on buying 5 sets of those. So I made do. The sword was from Daiso.

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I had a tough time finding ninja gear until I hit Daiso. It was a good thing that Spotlight and Daiso were next to each other at Plaza Singapura so I killed two Internet memes with one stone. They had the ninja sword and best of all, the ninja mask, which tickled me to no end. I didn’t know what sort of tattoos ninjas had so I guess a yin yang one was close enough.

Daiso had many things. I think Daiso wins Mustafa hands down in best place to find anything and everything because I bet Mustafa doesn’t sell ninja masks. Even then, i realised that different outlets stocked variations of each thing. I found ninja mask bindi, 2, 3 and 4 from the Plaza Sing branch but only managed to find ninja mask 1 at ION. yes I went to three Daisos to complete everything. this is called love & devotion.

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For the boy who wanted a Pirates vs Ninjas party

The birthday boy has been clamouring for a Pirates vs Ninjas party for some time. or a Plants vs Zombies one. but he couldn’t make up his mind so it could have been Pirates vs Ninjas vs Plants vs Zombies vs Vampires vs Werewolves vs Cowboys vs Aliens. I decided on Pirates vs Ninjas for him because getting the goodie bags for the rest is going to be a pain in the butt.

The party was supposed to be a surprise but he got wind of it when he tried to arrange his own birthday dinner with the same gang. I gave him a look and he realized I was planning something. I also hid the goodie bags in car boot which he almost opened until I ninja jumped in front of it and said NO! and he knew I was up to no good. But the boy played along coz I told him for the sake of our relationship, he must not spoil the surprise. Except for the day itself where he didn’t know where we were going still and didn’t know what to wear. Despite me telling him specifically jeans & tee, he still threw a hissy fit, “I don’t like not knowing where I’m going so I can dress for it!” so I rolled my eyes and told him Paulaner Brauhaus. Where else.

I prepared goodie bags for those who came. you either get a Pirate Ahoy bag or a Ninja Warrior bag. Luckily for me, most of the party items were easy to get from either Daiso (ninja) or Spotlight (pirate). In the Pirate bag, our mateys got a pirate sword, eye patch, pirate tattoo, spyglass, pirate map, gold coins and pirate whistle. In the Ninja bag, our warriors got a ninja sword, shuriken (throwing star), ninja tattoo, gold coins, bunny ninja wire holder and best of all NINJA MASKS!!

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Couplehood

last night before we fell asleep…

him: if burbur were an island, what would she be?
me: hmm
him: she’d be Burbados.
me: if bbtan (my pet name for him) were an island, what would he be?
him: hmm?
me: bintan! get it? bbiiiiintan.i’m quite good right? what with my limited knowledge of geography.
him: barbados is really an island in the carribeans.
me: i know. i watch Miss Universe.

Food: Prata Appreciation Party

We had a prata party at Casuarina Curry @ Macpherson to celebrate Ernest’s birthday. It is a new concept that they were trying out on us and we were happy to be their guinea pigs. Casuarina Curry is situated along the row of shophouses and private houses opposite the industrial estate. the place was kinda quiet despite prata joints usually the venue of choice for dinners and late night suppers. However it was the perfect place for our prata party.

for about $15 per person, you get a free flow of their non-meat pratas on the menu (the first column) which run anywhere from simple kosong (nothing) prata to a double plasta with egg, cheese and onion. Teh tariks (foam tea) is also part of the buffet too. since the birthday boy was late, we all decided to eat first. Bryan ate like 4 pratas in one sitting. When we made our 2nd order of drinks, one of the girls asked if they had iced teh tarik. the look on the guy’s face was priceless. he was trying to stay expressionless but I could see the twitch in his face that went “the fuck…? you’re asking if we have ice?”

Tummies full, we headed to the prep table set at the back of the restaurant. the prata chef rolled out his dough and demonstrated how prata flipping should be done. he should us how we should position our fingers and hands before flipping it. Bryan did a pretty good job, so good that they asked him to come back to work on weekends.

I on the other hand, failed miserably.

As you can tell, the prata chef was laughing at my tomfoolery. we should have done a dough flip-off; he do his prata while I show him how the chinese la mian (pulled noodles) is done. which looked like what my prata was turning into.

after everyone had their hand in prata flipping, they demonstrated how to make teh tarik. Teh tarik is actually tea with condensed milk, where the tea is poured from a high point so that when it lands in the second container, it forms a frothy foam. the pulling action means tarik. hence teh tarik is pulled tea in malay. it’s a good thing that they laid out plastic sheets on the ground coz by the end of the night, half the tea in the container was on the floor.

Ezekiel, Ernest’s kid, was given a chance to try teh tarik but using cool water. he’s so cute!

Bryan can’t seem to tarik teh with his mouth closed.

We had cake but since Ezekiel had a cough, he wasn’t allowed to blow the candle while it was on the cake. so we took out the candle, lit it a few times and let him have a go at the candle.

Leaving it to the professionals.

if you wish to have a prata party, feel free to contact them at their facebook page (linked above) or email them at enquiry@ccbl.com.sg

The Missing Journal

Does anyone recognise this?

About 10 years ago, I came across a journalling project called 1000journals. The project was started by 1 man who wondered what would happen if you send a journal around the world, who would receive it, what would they do with it, and what would come out of it. 1000 journals traveled the world through mail, via friends and back out into the world again. this produced the most amazing artwork and connected total strangers through a common love for journalling.

Each journal had a list of applicants, where the first person who got it could work on it, let his friends work on it, before sending it to the next person. in the event it got lost in the wild, finders are encouraged to check out the website, find the list through the journal number, and send it to the next person. I signed up on one and waited but I never got it. So I decided to start my own among my friends from Livejournal.

The journal travelled a few friends before it disappeared forever. I distinctively remembered it passing onto one livejournal user Cheshirefeline, who suggested passing it among his NUS friends before passing it back to me. However the journal disappeared after that.

until TEN YEARS LATER, when dear Bryan, also known to many as Cheshirefeline, was spring cleaning his shelves when he dug out a dusty blue bound journal. he burst out laughing and showed it to me, GUESS WHAT I FOUND!

when I realised what it was, I started shouting at him. all these years i’ve wondered what really happened to my journal, thinking he had passed it among his university mates and it getting lost when all this while it was sitting in his damn bedroom.

my contribution.

my contribution, i think it’s about my love for dance music.

Megan Augustin’s contribution.

Amizadai’s contribution.

macbart’s contribution.

Eugene Goh’s contribution

and then it landed on Bryan’s lap and HE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO IT EXCEPT LET IT COLLECT DUST! or perhaps dust was his contribution to the journal. it also made me wonder, if we never started dating, got engaged, and he never gotten coerced by me to clean his room coz I cannot stand the mess anymore, would we have found the book again.

Now that I’ve the journal back in my hands again, I might just start journalling again. I’m looking for anyone who might want to contribute to the journal, be it in writing, pictures or media of any sort. Jo Ann? Adele, your ninja loving daughter perhaps?

A Strange Funeral

Funerals to most people are solemn, serious affairs. There’s a list of things we are supposed to observe, depending on which religious ceremony the funeral is being carried upon. Being Chinese, most of the funerals I’ve attended were Taoist ceremonies, where there’s a strict observance to rules such as offering of incense sticks to the deceased, payment of “bek kim” (white money), taking of a red thread as you leave the wake. stuff like that. At my grandma’s funeral, there was a whole bunch of kneeling and bowing to do. At Christian funerals, there’s a lot of standing and sitting during the service, followed by singing tunelessly to hymns you’re not familiar with.

If there were a rule book written about funerals, there would be a bunch of things one isn’t supposed to do. no chatting, no laughing, no fidgeting. I remembered at grandma’s funeral, while kneeling in front of the casket while the Taoist priest was chanting something, my dad was joking with my uncle the next time they must remember to bring cushions so it’d be more comfortable. I remembered joking with my cousin that it’s a good thing we were born girls coz our only duties at a wake were to serve drinks while the boys had to do most of the kneeling, as girls weren’t worthy enough to kneel. we laughed out loud before stopping abruptly, realising where we were.

However the funeral I attended this week was a slightly strange affair. Bryan’s grandmother passed away suddenly and we attended her wake and funeral on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. I had expected a 3-day affair but it was cut short to just 1. at first I assumed it was a modified Christian thing, but then I realised it was coz the entire extended family had to fly off on a trip to Bali the following day so the reasons were purely practical.

Everything else was as funerals should be; people showed up in funeral colours, service was held in a solemn manner. but thereafter, the uncles brought out the wine and in that one night, they finished up to 15 bottles of wine and 38 cans of beer, and i doubt anyone was drinking in sorrow.

and in the middle of all this, Bryan announced our engagement to all the cousins. I smiled at the round of congratulations, all the while thinking how grandmother was lying dead outside while we were sharing happy news. if that wasn’t odd enough, one cousin announced he got first dibs in our housewarming gift: a rice cooker. Even in death, life, and rice cooking, does go on.

The following night was the funeral itself. we showed up just in time to witness the end of the service before they loaded the casket into the hearse to be carted off to the crematorium which was about 20 minutes drive away. the minute the casket went in, loud christian music swelled around and over grandma, before the driver managed to climb into the front to lower the volume. Bryan and I tried not to giggle at that. when we got to the crematorium, the first thing most people did was to rush off to the toilets, to which Uncle D shouted jokingly, eh! you come all the way to Mandai just to use the toilet?! aren’t we supposed to show respect by sending the casket off first?

We stood around waiting for a good half hour because the other cousins were late. the funeral service people were goofing around, the relatives were chatting, the children were running around screaming. I watched amused that even in death, grandma had to wait for her grandchildren to turn up. if she could, she would probably be huffing and rolling her eyes.

when the last cousin finally arrived, we headed solemnly into the hall and the pastor continued the rest of the service. after that we had to put stalks of flowers on the casket before we had to shake hands with the immediate family members (the aunts and uncles) like the end of a wedding dinner. I whispered to Bryan, what do I say? I’m sorry? thank you for inviting me? So I just hugged every aunt and uncle and tried to smile as sadly as I could, coz it was drilled in my head that I had to act properly in such things. nevermind that this family was nowhere proper. at one point, the analogy to the wedding dinner was so firmly planted in my head that i caught myself mouthing “bye bye” to one of the uncles.

we then shuffled into the viewing hall where the casket was pushed for a final farewell. there was some sad hymn being played in the background while the family sniffled as grandma’s casket appeared slowly, before disappearing from view. the minute the doors close after her, the hymn stopped abruptly. it was as if the gates of heaven closed and the hallelujahing angels stopped. I looked around and saw that it was really one of the funeral service people who had promptly pressed the stop button on a portable player, unplugged it and was ready to go.

we exited the hall down a flight of dimly lit stairs where the cousins commented that it’s like leaving a movie theatre, except that the funeral hall stairs were much better equipped than the ones that GV (Golden Village) threatres tend to dump you into once the movie ends. now I cannot exit a movie theatre without thinking about Mandai crematorium. outside, we stood around chatting while an uncle dragged in 2 coolers of drinks for everyone.

these were just some of the funny stuff that happened the past 2 nights, things that usually aren’t supposed to happen at funerals. but i guess with this family, nothing should ever be done normal.