It was the last night of the Honey Bun-neeey's stay in Singapore (of his August trip) and we were being given the cold shoulder. By whom, you ask. Well, it would be no surprise if I said it was The Lady of the Manor. Any why, you ask. Well, this one's a shocker. Are you sitting down? You'll need to if you're going to read on.
As we're both sitting on the lounge, waiting for her to comment on what we found out about the Yishun Country Club that day, she sits quietly and starts to flip the 4-page brochure from front to back to front to back and all over again. This goes on for a while and the HB and I knew something was up. I decided that I was going to take myself to bed anyway because the HB and I needed to be up early the next morning for his flight out of Singapore. The HB said he's not far out of bed too but will stay up a little longer. Good luck, I thought to myself as I made my exit.
The next morning, in the taxi to the airport, the HB summarises the 3 hour conversation which he had with The Lady of the Manor after I had taken myself to bed. 3 bloody hours! By the time he had gone to bed, it was close to 3am and he only had less than 3 hours of sleep because we had to be up early for his flight out. It wasn't like the Lady of the Manor didn't know he had an early start the next day but that didn't stop her from acting like a child, did it?
So, the source of her childish tantrums turns out to be none other than the wedding dinner reception or banquet as we'd like to call it in Singapore. The past 2 weeks, the Honey Bun-neeey and I had been asking hotels to send us their packages, we'd been out and about looking at these function rooms and we'd always come home to report our findings to The Lady of the Manor. But towards the end of the HB's trip, it surfaced that
we did not want to make a speech (the HB wasn't comfortable with a 20min monologue)
we did not want a champagne fountain (tacky, tacky, tacky!)
we did not want a Yum Seng toast (we don't speak that dialect and its not our tradition)
we did not want the dry ice-effect during our march-in (tacky, tacky, tacky and haven't we moved on from that?) .
The Lady of the Manor couldn't be more displeased. She wants the 80s version of a full-blown Chinese banquet for our dinner reception - just minus the Chinese sit-down menu. But why when it's fast forward 2 decades later, and neither of us are Chinese? Her attempt at logical reasoning is - because that's the way it's done in Singapore. A whole load of crap that is! The last time she must have attended one of these wedding receptions would have been 12 years ago when my brother got married! Perhaps that's why she's still caught up with the style and practices of wedding receptions of that era! Cringe! But being The Lady of the Manor, she refuses to admit to that and instead lies that she knows what she's talking about because she's attended so many other wedding dinner receptions in recent years. She fails to notice that we both live under the same house and I usually know what her social activities are.
Anyway, in 3 hours, in between having to hear re-runs of the Lady of the Manor putting me down, accusing me of hell all and comparing me with the daughter-in-law she never liked and the son she puts on a pedastal, the HB tried to reason with her why we didn't want these practices at our reception. He even negotiated with her - we'll make a speech and a toast, albeit not a Yum Seng toast, but no to all the rest. It seemed that although she wasn't happy she wasn't getting the whole deal, she agreed nonetheless.
This all comes back to the dinner reception we don't even want. Why are we bloody having to negotiate with her on all these things when it's a bloody dinner reception we didn't even want in the first place??? It's bloody madness!!! And doesn't it embarrass her to behave like a 6 years old who throws tantrums when he doesn't get his way when the fact is, she's 61 years old and should be years wiser than that?
The Antics of His Future Mother-in-law.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Outdated Updates Updated - The One About Isabella Tan
The long anticipated wait for Little Miss Isabella Tan ended on 23 August 2006 when at 7.18pm, I got an sms from the mother of the little girlie, Sophia, declaring one victorious word, "Delivered!"
So the Honey Bun-neeey and I popped by the hospital to visit both mommy and girlie. Sophia was doing well and was up on her feet already. After giving us the details of her labour (must make mental note: never discuss details of labour before dinner), she introduced Isabella and like every proud mommy, she pointed out how Isabella's taken on the unflattering genes from each side. The cutie apparently has Wei Yi's eyes, Sophia's nose and is a wee bit hairy. I offered to give the little darling advice on waxing when the time was right. Sophia wasn't enthused.
Back in the hospital room, Wei Yi and The Honey Bun-neeey were exchanging views and reviews of apparently very stimulating books on history. Wei Yi majored in Political Science and The Honey Bun-neeey did History at Uni. Perfect. So while they furrowed eyebrows over this and that date in history when the Allied Forces took over XXX country, I was slowly feeling the blood drain from me. Thank God for Sophia or I'd be a bloodless Wee Yapper, because the two of us then started talking girlie stuff.
In all, it was a really lovely visit and we were glad to see that both Isabella and Sophia were healthy and doing well.
But in the meantime, The Honey Bun-neeey and I were discussing names for our kids (in future). Yes, remember, we are talking about two people who have got most of their wedding details completed and checked off the list when their wedding is in Sept 2007 (Afternote: the wedding has been brought forward to June 2007...more of that later). So it shouldn't surprise you that we're talking kids names when they are years from being in the picture.
I realised it was far easier shopping for girls names than boys names.
Me: Elizabeth? Catherine? Very regal eh?
He: Too common
What if it's a boy?
He: Leon. It's French!
Me: Might work if we're in France but not in an English-speaking Australia.
The pronounciation would just be bastardised and any ounce of romanticism in that name would have been yanked out, trampled on deep into the ground. And it really doesn't go with The Honey Bun-neeey's family name.
He: Joseph?
Me: I like the sounds of it. (finally! an agreement!)
He: Yeah, it'll probably get shortened to Joe by his mates at school or work.
Me: Joe?? No. That would be way too common. Like Tom, Dick or Harry.
As you may have guessed, no conclusion has been reached. We have time. But how much time?
I've always wanted to have 5 years of marital bliss before the kids come along (and exhaust us to the point of zero couple-time and romance quotient). And this 5-year plan would be perfect given that The Honey Bun-neeey and Wee Yapper have a long distance relationship (up until the point of marriage) and would need to spend some couple time to ourselves before thinking of expanding the family.
But there's a wee little thing called Age that's working against us. When we get married next year, he will be 36 and I will be 31. If you're good at math, and if we go by the 5-year plan, we'll be 41 and 36 respectively by the time our first child comes along. Not good.
1) Given the countless studies made of women in their late thirties having children, there is an unhealthy number of them who have had difficult pregnancies or complications.
2) The child may be at a higher risk of a host of health problems.
3) As parents, The Honey Bun-neeey and the Wee Yapper will be gasping for air trying to keep up with their child as they play ball in the backyard (if we have one!) because by then, I'd be pushing forty and The Honey Bun-neeey would be looking at his retirement years!
4) The Honey Bun-neeey and the Wee Yapper will need to be wheeled to their child's graduation. From pre-school.
Erm....it does look like I'm going to have to re-think this 5-year plan because I'm not in a position to be selfish. But is it being selfish to want time to ourselves, a luxury we don't/didn't have as a couple in a long-distance relationship? Maybe a 3-year plan?
So the Honey Bun-neeey and I popped by the hospital to visit both mommy and girlie. Sophia was doing well and was up on her feet already. After giving us the details of her labour (must make mental note: never discuss details of labour before dinner), she introduced Isabella and like every proud mommy, she pointed out how Isabella's taken on the unflattering genes from each side. The cutie apparently has Wei Yi's eyes, Sophia's nose and is a wee bit hairy. I offered to give the little darling advice on waxing when the time was right. Sophia wasn't enthused.
Back in the hospital room, Wei Yi and The Honey Bun-neeey were exchanging views and reviews of apparently very stimulating books on history. Wei Yi majored in Political Science and The Honey Bun-neeey did History at Uni. Perfect. So while they furrowed eyebrows over this and that date in history when the Allied Forces took over XXX country, I was slowly feeling the blood drain from me. Thank God for Sophia or I'd be a bloodless Wee Yapper, because the two of us then started talking girlie stuff.
In all, it was a really lovely visit and we were glad to see that both Isabella and Sophia were healthy and doing well.
But in the meantime, The Honey Bun-neeey and I were discussing names for our kids (in future). Yes, remember, we are talking about two people who have got most of their wedding details completed and checked off the list when their wedding is in Sept 2007 (Afternote: the wedding has been brought forward to June 2007...more of that later). So it shouldn't surprise you that we're talking kids names when they are years from being in the picture.
I realised it was far easier shopping for girls names than boys names.
Me: Elizabeth? Catherine? Very regal eh?
He: Too common
What if it's a boy?
He: Leon. It's French!
Me: Might work if we're in France but not in an English-speaking Australia.
The pronounciation would just be bastardised and any ounce of romanticism in that name would have been yanked out, trampled on deep into the ground. And it really doesn't go with The Honey Bun-neeey's family name.
He: Joseph?
Me: I like the sounds of it. (finally! an agreement!)
He: Yeah, it'll probably get shortened to Joe by his mates at school or work.
Me: Joe?? No. That would be way too common. Like Tom, Dick or Harry.
As you may have guessed, no conclusion has been reached. We have time. But how much time?
I've always wanted to have 5 years of marital bliss before the kids come along (and exhaust us to the point of zero couple-time and romance quotient). And this 5-year plan would be perfect given that The Honey Bun-neeey and Wee Yapper have a long distance relationship (up until the point of marriage) and would need to spend some couple time to ourselves before thinking of expanding the family.
But there's a wee little thing called Age that's working against us. When we get married next year, he will be 36 and I will be 31. If you're good at math, and if we go by the 5-year plan, we'll be 41 and 36 respectively by the time our first child comes along. Not good.
1) Given the countless studies made of women in their late thirties having children, there is an unhealthy number of them who have had difficult pregnancies or complications.
2) The child may be at a higher risk of a host of health problems.
3) As parents, The Honey Bun-neeey and the Wee Yapper will be gasping for air trying to keep up with their child as they play ball in the backyard (if we have one!) because by then, I'd be pushing forty and The Honey Bun-neeey would be looking at his retirement years!
4) The Honey Bun-neeey and the Wee Yapper will need to be wheeled to their child's graduation. From pre-school.
Erm....it does look like I'm going to have to re-think this 5-year plan because I'm not in a position to be selfish. But is it being selfish to want time to ourselves, a luxury we don't/didn't have as a couple in a long-distance relationship? Maybe a 3-year plan?
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Outdated Updates Updated - The One About Wedding Shopping
As the title says, these are outdated updates updated. And yes, there are a few of them. I will try to bring you up to date in chronological order - I love order, but we will get to that in the later part of this post.
Back in August, when The Honey Bun-neeey was here, he and the Wee Yapper were wedding shopping and apart from exhausting ourselves to the point of ...err....exhaustion, we have managed to book our wedding gown for the photoshoot, have found out the advantages of renting an off-the-rack suit and have even bought my wedding sarees!!! I am just thrilled to bitties!!! And yes, I will go all out to say this about my gown and sarees: I LOOK GORGEOUS IN THEM!!!
There will be no photos of the beautiful me in my beautiful outfits for now, not until after the wedding. Because that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? Yes, it's true what you've heard. It's all about the bride. And I will admit to it, I want people to look at me and say, "WOW!!! She looks ravishing!!!" I am shameless. I will admit to that too.
But coming back to wedding shopping, the Honey Bun-neeey and Wee Yapper have met with a number of people whom we have shortlisted for their wedding services. And after days and weeks of talking about our options, we have managed to check off a number of things on our To Do list, including photographer and make-up artist.
Jonathan Ho of Expressively Joho is thankfully available on our wedding day. Apart from ooozing with talent, the chap is very down to earth and heaps funny. He was able to make my Honey Bun-neeey feel at ease from the word "go!" and I thought that was very important because you truly do need to feel comfortable with someone who'd be taking photos of you and portraying those tender moments between a couple.
Shanthi Ayavoo came recommended too. She's a make-up artist for StyleMart's yearly fashion shows and works very closely with the store and their clients. Although we weren't impressed with how she 1) was late for our appointment (to her credit, she did sms to say she'd be running late) and 2) got the meeting venue wrong, I will go all out to say this, we were impressed with her passion for her work, how she has runway experience, and from the works she's done, she knows how to work her colour palette.
Many have asked why the rush? Well, between now and the wedding, the Honey Bun-neeey will only be making another 1-2 other visits to Singapore. And these visits will stretch up to 10 days at most. So given that we don't want to leave everything to the last minute and much prefer to do things together, now's the time to start the ball rolling. And yes, it's true he's half-German (think organised, orderly, and clockwork timing) and I'm Singaporean (think organised, orderly, and alright, so I don't have clockwork timing but I get a spaz attack when things take ages to get done!). Don't we make the perfect pair - grumpy and hyperventilating when things are not *altogether now* organised or orderly!!
Back in August, when The Honey Bun-neeey was here, he and the Wee Yapper were wedding shopping and apart from exhausting ourselves to the point of ...err....exhaustion, we have managed to book our wedding gown for the photoshoot, have found out the advantages of renting an off-the-rack suit and have even bought my wedding sarees!!! I am just thrilled to bitties!!! And yes, I will go all out to say this about my gown and sarees: I LOOK GORGEOUS IN THEM!!!
There will be no photos of the beautiful me in my beautiful outfits for now, not until after the wedding. Because that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it? Yes, it's true what you've heard. It's all about the bride. And I will admit to it, I want people to look at me and say, "WOW!!! She looks ravishing!!!" I am shameless. I will admit to that too.
But coming back to wedding shopping, the Honey Bun-neeey and Wee Yapper have met with a number of people whom we have shortlisted for their wedding services. And after days and weeks of talking about our options, we have managed to check off a number of things on our To Do list, including photographer and make-up artist.
Jonathan Ho of Expressively Joho is thankfully available on our wedding day. Apart from ooozing with talent, the chap is very down to earth and heaps funny. He was able to make my Honey Bun-neeey feel at ease from the word "go!" and I thought that was very important because you truly do need to feel comfortable with someone who'd be taking photos of you and portraying those tender moments between a couple.
Shanthi Ayavoo came recommended too. She's a make-up artist for StyleMart's yearly fashion shows and works very closely with the store and their clients. Although we weren't impressed with how she 1) was late for our appointment (to her credit, she did sms to say she'd be running late) and 2) got the meeting venue wrong, I will go all out to say this, we were impressed with her passion for her work, how she has runway experience, and from the works she's done, she knows how to work her colour palette.
Many have asked why the rush? Well, between now and the wedding, the Honey Bun-neeey will only be making another 1-2 other visits to Singapore. And these visits will stretch up to 10 days at most. So given that we don't want to leave everything to the last minute and much prefer to do things together, now's the time to start the ball rolling. And yes, it's true he's half-German (think organised, orderly, and clockwork timing) and I'm Singaporean (think organised, orderly, and alright, so I don't have clockwork timing but I get a spaz attack when things take ages to get done!). Don't we make the perfect pair - grumpy and hyperventilating when things are not *altogether now* organised or orderly!!
Friday, September 01, 2006
Exactly One Year After
One year ago, on 13 August 2005, we met in person for the first time. After 5 months of fervent writing, emails that sometimes went up to 4 a day, and letters delivered by the trusty postman, we met each other for the first time at the New Park Hotel Lobby. He walked up to me and asked, “You must be Rany.” To which I turned round and smiled, “Yes”.
Exactly one year later, on 13 August 2006, I said yes again. But this time, to a different question.
We were at Coffee Club next to Somerset MRT, having a drink and wondering what we could possibly do with our afternoon when all the bridal boutiques we had set out to go see were either closed or not accepting appointments for the afternoon. In between sips of an Iced Coffee (him) and a seriously-diluted Mango Tango (me) and scraping scoops of melted chocolate off the Chocolate Fondue plate, he suggested we go to the National Orchid Garden in the Botanic Gardens. I looked at the time and said it was getting too late.
He pressed on. I reasoned with him that by the time we get there it’d be getting too dark to see anything. We moved on to talk about other things.
Then he asked about the Orchid Garden again. This time, I told him that the gates to the Garden might already be closed by the time we get there. He knew I had a point (like I always do) and decided to let it go. The conversation drifted to other topics again.
Then he suggests going up to the Fort Canning Park. I asked, “What for??” His desperate reply was, “It’ll be nice to see the city lights from up there”.
It was then that I caught on.
Me: I’m going to get mah ri-ing!
He: No, you’re not.
Me: I’m going to get mah ri-ing!!
He: No, you’re not.
Me: I’m going to get mah ri-ing!!!
He: (cannot help but laugh) No, you’re not going to get your ring!!!
So shortly after, we made our way up to the Fort Canning Park. After a breathtaking climb (quite literally it was breathtaking – we were like two asthmatic hypochondriacs even before we had reached the top of the hill!), we found a bench to sit on.
I put my feet up on the bench and it was just lovely sitting there, chatting about our future, the lady of the manor, our plans, the lady of the manor, what we set out to do the next few days, the lady of the manor, etc, etc. It was also cute how our chat was interrupted by a friendly furry. At first all we could hear were the patter of little feet. They were too fast and too many to sound like a regular toddler. We looked around but there was nothing. The patter, however, was getting nearer. And then from around the bend, a friendly furry came running up to us. Like long-time friends, he jumped on us and started licking away. But it all came to end too soon when his owner appeared and led him away. Poor furry. I think he liked us. But alright, enough rambling.
It was getting dark and the Honey Bun-neeey rose from the bench, took my sandals and positioned them on the pavement. I asked, “Are we going already?" There was no answer except for a smile. He then lowered himself on my sandals and that’s when I realized what was about to happen. A huge grin crept across my face and I started to laugh cheekily. He tried in vain to stop me and after what must have seemed an eternity for him, he finally succeeded in calming me down.
That’s when he asked me, with a gorgeous ring, if I would like to spend the rest of my life with him. I said yes to him. Exactly one year after we met for the first time.
Exactly one year later, on 13 August 2006, I said yes again. But this time, to a different question.
We were at Coffee Club next to Somerset MRT, having a drink and wondering what we could possibly do with our afternoon when all the bridal boutiques we had set out to go see were either closed or not accepting appointments for the afternoon. In between sips of an Iced Coffee (him) and a seriously-diluted Mango Tango (me) and scraping scoops of melted chocolate off the Chocolate Fondue plate, he suggested we go to the National Orchid Garden in the Botanic Gardens. I looked at the time and said it was getting too late.
He pressed on. I reasoned with him that by the time we get there it’d be getting too dark to see anything. We moved on to talk about other things.
Then he asked about the Orchid Garden again. This time, I told him that the gates to the Garden might already be closed by the time we get there. He knew I had a point (like I always do) and decided to let it go. The conversation drifted to other topics again.
Then he suggests going up to the Fort Canning Park. I asked, “What for??” His desperate reply was, “It’ll be nice to see the city lights from up there”.
It was then that I caught on.
Me: I’m going to get mah ri-ing!
He: No, you’re not.
Me: I’m going to get mah ri-ing!!
He: No, you’re not.
Me: I’m going to get mah ri-ing!!!
He: (cannot help but laugh) No, you’re not going to get your ring!!!
So shortly after, we made our way up to the Fort Canning Park. After a breathtaking climb (quite literally it was breathtaking – we were like two asthmatic hypochondriacs even before we had reached the top of the hill!), we found a bench to sit on.
I put my feet up on the bench and it was just lovely sitting there, chatting about our future, the lady of the manor, our plans, the lady of the manor, what we set out to do the next few days, the lady of the manor, etc, etc. It was also cute how our chat was interrupted by a friendly furry. At first all we could hear were the patter of little feet. They were too fast and too many to sound like a regular toddler. We looked around but there was nothing. The patter, however, was getting nearer. And then from around the bend, a friendly furry came running up to us. Like long-time friends, he jumped on us and started licking away. But it all came to end too soon when his owner appeared and led him away. Poor furry. I think he liked us. But alright, enough rambling.
It was getting dark and the Honey Bun-neeey rose from the bench, took my sandals and positioned them on the pavement. I asked, “Are we going already?" There was no answer except for a smile. He then lowered himself on my sandals and that’s when I realized what was about to happen. A huge grin crept across my face and I started to laugh cheekily. He tried in vain to stop me and after what must have seemed an eternity for him, he finally succeeded in calming me down.
That’s when he asked me, with a gorgeous ring, if I would like to spend the rest of my life with him. I said yes to him. Exactly one year after we met for the first time.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
It's The Little Things Friends Do For You
A few weeks ago I sms-ed two girlfriends to tell them the exciting news of when I'd be getting married. But I wasn't quite expecting the sort of reactions that I received.
Both had responded with sms-s. I was hoping for a girlfriend shrieking in excitement and joy on the other end of the line. I was hoping for at least a call to say, "Hey, that's fab news!!! We're so happy for you!!! What do you need us to do? The flowers? The decor? The music? Can we be bridesmaids? Are you doing this at a temple or church? Is there going to be a wedding in Singapore and then another in Perth?" I had thought that when one of us is planning to get married, we'd all throw our hands in the air, volunteering enthusiastically our help to do this and that.
But no, they were sms-s responses. One sent her congratulations and the other, apart from sending her congrats, also said to give them a ring if I needed help with wedding preps.
What was more disappointing (there's more?) was when I had asked the #1 to be my wedding coordinator, she declined and said that the second friend, #2, was a much better bet since she's been married before, she'd know what to do.
A) I never knew you had to be a missus to be a wedding coordinator.
#1 had actually helped #2 with her wedding last year. But she added that it was the couple running the show and she helped do whatever the couple had asked. I told #1 that was all I needed as well, and maybe a little help along the way with the know-hows of an Indian traditional wedding. But she insisted she knew nothing about such.
B) It was disappointing to hear that from her especially since no one could possibly know less than me (a wee yapper who comes from a family who can't even communicate in the language let alone practice all its traditions), and her Aussie-bloke fiancé.
I saw this wasn't going anywhere and it would be pointless in having a less than enthusiastic wedding coordinator so I said thanks and left it at that.
The whole exchange left me feeling very upset and disappointed. If your girlfriends (chicks you consider to be your mates and whom you hold to close to your heart) are not thrilled for you, what then? Somehow I cannot help but wonder, if you're the first in a circle of friends to get married, the excitement level just tips the scale. As you go round that circle of friends, as each one gets married, the excitement level starts to wane. Is it because we're getting older and are incapable of the enthusiasm that we once felt over a friend getting married? Is it because the notion of singlehood is more depressing than ever when you hear of yet another friend getting married? Not true, on both counts, as was illustrated by another group of girlfriends recently.
4 of them. One has been married barely a month, another about to pop her first child in barely a month, the other has been having a very bad year with family illnesses and the possible fact that she could be at risk too, and the fourth has been busy jetting back and forth between countries and working hard at her job. They have shown how thrilled to bitties they are for me, from talk about what colour sarees they ought to wear, who's going to be bridesmaid, who's doing the music, etc. They even rallied round me, even when they had more pressing matters on their mind, just so that they can join me on a Saturday evening to look at wedding gowns. Before that, two of them came all the way to the North (nobody comes up this way!) to a bridal boutique just so that they can give me their two cents worth on the designs the boutique had. They risked getting lost, vehicle clamps and $200 fines, and even the mother of all inconveniences - PMS, just so that they could be there for me.
I keep thanking them for being there for me because I truly do appreciate it. Granted, it's not like I've been diagnosed with a terminal illness. But I do appreciate the fact that they are making all this time for wee me. And it really warms my heart that I do have friends who are enthusiastic for me and who want to share in our joy. I am blessed.
Both had responded with sms-s. I was hoping for a girlfriend shrieking in excitement and joy on the other end of the line. I was hoping for at least a call to say, "Hey, that's fab news!!! We're so happy for you!!! What do you need us to do? The flowers? The decor? The music? Can we be bridesmaids? Are you doing this at a temple or church? Is there going to be a wedding in Singapore and then another in Perth?" I had thought that when one of us is planning to get married, we'd all throw our hands in the air, volunteering enthusiastically our help to do this and that.
But no, they were sms-s responses. One sent her congratulations and the other, apart from sending her congrats, also said to give them a ring if I needed help with wedding preps.
What was more disappointing (there's more?) was when I had asked the #1 to be my wedding coordinator, she declined and said that the second friend, #2, was a much better bet since she's been married before, she'd know what to do.
A) I never knew you had to be a missus to be a wedding coordinator.
#1 had actually helped #2 with her wedding last year. But she added that it was the couple running the show and she helped do whatever the couple had asked. I told #1 that was all I needed as well, and maybe a little help along the way with the know-hows of an Indian traditional wedding. But she insisted she knew nothing about such.
B) It was disappointing to hear that from her especially since no one could possibly know less than me (a wee yapper who comes from a family who can't even communicate in the language let alone practice all its traditions), and her Aussie-bloke fiancé.
I saw this wasn't going anywhere and it would be pointless in having a less than enthusiastic wedding coordinator so I said thanks and left it at that.
The whole exchange left me feeling very upset and disappointed. If your girlfriends (chicks you consider to be your mates and whom you hold to close to your heart) are not thrilled for you, what then? Somehow I cannot help but wonder, if you're the first in a circle of friends to get married, the excitement level just tips the scale. As you go round that circle of friends, as each one gets married, the excitement level starts to wane. Is it because we're getting older and are incapable of the enthusiasm that we once felt over a friend getting married? Is it because the notion of singlehood is more depressing than ever when you hear of yet another friend getting married? Not true, on both counts, as was illustrated by another group of girlfriends recently.
4 of them. One has been married barely a month, another about to pop her first child in barely a month, the other has been having a very bad year with family illnesses and the possible fact that she could be at risk too, and the fourth has been busy jetting back and forth between countries and working hard at her job. They have shown how thrilled to bitties they are for me, from talk about what colour sarees they ought to wear, who's going to be bridesmaid, who's doing the music, etc. They even rallied round me, even when they had more pressing matters on their mind, just so that they can join me on a Saturday evening to look at wedding gowns. Before that, two of them came all the way to the North (nobody comes up this way!) to a bridal boutique just so that they can give me their two cents worth on the designs the boutique had. They risked getting lost, vehicle clamps and $200 fines, and even the mother of all inconveniences - PMS, just so that they could be there for me.
I keep thanking them for being there for me because I truly do appreciate it. Granted, it's not like I've been diagnosed with a terminal illness. But I do appreciate the fact that they are making all this time for wee me. And it really warms my heart that I do have friends who are enthusiastic for me and who want to share in our joy. I am blessed.
Like Mother, Like Daughter? Noooooooo!!!
It has been a while since I last posted. So much has happened! First, the good news. My Honey Bun-neeey and I now know when we're getting married!!! But how we got to know of the news is a story in itself.
The Lady of the Manor had told me that she wanted to write to my Honey Bun-neeey and that she needed help in vetting the letter for language mistakes. The first thought that came to mind was that she was jealous of how I was writing to my HB's mom and family. Well, you can't really blame me because just weeks before the Lady of the Manor threw a maniacal fit when I didn't tell her about my HB's mom's gallstone surgery. She even suggested it's because I wanted to keep a distance between them. I roll my eyes. The imagination runs wild. But it's scaring me. Is this where I get my vivid imagination from?!
Anyhow, as I was vetting the letter, it went on to say when our most feasible *wedding dates would be. Alright, for those of you who are crying out against the lack of freedom in choosing one's own wedding dates, you might be interested to read the afternote at the end of this post. For the rest who are crying out against the manner in which I had to learn about my own wedding dates, I say "spot on"!
Whatever happened to good ol' communicating? Sitting down over a meal or a cup of tea or at breakfast, and telling me in person about having found good dates for our wedding? Why is that the only way she can tell me of the dates is to get me to vet the letter she's writing to my HB? This just puts the icing on the Ridiculusmus Cake!
I keep telling my Honey Bun-neeey that if I'm in danger of turning out to be like her, then he should sit me down immediately and tell me off. His response? He asked, "But will you listen to me?" Oh oh.... the danger signs are showing already.
How many times have we told ourselves we are NEVER going to turn out like our mom or dad?? Although it's a scientific fact that we inherit physical characteristics from our parents, how often do we inherit behavioural traits? Can we resist inheriting behavioural traits? Can we say yes to some and toss those embarrassing/ridiculus ones into the rejected pile?
Oh, yes, I almost forgot. So what were the dates mentioned in the letter? June 2007 or September 2007. Other than being terribly excited (read: jumping about in my skin), I was actually gloating when I read it. Yeah, the unmistakable and signature cheeky Wee Yapper grin creeped across my face. I couldn't help it.
It was a slap in the Lady of the Manor's face because there she was, a few weeks ago, ranting about how Indian weddings only take place from January to April each year and the months outside this period is just inauspicious. But here's proof, from a higher power above us (read: the faithful ol' astrologer at the temple), and from the stars above, that Indian weddings do take place throughout the year, and infact, our auspicious dates fall outside this January - April illusion that the Lady of the Manor holds very strongly to. It's a slap in her face because she simply won't listen to me or the people close to her. She needs someone with more authority to tell her the very same thing, and only then will she listen. The message is essentially the same, but because it comes from someone else, it's more worthy of listening. That, unfortunately, is the Lady of the Manor.
But moving on from that, the Honey Bun-neeey and I have discussed the pros and cons of a June 07 and a Sept 07 wedding, and we have both decided that a Sept 07 wedding is best suited for our plans.
So yes, friends, the Honey Bun-neeey and the Wee Yapper will be joined in a beautiful union in September 2007.
*Wedding Dates - You must be baffled about how it's the parent to come up with appropriate wedding dates for the bride/groom. Well, here's a piece of cultural byte: According to Indian customary traditions, the parents of the bride/groom consults an astrologer for auspicious wedding dates based on the couple's birth date and time. Hence, that is what the Lady of the Manor did.
The Lady of the Manor had told me that she wanted to write to my Honey Bun-neeey and that she needed help in vetting the letter for language mistakes. The first thought that came to mind was that she was jealous of how I was writing to my HB's mom and family. Well, you can't really blame me because just weeks before the Lady of the Manor threw a maniacal fit when I didn't tell her about my HB's mom's gallstone surgery. She even suggested it's because I wanted to keep a distance between them. I roll my eyes. The imagination runs wild. But it's scaring me. Is this where I get my vivid imagination from?!
Anyhow, as I was vetting the letter, it went on to say when our most feasible *wedding dates would be. Alright, for those of you who are crying out against the lack of freedom in choosing one's own wedding dates, you might be interested to read the afternote at the end of this post. For the rest who are crying out against the manner in which I had to learn about my own wedding dates, I say "spot on"!
Whatever happened to good ol' communicating? Sitting down over a meal or a cup of tea or at breakfast, and telling me in person about having found good dates for our wedding? Why is that the only way she can tell me of the dates is to get me to vet the letter she's writing to my HB? This just puts the icing on the Ridiculusmus Cake!
I keep telling my Honey Bun-neeey that if I'm in danger of turning out to be like her, then he should sit me down immediately and tell me off. His response? He asked, "But will you listen to me?" Oh oh.... the danger signs are showing already.
How many times have we told ourselves we are NEVER going to turn out like our mom or dad?? Although it's a scientific fact that we inherit physical characteristics from our parents, how often do we inherit behavioural traits? Can we resist inheriting behavioural traits? Can we say yes to some and toss those embarrassing/ridiculus ones into the rejected pile?
Oh, yes, I almost forgot. So what were the dates mentioned in the letter? June 2007 or September 2007. Other than being terribly excited (read: jumping about in my skin), I was actually gloating when I read it. Yeah, the unmistakable and signature cheeky Wee Yapper grin creeped across my face. I couldn't help it.
It was a slap in the Lady of the Manor's face because there she was, a few weeks ago, ranting about how Indian weddings only take place from January to April each year and the months outside this period is just inauspicious. But here's proof, from a higher power above us (read: the faithful ol' astrologer at the temple), and from the stars above, that Indian weddings do take place throughout the year, and infact, our auspicious dates fall outside this January - April illusion that the Lady of the Manor holds very strongly to. It's a slap in her face because she simply won't listen to me or the people close to her. She needs someone with more authority to tell her the very same thing, and only then will she listen. The message is essentially the same, but because it comes from someone else, it's more worthy of listening. That, unfortunately, is the Lady of the Manor.
But moving on from that, the Honey Bun-neeey and I have discussed the pros and cons of a June 07 and a Sept 07 wedding, and we have both decided that a Sept 07 wedding is best suited for our plans.
So yes, friends, the Honey Bun-neeey and the Wee Yapper will be joined in a beautiful union in September 2007.
*Wedding Dates - You must be baffled about how it's the parent to come up with appropriate wedding dates for the bride/groom. Well, here's a piece of cultural byte: According to Indian customary traditions, the parents of the bride/groom consults an astrologer for auspicious wedding dates based on the couple's birth date and time. Hence, that is what the Lady of the Manor did.
Out of Touch
What happens when you get a call from a girlfriend whom you haven't heard in ages? Wouldn't you be thrilled??? I would have been too. Except, she opened the conversation with "You are THE MOST DIFFICULT WOMAN to reach!!!!" Naturally, I was annoyed. It felt like an accusation was being thrown my way. Etiquette bestsellers (has any etiquette book made it as a bestseller??) don't tell you this but you don't open a conversation with that.
Apparently she had been trying to reach me since April but I always missed her calls. I thought that was just a tad bit strange because if she had been trying to reach me on my mobile phone, I know I'd have missed her call. Perhaps she always called from her office, which then would have been difficult to trace because it's a running line and not a direct number. But that brought me to my next question. Why didn't she sms me then??? She tried evading this question which I found a wee bit odd.
I remember waiting for her to get back to me about meeting up with my Honey Bun-neeey when he was last here in April but she never did. I distinctly recall the mild disappointment in my voice when I told my Honey Bun-neeey that I hadn't heard from her nor her husband. But we brushed it off, attributing the fact that it would be hard to fix up something with them to the short time that my HB was going to be in Singapore.
Coming back to the conversation with this friend in question, it didn't get off to a great start and it left a sour aftertaste in my mouth. I didn't understand her behaviour during the conversation. It was friendly, but it was accusational nonetheless. Was she trying to pull a fast one to mask the fact that she had been out of touch? Why? Is this all because she's embarrassed to say that she fell out of touch for a while? I would see no reason to be embarrassed. I think we have reached an age where we understand and respect that each one of us have got our own thing going that keeping in touch, is although a constant, doesn't have to be as regular as it was. I respect that, especially with this particular friend. She's recently married so I understand that she's got new perspectives in her life now and it's important for her to spend time working on her relationship that has just entered a new level.
So there is no need for this drama. Being out of touch is not an issue. The fact that a friend does call means much more. It shows that although he or she has been busy, you're not forgotten.
Apparently she had been trying to reach me since April but I always missed her calls. I thought that was just a tad bit strange because if she had been trying to reach me on my mobile phone, I know I'd have missed her call. Perhaps she always called from her office, which then would have been difficult to trace because it's a running line and not a direct number. But that brought me to my next question. Why didn't she sms me then??? She tried evading this question which I found a wee bit odd.
I remember waiting for her to get back to me about meeting up with my Honey Bun-neeey when he was last here in April but she never did. I distinctly recall the mild disappointment in my voice when I told my Honey Bun-neeey that I hadn't heard from her nor her husband. But we brushed it off, attributing the fact that it would be hard to fix up something with them to the short time that my HB was going to be in Singapore.
Coming back to the conversation with this friend in question, it didn't get off to a great start and it left a sour aftertaste in my mouth. I didn't understand her behaviour during the conversation. It was friendly, but it was accusational nonetheless. Was she trying to pull a fast one to mask the fact that she had been out of touch? Why? Is this all because she's embarrassed to say that she fell out of touch for a while? I would see no reason to be embarrassed. I think we have reached an age where we understand and respect that each one of us have got our own thing going that keeping in touch, is although a constant, doesn't have to be as regular as it was. I respect that, especially with this particular friend. She's recently married so I understand that she's got new perspectives in her life now and it's important for her to spend time working on her relationship that has just entered a new level.
So there is no need for this drama. Being out of touch is not an issue. The fact that a friend does call means much more. It shows that although he or she has been busy, you're not forgotten.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Drool Moment: Steven Gerrard
Yes, the captain and midfielder of Liverpool FC. While I'll admit he's great onfield, he is just an absolut dreamboat in the recent Carlsberg ad!!! That melting smile, that burning look of concentration, those legs that could go on forever, that... oh, sorry, where was I? Ah yes, the ad. Take a look and decide for yourself.
Credit: YouTube
Although I'm a Heineken chick, and they have an excellent pool of creative executives to give you the best beer catchy ads in the universe, I'm going with Carlsberg just this once! Excuse me, it's the hormones talking.
Credit: YouTube
Although I'm a Heineken chick, and they have an excellent pool of creative executives to give you the best beer catchy ads in the universe, I'm going with Carlsberg just this once! Excuse me, it's the hormones talking.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Verdict: This Weekend
This Weekend: Good. The past two evenings I have been catching up with some good friends. Khush, who now is living it up in Seattle working for one of the biggest IT giants, Microsoft, is in town for 2 weeks. It was massively fun catching up with him. He was selling us the working culture of Microsoft, not that we had a Masters in Computer Science or anything, but it made for a hell of an entertaining evening. Also there were Put-your-hands-in-the-air, not-on-my-butt Cliff, Inquisitive Ivy, Derek-is-soooo-not-funny Jill, and erm...well, Derek.
And last night, Jill and I caught up with Sophia. The mother-to-be of Megan Isobelle Tan. Yeah, that's the name that Jill and I have discussed and determined Sophia's little girlie will have. Sophia was brimming with joy and it was smiles and laughter all round the table. Even when we were talking about the antics of the Lady of the Manor (see previous post) and the cruel but impending task of wearing a clinical white top and skirt at Joanne's wedding.
But although the catching up with friends was good, I'm missing my honey bun-neeey. Yes, he and the Union Thug are one and the same. My honey bun-neey has been in Melbourne this past week for work and although there's still the same physical distance between us, for some strange reason, I miss him. Why is that? I don't really know. I know that he has been trying to write me as much as possible though. Every chance he gets.
Although, he has passed up on writing me a decent-length email for literally, a walk in the park. The botanical gardens, to be exact. So he has been told that he will have to do everything he possibly can to redeem himself. The poor bun-neeey, he has a tough life with The Wee Yapper ahead of him. Baby, if you're reading this, I'm still waitiiiiiiiing......... Hee!
And last night, Jill and I caught up with Sophia. The mother-to-be of Megan Isobelle Tan. Yeah, that's the name that Jill and I have discussed and determined Sophia's little girlie will have. Sophia was brimming with joy and it was smiles and laughter all round the table. Even when we were talking about the antics of the Lady of the Manor (see previous post) and the cruel but impending task of wearing a clinical white top and skirt at Joanne's wedding.
But although the catching up with friends was good, I'm missing my honey bun-neeey. Yes, he and the Union Thug are one and the same. My honey bun-neey has been in Melbourne this past week for work and although there's still the same physical distance between us, for some strange reason, I miss him. Why is that? I don't really know. I know that he has been trying to write me as much as possible though. Every chance he gets.
Although, he has passed up on writing me a decent-length email for literally, a walk in the park. The botanical gardens, to be exact. So he has been told that he will have to do everything he possibly can to redeem himself. The poor bun-neeey, he has a tough life with The Wee Yapper ahead of him. Baby, if you're reading this, I'm still waitiiiiiiiing......... Hee!
Verdict: Last Weekend
Last Weekend: Not Good. The Lady of the Manor was driving The Wee Yapper up the wall. There are 2 pictures I can't get out of my head.
Picture #1: If The Wee Yapper had claws and teeth like a beaver and a termite's gastronomical taste, it'd be like this: The Wee Yapper would clawing down and munching through the walls of the manor in order to escape ANY talk of THE wedding.
Picture #2:
Please do not ask me to explain how Picture #2 found its way into my head. It's surreal escapism, if you will. I really am quite harmless. You must believe me.
Back to The Lady of the Manor. It has come to the point where she sorely lacks any semblance of the capacity to comprehend. The Wee Yapper feels like Jackie Chan's character in Rush Hour 2 where he yells "Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?"
Let's see, I can make a list of the things we do not agree on the wedding:
Date of THE wedding:
She: 2008 ("Indians don't marry outside the months of Jan-Apr")
Me: That's ridiculous. Loads of Indian couples get married from May - Dec too.
She: No. No. No.
Me: So let's have it in April 2007 then.
She: That's too soon. Nobody plans a wedding in less than a year.
Me: No, everyone can plan it within a year. Just not you.
She: You just want the wedding next year, that's all. No one but you.
A Banquet
She: We'll have a wedding banquet.
Me: No. No, hotel wedding banquets. That's traditionally a Chinese practice.
She: No, everyone does it.
Me: Yes, but it started as a Chinese practice and now it's catching on. But we don't want that.
She: But your brother had it for his wedding. So it'll only be fair that you have one too.
Me: Fair? It's OK, I don't mind not having one.
She: No, we'll have one.
Me: [exasperated] Fine, just not at a hotel. It'll be at a tasteful Indian restaurant.
The Day of the Banquet
She: Maybe it'll be a few days after the temple wedding. Or if we're lucky, the day after the wedding.
Me: It won't be fair for his family and friends. They won't be able to do that. They're only flying down for a couple of days, not a week or anything more than that.
She: That's nonsense. Of course they are.
Me: Listen to me. I'm telling you that they aren't.
She: You're negative about everything. Of course they'll be in town for more than a few days.
These are not the exact words of the conversation. Only because it's too traumatic to repeat the conversation in all its entirety. But the essence of it has been captured, I reckon.
So it has been agreed that The Wee Yapper will avoid all talk of THE wedding with the Lady of the Manor until the Union Thug gets into town in August to negotiate wedding terms with her. Because it is quite plain to see that The Lady of the Manor will not listen to a word that The WeeYapper has to say, even if this IS The Wee Yapper's wedding!! Grrrr..........
Picture #1: If The Wee Yapper had claws and teeth like a beaver and a termite's gastronomical taste, it'd be like this: The Wee Yapper would clawing down and munching through the walls of the manor in order to escape ANY talk of THE wedding.
Picture #2:
Please do not ask me to explain how Picture #2 found its way into my head. It's surreal escapism, if you will. I really am quite harmless. You must believe me.
Back to The Lady of the Manor. It has come to the point where she sorely lacks any semblance of the capacity to comprehend. The Wee Yapper feels like Jackie Chan's character in Rush Hour 2 where he yells "Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?"
Let's see, I can make a list of the things we do not agree on the wedding:
Date of THE wedding:
She: 2008 ("Indians don't marry outside the months of Jan-Apr")
Me: That's ridiculous. Loads of Indian couples get married from May - Dec too.
She: No. No. No.
Me: So let's have it in April 2007 then.
She: That's too soon. Nobody plans a wedding in less than a year.
Me: No, everyone can plan it within a year. Just not you.
She: You just want the wedding next year, that's all. No one but you.
A Banquet
She: We'll have a wedding banquet.
Me: No. No, hotel wedding banquets. That's traditionally a Chinese practice.
She: No, everyone does it.
Me: Yes, but it started as a Chinese practice and now it's catching on. But we don't want that.
She: But your brother had it for his wedding. So it'll only be fair that you have one too.
Me: Fair? It's OK, I don't mind not having one.
She: No, we'll have one.
Me: [exasperated] Fine, just not at a hotel. It'll be at a tasteful Indian restaurant.
The Day of the Banquet
She: Maybe it'll be a few days after the temple wedding. Or if we're lucky, the day after the wedding.
Me: It won't be fair for his family and friends. They won't be able to do that. They're only flying down for a couple of days, not a week or anything more than that.
She: That's nonsense. Of course they are.
Me: Listen to me. I'm telling you that they aren't.
She: You're negative about everything. Of course they'll be in town for more than a few days.
These are not the exact words of the conversation. Only because it's too traumatic to repeat the conversation in all its entirety. But the essence of it has been captured, I reckon.
So it has been agreed that The Wee Yapper will avoid all talk of THE wedding with the Lady of the Manor until the Union Thug gets into town in August to negotiate wedding terms with her. Because it is quite plain to see that The Lady of the Manor will not listen to a word that The WeeYapper has to say, even if this IS The Wee Yapper's wedding!! Grrrr..........
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Introducing The Wee Yapper
This little blog spot has been created to follow the trails and antics of The Wee Yapper. Does anyone care? We don't know. Does anyone bother to read these antics? We don't know. Is this all about self-glorification? Very likely. Regardless, The Wee Yapper continues on her big and bigger adventures and tells the whole world about it.
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