FROM MY PERSPECTIVE

I know that the Royal Wedding has been a major discussion item since before the engagement was announced, so why can't I give my five cents? I grew up like many girls in Britain and America pretending to be a princess, wishing I would grow up to be a princess, reading all of the books and watching all of the Disney movies that showed how "common" girls, housekeepers and girls often overlooked and certainly not in the royal caste won the heart of the prince. So I obviously thought that I had a chance at meeting Prince William and getting to be the next Princess of Wales or whatever. Luckily, I came to my senses when I was a bit older and decided to move on to some people who were more attainable. After a while I lost my little crush on the Prince and now just see him as a mildly attractive guy who is balding at a young age, and I fear he will continue to look more like his father as he ages.

I do not know much about Lady Catherine the Duchess (Catherine with a C but Kate with a K...confusing...), but I do envy her style. She is certainly one to watch in my book. I like that she is bringing back hats for everyday occasions, not just the Kentucky Derby, but some of the hats seen today worn by the wedding guests were appalling.

The parties and individual celebrations spanned the globe. People in the U.K. practically slept on the streets and wore British flags and tiaras, people in the U.S. awoke embarrassingly early and held tea parties. Here in Singapore, a former British colony with a ton of British expats, there were celebrations all week. The wedding occurred at 6 p.m. local for me, so I recorded the CNN broadcast and watched portions before, during and after the ceremony. Admittedly, I bought a bottle of champagne (which translates to sparkling white wine because the cheapest champagne bottle was S$92) and drank several glasses in a plastic flute since my Tiffany & Co. flutes are on a boat (stupid boat couldn't have been two days earlier). I bought two mini layered cakes from a local bakery, one strawberry shortcake with whipped icing and one chocolate cake, and I ate both of them while drinking my champagne during the processional and ceremony. I have to say, the strawberry shortcake paired very well.

According to CNN hosts and an article I read today, more than a million people were reported to be on site to watch the events unfold. With more than 30,000 Twitter tweets daily over the last 30 days, U.S. social media chatter more than tripled that of the U.K.'s chatter and more people turned in to watch the wedding than this year's Super Bowl. During the ceremony, those on Twitter tweeted 300 posts per second. People on nearly every continent tuned in to watch the ceremony live.

Because of all the hype and the coverage of the pre-ceremony time, I was expecting much more of the ceremony itself. In my opinion and my friend, Katie's, our weddings were better than this one.

Here is a list of some of my thoughts while watching:

• Who was selected to hang the cameras from the Abbey ceiling to obtain all of those aerial shots? Holy high up there!
• Royals riding in charter buses? Really?
• If I were Prince Harry's girlfriend, Chelsy, I would have asked for a better seat and a later arrival time. 
• Whoa hats. Some were great, but others were just crazy. I find it odd that many of the decorations are on the inside of the hat while the outside is plain - they're backwards. 
• Those women have to know that no one behind them will be able to see anything with those monstrosities. And Posh, that thing isn't even attached to your head. 
• How much would it suck to be one of the 1,900 people invited to attend the wedding and sit in a seat where you could not see anything for the majority of the ceremony? At least the people who slept on the lawn got to watch on a giant TV screen. 
• Kate's sister, Pippa, looks absolutely gorgeous!
• If the queen decides to wear yellow, is that color outlawed for everyone else in attendance?
• Wow that is a long aisle. Kate is a brave girl. That has to be the longest walk of her life. (That was a seven-minute walk btw.)
• What was up with that lady bending down and touching Kate's dress?
• I would not be OK if my husband refused to wear a wedding ring, I don't care who he is. 
• I can't believe that Kate didn't seem to cry at any point. Most brides at least appear to almost cry. I was a blubbering idiot. 
• CNN reported that Kate was supposed to put her bouquet on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Did she forget?

The wedding was nice - a bit over packed, but nice. I was expecting some type of royal items to be included in the ceremony. I thought the Queen would participate. I thought there would be a naming portion to announce the titles. I thought someone would announce them with their titles at the conclusion of the ceremony. Instead, it was a typical wedding with royals attending. I think the pre-wedding processional was more exciting than the ceremony itself. The CNN reporters said, "And that's it," 12 minutes after Kate arrived at the alter - 12 minutes. And then there was singing.

All in all, I am glad I watched. I know that if I have a daughter some day, she will ask about this wedding and what I was doing. So I will tell her I drank champagne and ate cake in honor of the royal occasion. And I liked it.

I HAVEN'T CHANGED

At least my taste hasn't changed. Last week I made spinach fettuccine alfredo, followed by a night of shrimp risotto, followed by spaghetti the next night and, I believe we ended the streak with chicken parmesan because the potatoes were bad, so my idea of fried chicken and mashed potatoes took a turn like a Top Chef curve ball. We had steaks one night and lamb for Easter. The only American things I have not yet made are burgers (in the plan), pizza (in the plan) and fish. I have not yet learned how to take a whole fish, remove the skin and the bones and fillet it so that it looks pretty and edible. I have been watching You Tube videos and the expert Chef Tim Annabell himself will be giving me lessons over Skype, so we know this will be good. I wonder if I can record the session.


Yesterday we received notification that our shipping container is making its way across the world and should arrive in Singapore on May 1. Included in that shipment is our giant American bed, a giant dresser that will not fit into the same room as the giant bed and all of my favorite kitchen equipment - Rachael Ray cookware, Rachael Ray knives, a Keurig coffee machine, a frappucino machine, a Ninja blender, a food processor, a KitchenAid mixer, all of my spices and a whisk, which I miss dearly. It's going to be like Christmas in May!


Now that I have more time at home, I have been taking full advantage of the kitchen. I have made challah bread, two kinds of biscuits, banana bread and chocolate cake - all in the last week. The pancakes I made last week were stellar. I have been making lunch and dinner and sometimes breakfast as well. Those that know me know I love to eat and I love to cook, so this is turning out to be a good thing. When making banana bread yesterday, I realized that I had never made it before. I had eaten it numerous times when friends or family had made the bread, but this was my first attempt. And EEEWWW those bananas grossed me out! I hate mushy things and I am not a fan of bananas to begin with, so holding mushy overripe bananas and trying to peel them while they were mushy in my hands was just terrible. The two breads came out nicely, however. Paul, who likes bananas, took a bite of the bread yesterday when he returned from work but did not realize that he does not like bananas in things until the bread was in his mouth...and then in the trash. Awesome. I found it odd that he will eat bananas straight but not in the bread but, then again, I will only eat bananas if they are pulverized and baked into bread. I would never eat them by themselves or mashed up or even blended in a smoothie with strawberries. So I suppose we are weird.


We have not been surprised by a lot of the local food offerings. Surprisingly, the Chinese places in the U.S. have a great representation of the local fare. Funny enough, the places out here have the same crazy photos of the food plastered on the walls of the restaurants and the hawker stalls. We have come to find chicken rice, for which the country is known, as a safe dish no matter where on the island we may be. There are several variations of chicken rice - roasted, barbecue, lemon. After eating chicken rice nearly every day for a week, I was done. Once we moved into our condo, bought a fridge and some starter cooking equipment, I was ready to eat anything but chicken. I am good for anything in moderation but I certainly know my limit. 


There are a few things on the local menus that Paul and I do not understand. There is a language barrier, especially in the hawkers, so asking questions is not always in our best interest. We need to find a local friend who can interpret and explain exactly what some of this stuff is and then maybe we would be willing to try something new. Paul is quite disturbed that with all of these Chinese places around, they all lack delivery service like in the U.S. I can tell you that in Singapore, McDonald's will deliver with a minimum order of S$20. Get three or four people together and you're good. 


This week Paul will be on two trips, so I will be venturing into new some territories. I have heard about and have been reading about wet markets, so one morning this week I will get up extra early and hit one or two area markets. These wet markets offer the best in fresh produce, meats, fish and flowers, and many of the items are cheaper than one would find in any grocery. I will be sure to have a camera with me when I go. I learned that loyalty to vendors is very important, so selecting a vendor and being a repeat customer is imperative. Forming relationships ensures trust, good products and better pricing and also guarantees a friendly face each time one visits. 


I will also be joining an expatriate supper club and checking out the local library this week. The museums have free admissions on Sundays, so I will be downtown at the art museum this weekend. Sorry for taking a few days off. I will be better this week when reporting on Singapore from my perspective.

LIFE ON THE OTHER SIDE

I am at the point where I can almost tell you what day it is, but don't even think about asking me the date. I haven't known the actual date since we landed on April 1 and it is driving me crazy. I feel like I don't know what is going on and I cannot picture what is happening when. To add more confusion, I have to keep reminding myself that I am on a different schedule than everyone else I know. When I wake up in the mornings, everyone else is a day behind. When I speak with anyone in the States, someone on one end of the conversation is just waking up and someone on the other end is getting ready for bed every time. When I want to speak with someone in the afternoon, most of my friends are in bed. Luckily, I have two friends who are on the Asian schedule and always keep me entertained - Tran-Lam and Fu. I am not sure when they sleep, but I like having someone to talk to during my day.


Paul and I have been roughing it for a little while. We were without Internet for about three days, we are still without a television and I have been without a cell phone since about March 25. We did not have a refrigerator for three days, we were without a washer and dryer for six days, continue to be without a microwave and a toaster, and we will forever be without a dish washer or a garbage disposal. Yet somehow we survive. 


Fortunately, we are one of the few families in Singapore to own an oven. Unfortunately, I hate that oven and want to throw it out the window from the top floor, go down to the ground level, pick up all the pieces and then drop it from the top floor again. I am pretty sure the oven is broken, but we are without a manual and the manufacturer's website does not offer one to download, so I can't be sure. I made a cake this week - OK I attempted to make a cake this week. I poured the batter into my one and only baking dish and set the oven to the only setting that I know works. The outside quickly firmed up but the inside was obviously not done, so I kept checking it every five minutes or so. At one point, I thought the cake looked done so I stuck a knife down into the center of the cake to test the consistency. The first test came out fine, but the second knife test came out with a little goo. I decided there was not enough goo for concern, so I flipped the cake onto a cooling rack so that I could use the baking pan for the rest of the batter. 


Upon flipping, I noticed a little something on the counter...Some chocolate cake batter began seeping out the knife holes from my tests and immediately went all over the counter. When I went to bring the baking pan back up, the top half of the cake flipped out of the pan, leaving the bottom half in the pan and cake batter pouring out all over the counter. I can't say that I was frustrated because I have come to hate my oven after several failed baking attempts. I ultimately knew this would happen, or the cake would burn or something. So I decided to rename the cake as my chocolate lava cake and dumped the chunks and the gooey cake batter still in the pan into one of my mixing bowls. I had some of this lava cake after dinner tonight and it was great. If I had a microwave, I would put a little bit onto a plate tomorrow and heat some up for an afternoon snack, but alas, I am without a microwave.


Paul left me yesterday for a three-day trip to Indonesia, so I have the house and a list of To Dos all to myself. I realized after two days on my own that not having Paul here is different than it was in the States. Back in the U.S., work dominated my life so it's not like I was sitting around all day wondering what to do next. I worked 12 to 15 hours and would come home, make myself dinner and go to bed. Now, I wake up and wonder what I should do by myself. Part of me does not want to go exploring because I know Paul would like to do these things or see the places as well. Luckily, I have a massive To Do list to keep me occupied this week. But, until we receive visa information, I am on a limited budget. That's right, we're still waiting...


Amazingly, I have accomplished more in two days than I believe I had in the year and a halfish I lived in Columbus. Running errands in record time, figuring out how to set up Internet in our new place, sweeping and mopping floors, rearranging furniture six times because it never looks right the first two, baking two loaves of bread, baking a cake (sort of) because I need chocolate, cleaning the kitchen after all of my baking and dinner making and washing and drying four loads of laundry because we finally got a washer and dryer yesterday. Before Paul left, he decided that he liked it better when I was working and taking BlackBerry calls and e-mails. I told him I liked it better when he was mopping floors, so I think we have a deal. 


Today while cleaning, I had a chance to catch up on some American TV through our Slingbox. This device is hooked up to Paul's parents' cable at their home in Ohio and allows us to tap into the cable box via the Internet. I tapped in today and watched one new and some old NY Housewives and I caught an episode of Rosie Pope's new show. I have to say, I rolled my eyes and wanted to vomit in my mouth when I heard about her reality show assisting Manhattan's millionaire moms to be. After watching today (remember this is the middle of the night for America and early afternoon for me), I seem to like Mrs. Pope. She has balls. I never would have imagined that the soft, refined woman I had seen on an episode of Bethenny Frankel's show last season would be the type to walk into a woman's house and call her out like she did on the episode I watched today. She was supporting a woman in her last month of pregnancy who had recently been diagnosed with gestational diabetes because the formerly-100-pound woman gained 80 pounds during her pregnancy (God help me when I get pregnant). Watching Rosie call the woman out for overeating and throwing away all of the junk in her kitchen brought back horrifying memories of my gym experience yesterday. 


Paul and I have decided to join a gym since we both have time to work out and since our condo came sans gym in addition to sans appliances. I visited one place yesterday and during the tour, they had me stand on two machines. The machines then printed out a little report that told me just how out of shape I am. I was fine knowing that I need to tone up a little to get into the shape I was in last year and knowing that I would like to improve my stamina. Between the little piece of paper boasting my body fat percentage and Rosie Pope's kitchen remodeling exercise, I could only think of one thing - cake. I don't know what it is, but watching anything about losing weight just makes me want to eat. My college roommates and I used to pig out while watching Biggest Loser when it first aired because watching people work out that hard just made us hungry. Good to see I haven't changed. 

ROLE REVERSAL

Growing up, I was part of the typical American family. We had the typical married couple, one full-time working breadwinner dad and one stay-at-home mom in the beginning who later worked when the two kids were in school. We had a dog from the time I was 4 to 18, a cat from age 8 to age 28 and two goldfish that lasted as long as goldfish tend to last. My dad worked in sales and finance for several car dealerships during his career. He liked spaghetti, popcorn and German chocolate cake, and he always had a couple cases of IBC Root Beer in the fridge. Though cell phones and BlackBerrys did not exist at that time, he was what I would call a workaholic during the 80s and 90s. He worked a lot and when he came home, he just wanted to turn on whatever sporting event was in season at the time and pass out. Though he was home, he wasn't really there all the time.


My mom, on the other hand, was always around. As the primary care giver and ruler of the house, she got so tired of my brother and me calling her and asking for things
 that she banned the word, "mom" a few times. "Call me 'hey you,' call me 'Sam,' call me whatever you want. Just don't call me 'mom' today. I can't take it," she would say. I have a ton of memories of my brother and me getting into all kinds of trouble and the crazy faces and sounds my mom would make when she would discover whatever we had done. I also remember that having my mom around always meant that we had someone to come home to, someone to cook dinner every night and to teach me to cook in the process. We always had cookies, pies and cupcakes around the house for any occasion - birthdays, holidays or sometimes just because.


I remember lying on the couch in my grandmother's house one day on a break from my sophomore year of college. We moved in with my grandmother after my parents divorced on June 2, 1995, so her home became our home over the next decade. I was laying on the couch one day. I looked at my mom standing at the other end and I said, "I don't even know why I am in college. I just want to grow up and be a mom." She gave me one of those faces of both sheer surprise and threat, her eyes big like my brother and I had been caught beating on each other again. "Don't you even say that," she yelled. My mom had always instilled in me the way life should be: first, you finish high school without a boyfriend, then you go to college without getting into a serious relationship. Then you get a career and then you start thinking about getting married. Kids can come later. So the fact that I was mentioning kids in college while dating someone really messed with the order of operations.


But, I did as I was told because that is how I eventually needed my life to happen. I needed to graduate and make something of myself before I would agree to marry my now husband. Until I was settled and confident in my career and in my ability to care for myself, I was not ready to have someone try to care for me. I started off in the typical entry-level position and wound up the head of a communications department in a global corporation within five years, just as I wanted. I got a BlackBerry as part of my position, just as I wanted. And I eventually walked that fine line called the work-life balance. My standard work week turned into five 12-hour days plus some work at home on the weekends. Occasionally I would work in the office over a weekend or two but only for a big project.


I was at a point where I was certain we would need an au pair or a live-in nanny to watch our children when we had them because I did not want to quit my job. I was at a point when I almost hired an Ohio State student to be my personal assistant to run errands for me like go to the grocery store, pick up my dry cleaning and pick up some items from my dentist that had been sitting with the receptionist for three weeks. I see them in movies and on TV all the time. Why couldn't I have one? Frankly, the thought of being in that role again with a personal assistant running errands so that I could spend more time with Paul would be great. I am sure I will be revisiting this scenario again.


My husband and I read a book on the five love languages and found out that we have the same top two love languages but in reverse order. The love language that is Paul's first and my second - quality time. And what was my biggest challenge? Providing Paul with quality time. I somehow allowed my life to be dominated by work. The few friends that I had outside of work lived in various states and, though I did have a few friends in Columbus, I did not have a lot of time to spend with them. I worked all the time. Early mornings, late nights and the weekends belonged to Paul. At least they were supposed to. But, on several occasions, I watched Paul go to bed Sunday night and then I stayed up for a few hours finishing up some weekend work so that I would not be overloaded Monday. When Paul would call during the week to see when I would be home, I would give him one time and he just started adding three hours to make it even. Paul was a commercial pilot who worked for an airline so I only got to see him a few days a week. I did my best to make him a priority but sometimes I did not live up to my end of the deal. And there was the issue - I loved my job and wanted to be in that role with that company and the greatest team of people but I also loved my husband and knew that I had moved work above him in my priority list. 

We moved to Singapore because Paul accepted an opportunity to fly privately for a business man and, let's be honest, because I really liked the thought of living in another country. He is now the one hosting and attending meetings, developing agendas and formulating relationships with his key industry contacts. Hearing my husband talk about meetings is weird. He is a pilot. Pilots don't go to meetings. He is on his BlackBerry making and taking phone calls, sending e-mails and texting various individuals who are connected to the aircraft he is managing. We come home and his nose becomes buried in paperwork as he looks over maintenance logs and receipts for services. He is responsible for making contacts in the local aviation industry, overseeing maintenance work and ensuring the aircraft is airworthy before stepping into the cockpit to actually fly. 

Last week Paul started work and it hit me. I now know how my husband felt when I was working so many hours and was tied to my BlackBerry. I understand his frustration as we were talking and then I was reading e-mails in my hand and asking him to either pause for a moment or repeat himself because I was not paying attention the first time. This hit me after two days! I can only imagine the disappointment I caused him over and over and over again. I apologized last night because I knew what I was doing but I still let work take over. This is me - experiencing life on the other side.

I AM A BIG GIRL

Yesterday we moved out of temporary housing and into our new condo. Though it looks to me like we are living in Hawaii (I say this though I have never actually been to Hawaii), I believe it sounds like we are living in the middle of Manhattan. I had no idea that living in this area would be so noisy. I have adjusted to the crazy sounds of new birds and the sounds of the rain and thunder. However, our last place, though downtown, was away from any major roadway. We now reside on the corner of two quite busy roadways so the sounds of traffic thrusting by and buses breathing and motorcycles revving and horns honking seem to be all I hear. I lay in bed last night with my eyes wide open wondering when it would quiet down. When I awoke around 6:45 this morning to some strange clicks inside the bedroom (Paul checking his e-mail), all of the sounds were still there, including the birds.


One thing we have not heard since moving to Singapore is the sound of sirens of any kind. We have only seen one police car in the two weeks we have been here. Singapore is widely known as one of the safest places to live because the regulations are tight and punishable offenses are harsh. Singapore has one of the highest rates of capital punishment (hanging) in the world in relation to its size. Littering can bring a fine of S$1,000; jaywalkers can go to prison for up to three months; the import or sale of chewing gum is completely outlawed and possessing even half an ounce of marijuana will bring death by hanging (not that Paul or I would possess illegal drugs of any kind). 


Driving in Singapore is also restricted so accidents are very infrequent. We are aware of one accident in two weeks. One must go through a series of tests and courses before obtaining a license at age 18 or older. If purchasing a new car, a Certificate of Entitlement must be obtained because Singapore limits the number of vehicles on the roads. Demerit points are applied to a person's license for speeding, not wearing seatbelts or other typical infractions like accidents, so defensive driving in Singapore is inherent. Our real estate agent also told us that if one is caught talking on a cell phone while driving with no Bluetooth or headset, one's cell phone can be taken. The harsher the punishments, the better people behave and I fully support that approach. 


I experienced my own version of punishment yesterday while we were taking ownership of our new condo. I spent more than three hours with two realtors (ours and the landlord's), going over paperwork, discussing interpretation of wording, documenting items included in the apartment (ceiling lights, closet units, towel racks), documenting and photographing wear and tear items so we do not pay crazy fees when we move out....Ugh. All I wanted to do was sign on a dotted line! I did end up initialing every page of the lease and signing eight separate documents, and so did Paul, the landlord's agent, our agent and the landlord's power of attorney. Holy nuts. Once I was done with that, I had to go to Ikea to buy bedding and towels because we had not yet found Singapore's version of Target. That took about two hours round trip and I wanted to cry at a couple points for a couple reasons. Mostly because I get cranky when I am tired and I was just so ready to be done. I had started with the realtors at 3 and it was somewhere around 9 when I got home.


Thankfully, Paul had already started piecing together what would be our bed by the time I got home. I jumped in to help and we were able to get most of the frame completed in time to shower and pass out. We left the lower storage area for morning. When we awoke, I was ready to go. I unpacked all of our clothes while Paul finished the bed and then we both moved into the living and dining area for some more fun. This time I was the one frustrated beyond all end, yelling at the picture paper, and Paul was the calm one. Weird. I typically like to do these projects myself because I have patience and an unknown understanding of the directions, but having Paul there to help today not only saved my sanity, it made the process go much smoother and much faster. By 11 this morning, we had finished the bed storage, our dining set, a three-seat couch and a recliner - slip covers and all. And we even cleaned up after ourselves in the process. I could certainly not have accomplished all that without Paul. 


The good news is that we are all moved in and this place is starting to look like a home. Now we just have to wait for the rest of our stuff to arrive in a shipping container in a few weeks. Since Paul is busy working and I am busy not working, there are quite a few types of role reversal occurring these days in addition to the Ikea construction adventure, but more on that later.

BY THE BEACH

This morning I ventured into Little India to attend my very first Singapore function. I took a bus to a stop about half a block from the Expat Kitchen. As I was walking down the street, I realized that I felt as if I were in India in the few minutes it took me to reach my destination. I was surrounded by Indian people, the men wearing  thin pants an loosely-buttoned shirts and the women wearing gorgeous saris of all colors swarming out of a place I thought was a temple. I later confirmed that it was the Sri Veeramakaliamman Temple, one of Singapore's oldest temples built by Indian pioneers in the 1800s. The building was blue and was intricately painted with golds and reds and yellows. There were sculptures of people and animals over five tiers in the roof. I have never seen such a place.

I attended a brunch for expatriates and met a few people from England and France including a British couple who moved here two months ago to start an innovation/product development company. We bonded over our home countries' budget and government issues and agreed that we are just fine being in Singapore right now. I heard on CNN this morning that the U.S. is estimated to reach is more than $14 trillion debt threshold next month. How on earth can a country rack up $14 trillion in debt? It seems almost impossible, yet somehow, our country has accomplished it. 

A panel of local experts presented information on their expat-focused services - real estate, business start up support, insurance, and the all-important food. The food guy had a lot of great information on where to shop and where to find the best food on the island. I learned that we should always take tissues with us wherever we go. Paul and I have noticed that hawker centers and even mall food courts are lacking something very important - napkins. How these people eat without having napkins handy astounds me. I have considered taking some paper towels in my purse. Today I found out that is perfectly acceptable. I also learned that tissues, in addition to being used as napkins, also mark territory. When eating in a public venue, placing a tissue or other personal object on a table reserves one's seat. This is called chokking or choping (pronounced "chalking" and "chohping" respectively). 

After brunch, I headed outside to catch the bus back home. Except I realized that the main street was one way, meaning I could not catch a bus to go back home on that street. I researched how to find the location of the Expat Kitchen, but I never thought to research my return trip. When I realized that I could not easily find a bus stop, I started walking toward a street with traffic going the opposite direction. When finding a cab was impossible, I continued walking toward the main roads. I started walking toward the tall city buildings and contemplated walking all the way, or at least half way, home. I at least wanted to find some familiar turf. 

The main roads looked like the Garden State Parkway on a summer weekend - not moving. I could not find a bus stop with any familiar numbers and I was not going to hop in a taxi while paying the driver to sit in traffic, so I just kept walking. At one point, I turned around and saw tall city buildings in three directions and it was at that moment that I realized I was lost in Singapore. I walked 2km, roughly 1.2 miles and found a building I thought was one of Singapore's thousand malls. The building turned out to be a hospital and I felt completely out of place, but I was able to locate a taxi stand. Luckily, the taxi driver knew where we were and how to get me home. 


And by home I mean downtown in the temporary residence. Paul and I get kicked out tomorrow, so East Coast, here we come. We got everything figured out, the mold problem is fixed and the super clean team arrives in the morning. Tomorrow we get to officially move in and put together all of our great, straight-out-of-the-box Ikea furniture. Woo hoo. Luckily, I am the man of the house when it comes to putting together furniture, so I will have a full night ahead of me tomorrow as I construct a bed and a full day ahead of me Saturday as I put together an entire dining set, a three-seat couch and an armchair with a footrest that will somehow work when completed. I'm excited. And exhausted just thinking about all that.

I quite enjoy constructing furniture. I feel a real sense of accomplishment when it is all done. Of course, I feel a real sense of frustration and confusion as I sit on the floor with various wooden pieces and metal fixtures all around me because Ikea makes picture books for directions. I am a big girl. I like words to accompany my pictures. 


I expect rain tomorrow during transition time. April is supposed to be the beginning of the dry season, but I believe the wet season is still fighting to hang on. It has rained nearly every day since we moved here. It rains overnight, early in the morning, in the afternoons between 2 and 4 and, sometimes, all day long. Twice this week I have been outside running errands when a thunderstorm came raging in. Yesterday, when my yellow umbrella wasn't keeping Paul and me dry enough, we sat under a bus stop shelter while the thunder rolled around us as we attempted to wait out the downpour. I so need to buy some cute galoshes. Flip flops are not the greatest in torrential rains.

But alas, I will survive. I always do. I am a big girl.

BACK TO THE HUNT...

Last week Paul and I signed a Letter of Intent to rent a great place on the East Coast. The apartment complex is small - less than 20 units - and it is two blocks from East Coast Park and the spectacular beach shown in the photos below. There are gorgeous floor-to-ceiling mirrors, tons of wall-length windows, a chandelier in the dining area and two large balconies. But there are a few things getting in the way. This apartment is like a bad boyfriend. All I want to see is the good as I overlook the bad stuff that I know discredits the good. Like the fact that 1,227 square feet is a decent size for a three-bedroom apartment, but the usable space is much smaller, leaving the apartment not very usable.

The bedrooms are nice, but window seats and closet units take up most of the floor space. We will be lucky to fit a couch and two chairs in the living room without blocking the front door. The kitchen has an oven but that's it. We would need to buy a fridge and a microwave and a dishwasher will not fit without renovating. There is space for a washing machine but no washer or dryer. Meaning we would have to furnish the appliances and then just leave them in the apartment when we move out. What smart person would do that? 

And then there's the mold. That's right, we spotted a little something funny on the wall outside the master bedroom last week and requested a home inspector evaluate the apartment before we committed to renting. Turns out we were right. The home inspectors suspect the mold is all over, which will require some servicing and some wall repair. Meaning we likely cannot move in Thursday. But it's so pretty! And it's close to the beach! So the apartment is like the bad boyfriend I know I should dump for all of the obvious reasons, except I really like him...or it. 

Luckily, I have a husband who is sometimes smarter than I. I have enough trust and confidence in him to say that I trust his judgement and will continue looking for better places with more usable space and less mold. As long as they are by the beach.

ANYONE WANT TO HIRE ME YET?

Paul and I watched church in a movie theatre today. True story. I should first explain that we started attending a church in a shopping mall. The church is an actual church that rents space in the mall because there are apparently no other venues that can hold the amount of people attending the four services each Sunday. The Pastor, Joseph Prince, is one of the great ministers who is privileged to have the opportunity to broadcast his services across the globe each week, so he has quite a following. People are in a line that spans across the sixth-floor atrium an hour before each service hoping to obtain seats in the main auditorium, and today we did not make the cut. We were in the part of the line that was asked to view the service in one of the overflow rooms - in the adjacent cinema. We literally watched a church service on a big screen in a movie theatre. 


I was asking Paul before the service started if we were just supposed to sit and watch the screen like watching a movie or if people would be singing along with the praise team on the screen. He voted for sitting, but the people shot right up when the woman leading today's worship told everyone to rise and they sang at the top of their lungs. The people in the room even spoke to the screen when asked to repeat phrases. It was almost like we were in the main auditorium. Even though we were in a movie theatre, we were asked to dispose of our bottled water and coffee drink (that was two-thirds full) before entering. A man told us that the cinema is "rented space. No food or drink allowed." We laughed at the irony but, of course, complied. Bye bye, coffee drink. 


After church we viewed a back-up apartment near Little India. The apartment itself is pretty nice and there are no realtors involved, which makes dealing with the landlord much easier. The apartment is right in the middle of shops and food centres, making the area appealing. Sadly, though, it is not near the beach.


Singapore is known for its food, which is good because anyone who knows me knows that my entire life revolves around food. The smell, the taste, the visual appeal - visual appeal is very important as I will likely not eat anything that I do not deem visually appealing. More importantly, some of my best memories and outings with friends occur with food in the centre of our conversations. When I visit my friends in Massachusetts, it seems all we talk about anymore is coffee and cannolis. Visiting friends in DC always brings delectable desserts like cupcakes. And everyone in Columbus knows they can find me any day of the week downtown eating at The Rossi or Latitude 41. Yummy. Beyond yummy.


We have not seen more than two stand-alone restaurants in Singapore to date. Most places are tied to a shopping mall, I suppose since malls are so popular. Others are found in a line of stores and restaurants much like those in Columbus would see in the Short North. In addition to the mall restaurants and food courts, Singapore hosts outdoor food centres or hawker centres. Imagine fair food vendors pressed end to end and back to back in three or four lines. These vendors are housed in an open-air pavilion with dirt floors and picnic tables between the rows of vendors. Hawker centres are known for authentic Chinese, Indian and Malaysian food for about S$3 or S$4. Mall food courts typically charge about S$7 per person and restaurants we have seen are typically anywhere from S$18 to S$40 per person.


Hawker centres are also great for people watching, another thing I love to do. We ate at a hawker centre this afternoon and while reviewing this centre's fare, we passed a group of old Asian men. There were six of them around a picnic table. They did not have any food in front of them; they just sat there talking as if that was what they did every day. One man in the middle laid his head against a stone pillar. Though not one of the hottest days on the island by far, I admit it was rather warm. The man had his shirt pulled up over his belly, which popped out like a pregnant woman. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open just a little. He looked so peaceful until the old man sitting next to him backhanded the sleeping man on the forehead. The sleeping man stopped sleeping at that point, looked around dazed and confused, and the other five men at the table began laughing, as did I. The man who did the hitting saw me laughing, and so he began to laugh even harder. 


Paul and I selected the standard chicken rice from two different vendors and met in the middle to eat near a fan. I paired my meal with my new favorite drink, watermelon apple juice blended with ice, and talked with Paul about my new business idea - a popcorn shop in the hawker centre. These food centres have main dishes and drinks but no snacks. I could rent a stall and sell all kinds of popcorn flavors for super cheap. I could make the standard - butter, more butter, cheesy and caramel. I could make interesting combinations like cinnamon sugar and garlic and rosemary. I could even make soon-to-be local favorites like peanut popcorn and curry popcorn. This could work. Paul thought the idea was genius and even checked into stall rental prices. He wants to add cotton candy to the list. We will have to wait for the arrival of the popcorn maker as it is on a boat in the Atlantic at this time. I am not sure where we will find a cotton candy maker. 


Paul just found out that there are ladies of the night in that neighborhood, so I guess we will not be signing a lease. I will not let my popcorn dream die just yet, though. There are other hawker centres in this state. Back to the hunt, as he says....

RETIRED. OR UNEMPLOYED. OR A HOUSEWIFE...

Today is my first official day of not having a job. I had a couple moments of depression waking up this morning. The last time I was unemployed I was fresh out of college. I had just moved to Columbus and had signed a lease on an apartment before I obtained a paycheck. There is no motivation to find a job like owing rent. I was so motivated that I went out and got three jobs at one time. I worked full time as an office temp during the week and worked at two mall stores nights and weekends. I remember during the holidays I would open at one store and close at the other. I think all that activity led to my first burn out. After having all that running through my head, I remembered that this time unemployment was my choice. I wanted to take some time off and try to figure out life in a new part of the world. Sigh, heart palpitations over.


So what did I do on my first official day of unemployment? I did what every housewife does - I went shopping. If you have been reading this blog, you will know that there are always local shopping malls because malls are more frequent than Starbucks. Today we even found a mall underground that connected a number of other malls under the streets! 


Our mall of choice today, Suntec City, was developed over more than a decade to become a city within a city (and it is). The mall boasts more than 7 million square feet of commercial space including offices, 2 million square feet for retail stores and a convention center within five towers that are all connected by plazas, walkways and courtyards. The towers are in the shape of a hand, a left hand to be precise, with an 18-story office block as the thumb, four 45-story office towers as the remaining fingers and a six-story convention center forming the wrist. According to the mall's website, the fountain in the palm of the hand is in the Guinness Book of Records as the largest fountain in the world. And, for those fortunate enough to have a car in Singapore, there are 7,000 parking spaces. 


Once we were done shopping for lighter and airier clothes, we went to the Funan DigitaLife Mall, Asia's leading IT shopping mall. That's right, Johnny B, an entire eight-story mall of IT and electronic gadgets as well as any accessory you can imagine. It was crazy. I am not sure whether Paul was excited or just overwhelmed, but I think the number of stores was a little more than he could handle in one glance. 


All that shopping was enough to wipe me out. We came back, ate a light lunch and now I am ready to nap by the pool. Anyone want to hire me yet?

NO PLACE LIKE....HOME?

Well, we found a home, but we are unable to call it ours just yet. This evening we discovered a few things that did not make us happy while obtaining measurements, so we requested that a housing inspector review the property before we make a two-year, many thousand dollar commitment. If it all works out, by the end of next week, hopefully, Paul and I will be residents of Singapore's East Coast neighborhood, just a block away from the East Coast Park and its gorgeous beach. We went to the park/beach yesterday; a few photos can be found on the bottom of the page. If this place falls through for any reason, we will be back to square one with only six days until we become homeless again.

The condo we selected is a three-bedroom unit (known as a 2+1 here) with gorgeous floors, great windows and two large balconies with planter boxes all around the perimeter. When I read about the planter boxes on the realty website, I was excited for our viewing so I could see which flowers would be in the boxes. I quickly learned that the planter boxes are DIY. Empty. No soil, no rocks, no nothing. The neighbor's planter boxes look so pretty. Why can't mine just come like that? I suppose I will just have to fly my grandmother out here to get them started. In fact, I should keep her out here so she can be my full-time gardener. You see, I kill things. I inherited the death thumb from my mother. My grandmother, however, has been blessed with the beyond the grave thumb. That's right, she brings the things that my mother and I kill back from the dead. Amazing. 

I like this residence because it is quaint - only 16 units in the building, two per floor - and it is the only one of the eight we saw that came without any furniture. We didn't notice that "without any furniture" also meant without a refrigerator until the landlord's agent pointed it out tonight. We actually saw the hole, measured the space and started thinking of things to fill the space. Oops. 


In the U.S., finding a furnished or even partially-furnished apartment is nearly impossible. If one does find a furnished apartment, the price is typically much higher than the rent on an unfurnished apartment. In Singapore, people just leave stuff behind, which is a real problem because we don't want their stuff. Who wants to sleep on a mattress on which someone else has lived? Hotels, I know, but would you like to buy a mattress from a hotel? I didn't think so. There is something about owning a used mattress that just disgusts me. And a Hello Kitty couch? Really? In the living room? One place we visited had dark pink and lime green walls in two of the bedrooms and the hallway. The landlord's agent was not keen on us repainting. Really? No white walls allowed? This place is weird. And frustrating.

Want to know what else is weird and frustrating? Doing laundry in the kitchen. In our temporary residence, the stackable washer and dryer unit is located in the kitchen next to the stove. My unmentionables hang from the cupboards, and when I fold the laundry, the piles of clothes are stacked on the tiny counter, on the gas burners, on the electric burners and on any other space I can find in my kitchen. Don't worry, Mom, all of the burners and outlets have power switches in addition to the standard knobs so none of the burners are ever on - except today when I was folding laundry while boiling pasta for lunch. Yes, I found penne and Prego at the store today, so I can still get my pasta fix. There are even Italian restaurants on this island. Imagine that. Your non-Italian, Italian girl will survive in Singapore. 

The kitchen is the one room in our current apartment without a cooling system. You see, Singaporeans are very energy conscious. There are recycling bins on streets, trash sorters available for purchase in lieu of standard trash cans and electricity is something that is used in moderation. When we checked into our temporary housing, we were advised that we would be allotted S$10 a day for electricity and we looked at the woman like she was crazy when she advised that the air conditioner should not run all day. We weren't sure she realized it was 94 degrees outside. 

All of the electrical outlets have on/off switches, our hot water heater is turned off unless we turn it on to shower or wash something and central air is nonexistent. Singapore does have air conditioning - I think Air-con, as it is called, is the national motto - but there are individual Air-con units in the common rooms and the bedrooms. It really makes sense if you contemplate it - why cool an entire house when you are sitting in one room? But why not add one to the kitchen? Sense that not make does. 

I don't know what I am going to do if we have to start this search over again. I wish it were as easy as walking into a place, asking to see a unit and signing a lease within 30 minutes like before. Gone are the days when finding a place to live was easier. Gone are the days when we could drive ourselves across the city in search of a residence. Gone are the days when I was employed! Sigh, today marks my official last day of work. When I awake in the morning, I will officially be retired. Or unemployed. Or a housewife. 

HOUSE HUNTERS INTERNATIONAL

House hunting in Singapore (pronounced Seen-gah-poh by the locals) is just as frustrating as it is in the U.S. Except in Singapore, there are no apartment communities with a single landlord over the whole building where one can just walk in, ask to see an apartment and sign a lease. In Singapore, one needs to have a real estate agent or five (literally) contacting the individual apartment owners' agent to set up viewings. And Paul and I found out yesterday that even if we find a nice place online, it doesn't necessarily mean there are units available. According to our agent, tenant representatives will often post a vacancy to a website just to see who will call them. When a person calls, the tenant rep advises that there is no vacancy in that particular apartment; however, he or she would be happy to show the caller a number of similar properties. 


Real estate searches, like everything else in Singapore, are very slow. When we started our search Monday, I was not confident that we would be able to find an apartment suitable to our American needs by the 15th when our temporary housing contract expires. All of my previous apartment searches consisted of me looking online and driving around the city looking for some decent prospects. I remember when I moved to Jersey I saw 25 apartments in a single day. Here in Singapore, we found out that it is common to have multiple real estate agents assist a person in the hunt for good housing, so we enlisted two agents and decided that we would see which we liked better after the first meeting. We saw one place with the first guy the first day and two places with the second guy. Yesterday, we narrowed our two agents down to one and saw two places, and we have two additional viewings this evening. I suppose we need to get used to this slower environment.  


I will admit that I have been spoiled when it comes to housing. I have been fortunate enough to find really nice homes in really nice places, some gated communities and one with a 42-square-foot closet. I could have fit a bed in that closet. In Singapore, there are lots of high-rise buildings but to find any place with more than 1,200 square feet, you will likely need to be able to afford rent at least S$7,000 per month. Let's just say that we can't. 


Most of the places we saw had spacious living and dining areas, small kitchens with easy-bake ovens, and tiny, tiny, bedrooms. The first few communities were older and not well kept; the outsides of the buildings were dirty and one unit smelled musty. The homes here have hard floors - some marble, some marble-looking tile. There are no closets, but most places come with some clothing storage units in each room. I am confident that if I give some clothes away, I can make it all fit. Bathrooms are typically very small. There are no linen closets and very little storage for girl products. I have 15 to 20 hair care and facial products that I need to make me feel pretty, and I am going to need to put them somewhere. I suppose that's why someone invented Ikea. 


Washing clothes will be an adventure in itself. When I said that I would have to learn how to be a housewife and do laundry, I didn't really expect to be learning on these funky washing machines that speak to me in code and hanging my clothes out to dry inside my apartment. This is not what I signed up for. Back to our search...


We convinced our agent that we needed newer and cleaner and that no space was too big (yes, he actually asked if one place was too big). I am pleased to say that we did find one place yesterday that met our standards in a lot of ways. The building only has 16 units on nine floors so we won't feel like we're in an amusement park with the 2 million people who also live in the typical Singaporean high rise. And the condo has a built-in bomb shelter off the kitchen so we and our guests will feel safe. Although it is the top of our list, we still have one more neighborhood to explore before we make our two-year commitment, though we cannot make that commitment quite yet.


In Singapore, if you do not have a visa, there isn't a whole lot that you can do other than sit back, relax and continue your vacation. We are currently unable to open a bank account, sign a leasing Letter of Intent or an actual lease or obtain a cell phone or mobile service contract. That's right, I am doing the impossible. I have survived without a cell phone since March 30 because our visas are still in process. So, I suppose I will just continue to sit outside by the pool, waiting for our visas in this paradise that I will soon call home. Because we all know there's no place like home...

A DAY OF REST

I have to admit, not having a job does have one perk - I am not on a schedule to do anything by a certain time of day. Now, it would be nice if my body would realize that 7 p.m. is not bedtime and 3 a.m. is not time to wake up...I'm working on that. But having the freedom to do what needs to be done on my own schedule and not someone else's is something to which I am growing accustomed. 

What would really make me happy is if my husband would stop trying to find me a job when I am at a point where I like not having one. He had the classifieds open in our new local paper the second day we were here and advised that he was looking for jobs for me. As fate would have it, as I was typing the first paragraph of this entry, he popped up with, "Hey, I found a job for you!" Kismet. This job, as it turns out, would require me to be in New York City where I would blog about major league baseball games. HELLOOOO - You just moved me to Singapore......

Anyone who knows me knows that I will likely not survive if I don't have some form of employment because I do need a feeling of accomplishment and self worth. I fully believe that I will have some sort of employment in the near future, but I am doing my best to give myself a break until we have the basic necessities fulfilled - you know, like a place to live and then some furniture to fit nicely inside our new home. Once the house is filled, the refrigerator is filled, the cupboards are filled, and my husband is off flying again, I will be more open to gainful employment. In fact, I already may have an opportunity to do some freelance work. 

Yesterday we decided to try a church service downtown. The church hosts four services on Sunday, so we got to pick which to attend. Our day of rest started with a relaxing morning at 7 a.m. We took our time getting ready, and then headed into town via bus. I have to say, I quite enjoy riding the bus. The taxis are very cheap, but they are fast. Our 20-minute bus ride yesterday cost us 90 cents and gave us a slower look at a few neighborhoods along the way. The bus was quiet and clean, and did I mention that it cost 90 cents?

The Orchard Road shopping is a very popular area of town; I read about it before we moved. I think they have more high-end retailers than even Madison Avenue. There were two Armani stores, a Rolex store, Cartier, Prada, Gucci...We saw more people hanging out outside of the stores than actually in them. 

Our church service was held on the top floor of a mall because malls are all that Singapore has. I have never seen more malls in one place. Malls are like Starbucks here - they are across the street from one another. And there are Starbucks inside. The population density in Manhattan is nearly four times that of Singapore's, but it certainly seems more crowded here. There are people everywhere, but mostly in the malls. And I don't think these people know anything about personal space. Sally, you would freak out. The Singaporeans like to be the first in line at all times. An elderly woman came from behind and cut right in front of me and another person at the grocery store the other day. I thought that my position in the line was clear, but I was certainly mistaken. I just got out of the way.

This morning we awoke rather early again. I told Paul last night that we should have an easy morning, relax a little. I think we're on Fiji time, which is odd because we have never been to Fiji. We didn't even pass Fiji when we flew over. The good news is that we cleaned our entire apartment, I cooked breakfast for the two of us and cleaned up afterwards. By the time we finished, it was only 7.30. Good thing we have all day to get things done on our schedule. This afternoon, we get to visit our first potential apartments as we live our own reality TV episode of House Hunters International.

MY OMG MOMENTS

Our friend Nate told us before we left that he thought he was making a big move when he relocated to Denver from Columbus. He pretty much thinks we're nuts for moving across the world. The first two days have been great, and Paul and I have had the opportunity to experience quite a few emotions since we landed 50 hours ago. 


We started to play a "spot the white people" game. For some reason, we thought we might be two of the only outsiders. On our first day, we had to walk quite a ways to catch a cab to get some food and I swore that everyone was staring at us because we were white and didn't belong. I got over that pretty quickly when I noticed that people really weren't staring at us at all. Then, as we walked around in the more populated areas, we started to see one or two people who looked more like us. Yesterday, we saw a ton. We scored a lot of points.


Moving across the world as quickly as we did made us think about some things a little differently once we were here. I call these our OMG moments:

• OMG Singapore looks just like Florida. Maybe we should have gone there instead.
• OMG we're in a foreign country. What did we just do?
• OMG I am so going to need to get a job. I can't sit around here all day. What am I going to do? (That was within five minutes of us walking into our temporary housing.)
• OMG what is with the light switches? Light switches are not in the same room as the lights and the switches are backwards. Down is on and up is off. 
• OMG we don't know which way to walk. People drive on the left side of the road, so are we supposed to walk on the left side of the sidewalk? (We still haven't figured this out.)
• OMG the weather report says it's supposed to rain all day. What are we going to do? We don't have umbrellas and I haven't bought a pair of super cute galoshes yet. Paul: Well, our ability to go outside is directly related to our ability to survive. We don't have food so, if we don't leave, we'll starve.Me: Oh yeah. I suppose I should go shower then.
• OMG we found the white people - they're all at Ikea!
• OMG it's not the heat that's going to kill me, it's the humidity. (Paul's advice - we should just get used to sweating.)
• OMG my legs are stiff and my feet hurt from all the walking. I am not sure if they hurt from walking or from walking in flats. I'm betting on the latter.
• OMG chubby Asians! I didn't think there was such a thing. We found them in all of the food courts. Interestingly enough, an article in this morning's paper states that one in 10 Singaporeans is obese. Who knew?
• OMG western food is expensive. Cereal is between S$7 and S$12 for the small boxes, not the gigantic Cheerios box that is bigger than all the others.
• OMG BEN & JERRY'S ICE CREAM IS S$15 A PINT!!!
• OMG we finally laid in bed until 7 a.m.! We may not have slept the entire night, but we laid in bed until 7 a.m.!
• OMG we just paid more than S$5 for a half gallon of milk last night and it's already half gone. 

Thank goodness today is a day of rest. 

A STAMP ON MY PASSPORT

Well, we made it. And I finally got a stamp on my passport! I kind of shouted in the airport after clearing the passport checkpoint. Paul shushed me, but I was excited. It took me 28 years to get that stamp. 


We left Salem, Ohio, at 10:30 a.m. local time Wednesday and arrived at the gate at Singapore's Changi Airport at 6:30 a.m. local time Friday. Not counting the flight from Pittsburgh to New York City Wednesday afternoon, we spent 22 hours on a plane - 22 HOURS! And that's no April Fool. 


The flight to Singapore was not nearly as bad as Paul and I expected it to be. Though we packed enough Dramamine and Bendadryl to knock out the entire back section of the plane, we ended up making the trip drug free. Yay us. 


The Singapore Airlines people were always a step ahead of us and frequently attended to the passengers. We never had to look for a flight attendant because five served our section and someone was always around. Pardon me while I brag a little about the services. As a frequent U.S. regional airline traveler, most of this came as a shock to me: Pillows and blankets were on the seats when we arrived. We were served hot towels three times on the flight, three hot meals plus snacks without any charges for food or wine and we were provided Givenchy travel kits with socks, a toothbrush and toothpaste. Seat-back entertainment options included approximately 120 free TV edpisodes, 30 new movies including all of the movies featured at the Oscars, video games like Mario Brothers, and the flight path so we could see where in the world Carmen Sandiego was. We slept one or two hours at a time a few times on the way and were so ready for a shower by the time we arrived in our temporary housing. Other than swollen feet and toes, we did amazingly well.


When we landed, the sun had not yet risen, so all we could see were lights - lights in the water from all of the boats parked peacefully away from the shore, and lights from the city outlining all of the buildings and major roadways. 


Singapore is a beautiful country. There are lots of trees and vines and green everywhere - and that is just inside the airport common areas. Outside there are palm trees and flowers, and greener grass than I have seen. It's almost like a mix of Orlando and Manhattan if you can imagine it. All of the streets are lined with trees and bushes, even amongst the skyscrapers.


There are lots of cars here; I was surprised. All of the typical brands we see in the U.S. - Lexus, Toyota, Honda, Mercedes, Mazda - are present. There are lots of little cars, a few trucks (hauling trucks, not pickup trucks) and a few vans but no SUVs whatsoever. Oh wait, I did see one Porsche SUV. OK so one SUV. When we got into the cab, I was reminded that the drivers were on the right side of the car. We were on a road with five lanes on our side, so I didn't even notice that we were to the left of the opposite traffic until we were closer to the city. I did freak out a couple times because I swore we were turning the wrong way onto a one-way street. Thank God all of the lanes have arrows. Or thank God I'm not driving while we're here. Yeah, we'll go with that one. 


Riding in a taxi in Singapore is just like riding in a taxi in Jersey but without the yelling and the honking. I was sure we were going to hit someone about 10 different times today. 


I don't think it's common practice to tip your driver in Singapore. We seem to make the drivers' day when we tip them. We gave the last guy S$10 on a S$7 cab ride and he seemed to bow to us as we were walking away. It was as if we had handed over a million dollars or paid all of his medical bills or something.


Paul and I explored a little bit of Orchard Road today, a mass transit connection boasting many shops, restaurants, and high-end housing. For our first meal in Singapore, we went to a place called the Hot Tomato. Paul chose the chicken parmesan over french fries. Ha. I had some dory fish that was fried and the batter tasted like that of the sweet and sour chicken offered back home. Our first meal today was dinner because we accidentally took a five-hour nap this morning and slept clear through the afternoon. Oops. Luckily, I am so exhausted that I am falling sleep while crafting this post, so I don't think I will have any trouble sleeping tonight. 


Tomorrow we will be venturing out into suburbia to check our a few potential neighborhoods northwest of the city. There is much more to write about, but I'll have to get to that tomorrow. Let's just say I had that OMG moment this morning.