I love to go a-wandering

This has been a travel-happy year so far. I went to England with Mr. Manx in May, to make up for the awful aborted trip last year.

This is a horse having a bad day at the Horse Guards Parade. If I'd been the horse I'd have been cranky too, being photographed by all these crazy tourists. Damn you, crazy tourists!

Then I went to Melbourne in July and had a great time with my pseudonymed friends Mr. and Mrs. Monty (and their two tiny Montettes – let’s call them Hontette and Sontette), Camellia and Tinman. 

A glorious ramble through the National Gallery of Victoria and the Queen Victoria Park led to this lamp-post overlooking the Yarra River (which I’m just mentioning for reference; you can’t actually see it in this picture, sorry). I can’t swear to it, but this was probably along St Kilda Road. I think.

I thought that was going to be it for the year, but as it turns out, in the span of the next few weeks I will be taking short trips to Bali and Hanoi. I’m really excited because I love travelling and taking strange new photographs. On the other hand, I really hate flying and am terribly unprepared (planned itinerary - nope; changed money - oops; packed luggage - eh)… but that’s kinda part of the fun sometimes, isn’t it?

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Too easy to forget

Yesterday I brought a friend from work to church and, among other things which I will not describe now, it made me realize that I am actually really proud of my church friends. It comes as a surprise only because one tends to take old friends rather for granted, and some of these folks have been my friends for something like sixteen years, but that’s no excuse for missing out on qualities like their intelligence, goodness, kindness and talent. Whenever one of them showed welcome to my colleague, or played their musical instrument well, or made a witty remark, or was nice to someone else’s kid, I felt glad that these were my friends, and hoped to be a better friend in return. Sometimes it takes new eyes to appreciate what we already have.

And my nose is much better, though my voice ain’t what it used to be, so yay for hot toddies too.

Resolution of bitchery

I am pleased – very pleased – to report that the episode of bitchery I described in my last post has been resolved. I’d sent a killingly courteous email reply to what I’d read and left it to the recipients to figure it out as they chose.

I am actually rather ashamed to say that it caused a bit more upset than I’d thought. Frankly, I’d assumed, while on my offended high horse, that the recipients would be too self-centred and thick-skinned to have a clue. I was wrong about that and things cleared up after a short talk all round.

Yes, this is a picture of an olive branch

Five good things this week

Looking back at my recent back-in-Singapore posts, I realize that I can be extremely negative. In my defence, the Fruit Farm can be a very negative place and I spend most of my waking hours there.

To remedy that, especially as it befits a Sunday, I shall think of five things that I am grateful for this week.

1. Although it was quite bad, my flu got better in about three days. Thank You, God, for a decent immune system.
2. Mr. Manx proved himself the sweetest guy in the world by driving up and down to get me a box of Tamiflu and other meds while I was sick on call.
3. Friends who checked up on me while I was sick.
4. $11.95 martinis and free filet mignon sandwiches at Morton’s at Oriental, five till seven p.m. on weekdays. The chocolate martini is perfection, being chock-full of dense chocolate shavings. The sandwiches were a godsend, especially since I’d only had a slice of raisin bread that whole day. I had four martinis. Burp.
5. Not having to work this weekend.

House @ Dempsey

Claire and I were just at House, a restaurant at Dempsey. It’s quite atrocious to find, being situated toward the back of the area. Up till now, I rely on luck and obscure memory to find the place. I remember having to go past the Dempsey Hill fountain, Ben & Jerry’s and Margarita’s, and the rest remains a perpetual blank.

At any rate, I managed to find it. We were at the CAMP bar section. Here are some pictures I took:

This picture shows the entrance of House. We thought that the short guy in the cap might be David Gan, but it turned out not to be. This guy did not have the requisite arrogance and swish (heh).

There is a beautiful drinks menu, and even beautifuller drinks. I have tried their Magadascan Mojito and Mint Berry Gin Fizz, and both are very yummy. If you look carefully, you will see that there is practically a forest outside the window. Apparently, one of the trees is a centurion, and even has a name.

The predominantly-male staff is quite beautiful as well, hee. Here’s one, cutting up our pizza with an obliging smile. They also give shoulder rubs, for a small fee. No, really.

Close-up of our pizza. Observe the tuna chunks, avocado slices and rocket leaf mountain. I love rocket leaves.

Finally, here’s a picture of a waiter writing out the promotions of the day. I swear, there’s someone in every restaurant and supermarket that can write this sort of font. I think it must practically be a hiring requirement.

Bottomline: a lovely place for a comfy-but-cool date or for a good yak with friends. I wouldn’t go there too often because I don’t want to keep spending that sort of money (S$17 for the Magadascan Mojito), but I’d definitely think of it when I want to be somewhere a bit special. Go check out the toilet names.

Bon Voyage Monty

Monty left for the UK today. Mr. Manx, Claire and I went to the airport at 0745 to send him off. His family was there with him, including the twins - clutching half-damp biscuits and dispersing crumb showers. So was his pastor, who prayed for him and his family.

I’m pleased to say that none of us wailed or even sniffled during the half-hour we were all together. After all, he will be gone for just six months. Although his departure must be hard on his wife and kids, they will be joining him in a couple of weeks, and then it will be a family adventure.

I will miss him, but I will survive nicely. It will be good for me to learn to be more independent and outspoken in his absence.

After Mr. Manx left the airport for work, Claire and I headed for retail therapy at Wisma Atria. I bought two Dorothy Perkins dresses and a pair of brown Oxford booties from Topshop. The booties were a splurge at S$136 (after membership discount, heh), but they are so surprisingly comfortable and flattering that pleasure overwhelms guilt.

On the way home in Claire’s car, I saw a monitor lizard on the grass bank flanking the expressway. It was a dirty green-brown colour, with a chubby body and spindly legs, and was about the length of my arm. I’d never seen one before, and my first thought was, “Baby crocodile?!!!”. Claire kindly disabused me of the notion and set me right. 

Although I am no fan of reptiles in general, I was pleased to find out that the monitor lizard traditionally symbolizes sacredness in totem culture. It was somehow comforting, considering the amount of change that lies ahead of me in the next few months.

Post-Photoshoot Pain… & Photographs

After the rigours of yesterday, I woke up at noon today with abominable aches in my thighs, shoulders, arms and even hands. Wedding photography can be pretty hard work. 

Another painful thing about a wedding photoshoot is the editing that comes after. I actually love using Photoshop, but it easily eats up hours and days, and is not very good for my obsessive tendencies.

Here are a few samples I’ve done today.

The bride's bouquet

The lovely bride

Torments for the groom and his men, devised by the girls

The church ceremony

Back to reality

Wedding Photoshoot

It has been a crazy busy day. Mr. Manx and I woke up at five this morning in preparation for our friends’ wedding day – let’s call them Toms and Pepper. Toms and Pepper were our classmates in university and have been together for a really long time (but not as long as Mr. Manx and me, heh).

As this was not our first time being amateur wedding photographers, Mr. Manx and I followed our usual protocol. We split up first thing in the morning – he to Toms’ home and I to Pepper’s, to catch the preparatory rituals on both sides.

I love taking shots of brides being made-up for their weddings. The transformation is charming to observe, and I feel privileged being the person to record the event. Some families have their own customs, in accordance to their dialect groups, that may involve certain food, prayers and adornments. Christian parents will drape the bridal veil. People tend to have rather strained, quiet, unusual expressions at this point. I think it’s because they’re still accepting that the time has come for these rituals to be done for their girl.

The peace is ruptured once the ‘sisters’  - typically bridesmaids and best girlfriends - appear, and chaos soon erupts with the noisy arrival of the groom and his ‘brothers’, as the girls put the guys through ridiculous torments before they are permitted admission to the bride’s home. This is the point that Mr. Manx and I reunite and take more pictures than is good for our own mental health.

After that, we all went back to Toms’ place for the Chinese tea ceremony. Traditionally, the couple serve tea, in dainty little cups, to the groom’s parents and senior relatives, who take their turns sitting down in pairs. In return, the seniors give the couple good wishes, red packets and/or gifts. I always fantasize about witnessing the presentation of a car key or a title deed at this point, but it has never happened. Depending on the size of the family, all this can take some time, and must be properly done, in order to avoid omitting or offending anyone.

Then everybody headed back to the Pepper’s home to repeat the same ceremony with her folks, then ate and chilled till it was time to head out for the wedding ceremony.

Toms and Pepper, being Christians, had their ceremony in St. Teresa’s Church. By this time, I was pretty much pooped and running on autopilot. Flowers – check. Pastor – check. Rings – check. Smiling guests – check. Oh yeah… bride and groom – check.

And then they were married.

By the time the wedding dinner rolled around, I was totally pooped. The rest of the evening drifted pleasantly by my sozzled eyes and now I am finally home with Mr. Manx after a very long, but quite wonderful day.

God bless you, Toms and Pepper! May you know every happiness together.