Author: thehiams

A day of my life

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Extra holidays are frivolous, so one must spend all the time outside with all the other folks who also didn’t work – says no one ever.

I am really thankful for friends who drive and volunteers to pick me up, to indulge in cafes that are out of reach.

We hit Da Paolo for lunch, this nice quiet cafe next to Botanical Gardens. It was no longer quiet after we entered the cafe.

In the typical fashion of me, I over-ordered. I had Carbonara and a large Latte AND an almond croissant (the last one of the day!). I think my brain registers all eating events as – GO BIG OR GO HOME. I usually end up as GO BIG THEN GO HOME.

I love the almond croissant, the crust, the almond, the custard and everything. I secretly wished that I didn’t polish off the carbonara, so that I can enjoy the croissant even more. Alas, the gluttony couldn’t bare to leave the plate alone.

After too much food, we head to Botanical Gardens nearby to (half-heartedly) walk off all the calories. The weather is sinisterly hot, which explains the clear blue skies. Our walk around the park lasted for approximately 20 minutes.  Botanical Gardens is a beautiful place (when not crowded with 19328478924698234 people having picnics), the scenery is very un-Singapore-ish, and is a good place for an evening stroll with your friends. Or perhaps ponder over our mid-life crisis. Or to have conversations with ourselves (but not too loudly because you don’t want people to call the IMH on you).

Because it was a non-peak day, there weren’t any dogs available to stalk pet. There were alot of screeching kids. We saw people in heels and high slit cheongsams.

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Walked over and saw the swans. All 3 of them, feeding on the attention that the crowd gave.

What magnificent birds! squealed one.

I look on with half curiosity and disdain. I hate birds, and they always seem to know that I have this morbid fear of them and charge towards me with malicious intent.

This one in the picture charged towards us with its wing all spread out. SEE! I told you the hatred is mutual!

Not peace-loving, no chill birds. I was looking at the tortoises ok, I wasn’t even standing near you!

I hate birds.

This is such an abrupt end to an otherwise happy post. I re-iterate that I am happy to hang out with my friend, just not too happy about getting chased by birds.

On my table

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This afternoon, I took a photo of the pile of books on my table as I scribbled on my notebook.

My current reads:

The Zoo Quest Expeditions by Sir David Attenborough (please insert heart in eyes emoji in your own imagination)

and

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (in Chinese – I’ve gotten this a present last Christmas)

I used to beable to sit down for hours (perhaps that could also aid to explain my larger-than desired butt) and just read. I could read and forget about meals, and be in the zone. But sadly, these days, I’ve been fiddling with my phone more than my books.

My pile of books waiting to be read, waiting to be given life, sits in a lonely pile in a box – neglected, and seemingly abandoned.

The inertia is real, and very scary. The amount of guilt that I felt every time my gaze fell on the box is…

I took f.o.r.e.v.e.r to read through half of the book. The younger me would prolly look at the me now in absolute disgust, appalled at the person I’ve became (eh, sorry la. Adulting sucks, or rather I suck at adulting). I used to polish off books so fast, and concocted all these lovely little mini movies in my head whilst I read.

My attention span is now very very questionable and (somewhat) disappointing.

It’s extraordinary how self-obsessed human beings are. The things that people always go on about is, ‘tell us about us’, ‘tell us about the first human being’. We are so self-obsessed with our own history. There is so much more out there than what connects to us.
– Sir David Attenborough

Shucks. I’m self-obsessed too.

Back to the books!

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets in concert

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Almost 21 years since the debut of Harry Potter books.

Almost 16 years since Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets movie.

Yet, all of us sitted there, mostly adults mind you, were still engrossed whilst the orchestra played and accompanied the movie running on the screen. It was as though, we all had a common childhood.

A common magical childhood.

We cheered for our houses. Laughed when Dobby kept trying to save, or rather almost accidentally murdering, Harry Potter. Murmured the lines that we kept close to our hearts from the years of watching the movie.

EAT SLUGS MALFOY.

Mudbloods, Half-bloods, Basilisk, Petrified, Enchanted Cars, Slugs, Moaning Myrtle, Crabbe and Goyle, Wild Bludgers, Heir of Slytherin, Spiders, Aragog, Gilderoy Lockhart, Polyjuice Potion, Duelling Club…

So many familiar terms, familiar faces, familiar sounds.

A whole hall of strangers, bonding together momentarily, because of Harry.

The wise words in the books, which struck me again and again, after all this time. Thank you for moulding me into the person I am.

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Indeed, it is about our choices, which makes us unique.

The magical night, left me light on my steps and hungry for the very next Harry Potter series concert.

Next up, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

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Lately, it has been raining.

Sometimes, pouring,

Sometimes, drizzling.

Sometimes, raining cats and dogs and perhaps godzilla.

And the non-stop rain, left a temporary effect on the temperature of our naturally toasty weather. It has been a rather cooling 22-24 degrees celsius for the past few days. It’s like…our entire nation is air-con weather.

Alot others call it sweater weather.

And I? I am just grateful that the weather is cooling after my rashes episode. Cooler weather is gentler on my red rash condition. Less sweat, less rash. Hence, I’ve been walking around in my tees and shorts, much to my amazement and amusement of my relatives – who are all decked in pull-overs, cardigans and….heat tech socks.

But the grey skies…just makes one feel very lazy and unmotivated. The need to curl up in bed covered in warm toasty blankets is real. But the cooling weather, made me wake up earlier than usual, and the dread of sitting on the porcelain throne is very real. Hence I cannot wait for this episode to be over.

Besides, my rash is (mostly) gone.

2018, is off to a really queer start, and I am looking forward to an equally queer journey ahead. As I sit infront of the window, typing out this entry, the sound of the rain drops pitter and pattering gradually fades. The scenery clears up.

Perhaps, it is but time to return to reality.

Hello, 2018.

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Oh hey, it’s 2018.

Whilst many are on the “new year new me” BS, I took a step back and start to wonder, how would I want my 2018 to be?

Because to be perfectly honest, nearly a week into 2018…I still feel very 2017, 2016, 2015…

To me, it feels like any other day.

I don’t feel particularly special, or that I have aged (atleast not visibly – I hope), nor do I feel the fresh hope that a new year brings.

Like any other day, I slept, and I woke up, then I proceed to do the things that I usually do. I sincerely, do not get it, and was rolling my eyes in my mind, when people are asking me what were my new year resolutions.

Resolutions.

That faraway word. That big word, what I loved using when I was much younger, deluding myself at the start of every year that I will follow through with them the entire year (but I never did, not a single one of them have been accomplished). Resolutions.

I simply replied, to exist, to read, and to sleep more.

I know many people have issues with the word exist. It gets them started ALL THE TIME, just like how people who abhors durians react when I shove it in their faces. Existing is important, especially to those who matter to you.

Spend time with yourself, build yourself, love yourself, then love others.

Someone who was once a close friend, once told me – you don’t help others, in hope of the kindness being returned. Help, simply because you want to, not because you need to, or wants good karma. It is simply the heart of wanting to be kind, that makes it precious. It is in us, to choose to be kind.

The similar rule applies to love. Love unconditionally.

2018, I guess, I could learn to love you, and perhaps, myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Live to eat. Eat to live.

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Recently, the weather has been horrible. It rains when I need to get out of bed to go to work, then proceeds to burn me with it’s love when I need to get home.

I am beginning to believe that the weather now follows the lyrics of Katy Perry’s song: You are hot when you’re cold, You are yes when you’re no.

You know I am sick, when I start quoting Katy Perry to describe the weather.

I have been coughing non-stop for 2 weeks, and been suffering from indecisive fever. I miss the sleep, I miss the food.

Above all, I miss all the ice cream that I am now not allowed to have because it triggers my cough.

My cough hates me.

My cough likes to eat congee and soupy stuff, drink hot tea and warm water. Things that I sometimes eat and drink to….y’know…be healthier.

This long battle with cough also made me realize that…I live to eat. I now look at my meals with disdain, and with each bite, I pray that the cough would be gone. So I can down that ice cube laden drink to calm the fire that has been ignited with the amount of hot food and drinks I’ve been drowning in the past weeks. (note: I know that this is a run on sentence, but I think that it is needed to justify the amount of desperation in me)

I’ve tried to live vicariously through the food photos that I’ve taken in the past, but I realize that it does nothing but to crave for food more.

Oh, I am not allowed to eat chicken, because it seems to induce phlegm, and I don’t fancy the feeling of being chocked to death by phlegm when I am sleeping.

Many weeks ago, I stuffed my face with food.

  1. BAKCHORMEE

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Bak Chor Mee. Laden with all the meats. Laced with Chilli.

Apparently the trick with all these famous BCM store is to…go at odd timings. No one goes at 4p.m to have dinner. Because it’s too early to have dinner, too late for lunch, too filling to have as tea break.

So I can sit down and have the luxury of having a bowl without a queue.

The Meepok so springy. I like. I want to eat BCM.

I realize that I make a lousy food critic. I have a lack of vocabulary when it comes to describing food. But it’s good! Looking at the picture makes me drool.

*note: I just swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

BCM from Upper thomson, next to Udders.

2. Thai Food

Coconut milk and chicken boiled together as a savory soup. As you can tell, it was good, BUT I WAS VERY CONFUSED. Because it tastes like…bobochacha but savory and with chicken.

I am very easily confused. But I eat food that’s good.

Grilled pork neck is good too! I know the plating looks bad. But who cares because I am there to eat the food and not to eat the plating.

We inhaled a plate of kangkong too. This was post BCM, so it’s enough to tell that the food is damn good, because I will never bother to stuff my face when I am already semi-full.

Let me give you a hint: this is in sunshine plaza, and it’s next to Merely ice-cream place.

Why is this piece of information important?

it brings me to the third food place.

3. Merely Ice-Cream

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I love ice cream. I planned my food route so that I can end up somewhere near a good ice cream place so that I can legitly go “Oh! There’s an ice-cream place nearby! Let’s go get some dessert to wash the dinner down!”

Except that it isn’t coincidental. I planned it. HAHAHAHAHA.

Merely is always very very generous with their ice cream scoops. The two gigantic scoops were mine.

I don’t share ice cream. Blasphemy. Get yours.

Merely is at Sunshine Plaza, please leave me some ice cream thanks.

Life. Stories.

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Bangkok, Thailand.

As I ran in through the closing doors of the airport rail, I was greeted by this sight. I sneakily took a picture of this moment.

No matter where I went, the same subway moments strike me again and again. Everyone looks so connected, yet looks so…far, distant and disconnected at the same time. Together and disconnected, so I say.

Somewhere through the journey, I can’t help but wonder, what is on their mind? What is their story?

When I was young, I’ve always wanted the ability to read minds, because I truly believed that everyone of us have a powerful story to share. Behind every smile and tear, there is something that others couldn’t quite fully understand.

I feel you, but I truly don’t feel on the level that you do.

As I grew up, I learnt that the thirst of wanting to knows how others feel or what they are thinking – is called kaypoh. If you put it in better sounding terms, I empathize! But I’ll admit that I am more of the kaypoh type. I love it when people share their stories and feelings with me. More often than not, I would be the silent listener.

I don’t judge (outloud), and I don’t offer advice, because I realize that these 2 things are the things that people need the least when they approach me.

The listening ear indeed.

Sharing of stories, forms a true momentary bond between the speaker and listening. The unmistakable closeness. It is also due to the exact same reason, that, if given a choice, we would speak to strangers instead.

Stripped of the background, names, familiarity, we are nothing more than just humans. Humans with nothing attached to us. We have got nothing to gain, nothing to lose, hence we speak with our hearts and soul.

The easiest and often honest conversations always happens with strangers you just met. That auntie in the coffee shop, the grandma sitting on the benches, the uncle puffing his lung sacs away…

After the conversation, the bond breaks, and you are never to see them again. You carry on with you the wisdom, the lessons behind the conversations, to in turn, create your own.

Life. Stories.

痛。

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她，隔着厚厚的一层外套，不停地搔痒。

搔啊搔啊。

“不要再抓了！怎么了？事物敏感吗？过敏吗？”我皱起眉头问道。看着她永无止境地搔痒，搞到我的皮肤也开始蠢蠢欲动。

她，顿了顿，笑着问我要不要看一看。她把那层厚厚的外套脱下，一双手臂上一道道长短不一的伤疤，暴露在强烈的阳光下。

好刺眼。

那些密密麻麻布满整条手臂，深浅不一的伤疤。

我默不作声，因为，我不知道该怎么回应。她，见状，开心地笑了。

她把袖子卷上，让更多曾见不得光的伤疤，吸收满满的阳光。太阳这么猛，却怎么都无法让失温的心暖和起来。

“为什么？”

“我每一次看到血从我身体流出时，我才意识到，其实，我是活着的。”

“为什么？”

“皮上的痛，会好。血，一下子就停了。可是，内心里的痛，好了又再撕裂，好了又再撕裂。一次比一次更痛，一次比一次更难结巴。一次比一次更心灰意冷。”

她抚摸着手上凹凸不平的伤疤，表情淡然地回复道。

“你让我看到之后，有更快乐吗？”

“快乐？”

“对，快乐。”

“你知道吗？有一种感觉比快乐更具感染力。”她，站了起来，穿上外套，准备离开。

“什么？”

“那个感觉名叫－痛。”

 

The magical thing about food

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Japan is an amazing country – chock full of polite citizens, clean and green, AND AMAZING FOOD.

It’s not just freshly prepared food that is out-of-this-world amazing, even pre-packaged ones. They come in all sorts of bizarre flavours, and lastly, seasonal flavours.

Seasonal flavours are often, amazing, and some as rare as that pokemon that you have been chasing around for (perhaps its end of the season). So, when you chance upon that wild seasonal flavour, take out your pokeball I mean wallet/purse and just purchase it. Do not walk off smugly, thinking that you’ll see it again.

More often than not, you do not see it again (maybe it’s just my luck).

After returning from Fukuoka for 2 weeks, I finally opened my final Jagabee. Admittedly, other than the 4 words 期间限定, I don’t know what flavour I’m getting, because i cannot quite figure out what the picture infront is trying to portray.

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What I do know, is this is going to be potato chips with skin still on, and I’m sure it will be glorious and breath-taking.

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Look at them, all ready to be devoured by me.

Japan, you are doing this all on point. I don’t know what I’ve bought, but I LOVE the surprise (though I still can’t figure out what I ate – but it’s TOTALLY OK). Crispy potato, one fry at a time. I wish that the cup will magically refill itself when I can see the bottom in entirety.

How do I live up my name, when there’s nothing to hiam.

Go out there, and get surprised!

 

Of Luck and Ramen

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Dinner destination was supposed to be at Genki, but lady luck was like NONONONONONO, and magically churned out this long snake of hoomans queueing for sushi at 6pm in the evening.

Are you kidding me? There was near 20 groups in the queue.

Nope, I’m having none of it. So we strolled to Keisuke Ramen to try our luck.

ATLAS…

There’s still a queue, but 3, sounds far more reasonable than 20.

So Ramen it is! Besides, we got seats within 5 minutes. Even better!

My itchy hands and mouth just had to try the Sakura Cola, whilst S got the Green tea. To put it very nicely, Sakura flavour is an acquired taste (To me, it tastes like….some cough mixture got mixed in my cola, and isn’t cola supposed to be a cough mixture in the first place? Is this cough mixture-ception) Acquired taste really.

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Please be smarter than me and get the safer option of green tea cola. To be even safer, just take the normal cola. Adventurous doesn’t always guarantee results you see.

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The colour of the drink, otherwise, looks highly picturesque. Maybe, that’s why the gentleman 2 tables away is silently judging me while I took photos of my sakura drink. Pink and Fizzy – perfectly instagrammable! (but no, I didn’t instagram the drink)

Now to finish up the drink because…$$$.

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My ramen was the safer option. Can’t go wrong with the summer option. Red, oily, thick broth, hard noodles and most importantly, so generous with the meat.

Will go back for ramen anytime.

Cola? No thanks.