WITHOUT YOU

Dear Nicola, 

The day you walked into the RDA, a lost soul in need of someone to literally show you the way home, you changed my life. I won’t forget that day because I had dinner plans and helping you find your way made me miss my bus. Our second meeting brought pink dresses, bubbly drinks and a plan to see Carrie Underwood and some koalas, which we did, and it was amazing.

Your husband, Duncan, likely rolled his eyes at my Facebook friend request, especially since he and I had not yet met. It read: “I feel like we should be friends since we will likely be seeing a lot of each other once Nic comes back to town.” He believed me, accepted my request and probably never imagined just how much time we actually spend together (though it is quite funny how he will make fun of us if we go an entire day without a text or phone call between us).

Duncan is right when he says we are complete opposites in a lot of ways, but our love of food, Starbucks, talking to each other, listening to one another and being completely honest and telling each other exactly how crazy we are in the moment is what truly makes me appreciate having a friend like you here to share this experience. You are my Singaporean Katie. I could not be as sane, happy or social without you.

Dear Katie,

I had no problem leaving my job; I had no problem leaving my family. I, surprisingly, did not die of boredom on the 30+ hour commute. I didn’t feel lonely right away, but it didn’t take me long to realize what I was missing. In my first few months, I went back to my childishly shy ways. I was not super outgoing; I did not join organizations or associations right away. I was most concerned with finding food to fill my belly, a house that I could fill with stuff and finding my way from Point A to Point B without giving up or getting lost.

I quickly learned, however, that I missed the quality time with my favorite people. I remember having to go to the Ministry of Manpower to arrange for a resident card. When I finished, I walked outside and found a small Italian café with tables on the sidewalk overlooking the river. They served coffee, which I drank, wine, pizzas. As I sipped my coffee and watched the world around me, I thought about how great it would be to have you and Anna Marie with me. The perfect day would look like this: 

The sun would be shining, the sky would be blue, the temperature would be somewhere around 27 with a breeze. We would arrive at the restaurant around 10 and sit at an outdoor table so that we could watch the people walking by and floating on down the river. We would order coffee; Anna Marie would obviously finish her latte first, at a time I would bet would be around 2.5 minutes. We would sit and talk and enjoy our coffees. When it felt about that time, we would order some salads and pizzas to accompany our bottle of wine. Our bellies content, we would clear the food from the table and enjoy our wine, continuing our conversations and people watching through the afternoon. Somewhere around 2 it might be time for tea and dessert. Before we know it, we will have spent the entire day at an outdoor cafe and it would have been the best day of our lives - one that we would remember and appreciate forever because on that day, time did not matter.

As we crossed the finish line of our 20s and bore the last struggles of the decade, I realized that I would give anything to get on a plane and be with you; I also wished that I could fly you over here from time to time. I am very thankful that the technology geniuses have afforded us the ability to send free text messages and make free phone calls so that at least we get to feel a bit closer. Even though you are far, far away, I could not have kept my humor, my sanity or my sense of style without you.

Dear Moms,

For me, moving out of the house for the first time and moving into my freshman dorm room was harder than I expected. I remember crying as I hugged my mom and then calling her that first night. I didn’t think 3.5 hours was far enough from home but that day it felt like I was across the country.

When we first told you about the move, Paul and I went about the discussions in different ways. I slowly broke my mom in, telling her about Paul’s crazy applications (all of them) and the interview process. When we called to advise her we were moving, she gave a mom sigh and threw out some line about her “baby moving halfway across the world,” and a few sarcastic sniffles. I immediately said, “No, no. That won’t work with me. Your son left home to travel the world years ago, so just deal.”

Paul, on the other hand, took a different approach. “Hi. I applied for a job in Singapore and I got it. I think we’re going to move…in a month.” Paul’s mom flipped out. She eventually came around and her airport good-bye was reminiscent of my college good-bye, except Paul’s mom gave us strong man hugs, pushed us away and ran off before we could see her cry for days. She put up a strong front.

I am sure the time apart would be harder on all of us if technology were not as it is today. Thanks to Google, we talk via phone a few days a week and text and e-mail as needed. Thanks to Facebook, we can easily upload photos and make comments as we are so inclined. Thanks to you and your support, Paul and I have been able to transition smoothly, realizing that we don’t need to be so close all the time but that we appreciate the time we do have together. Without you both, we would not be here.

STANDING IN THE SOUTH CHINA SEA

Do you ever have moments when you just feel blessed? Moments when you know you are doing something amazing that no one else you know has done? Do you ever feel guilty for having opportunities that other people do not have, opportunities that you want to tell someone but you don’t want to sound like you are boasting?

I have had the opportunity to experience some pretty amazing things in my 30 years. Taking the trip with Paul was just another day that I felt completely blessed. I have a great husband who I completely respect. He makes me laugh a lot and makes me feel frustrated sometimes. Though we have been together for 10 years and married for three I did not realize until last year that having a pilot for a husband is not such a great idea.

Yes, the job has its perks – in the U.S., we were able to fly for practically no cost and he was gone five to six days a week so I did not have to worry about being home at a certain time or making a normal dinner. The job also had its downsides – he was gone five or six days a week so I sometimes felt that if I did not spend time with him the days he was home, I would be abandoning him. Working longer than anticipated nearly drove us apart.

The other bummer – one I only truly understood last year – is that someone who flies in planes and stays in hotels as part of his job is not likely to be someone who wants to sit in airports and stay in hotels when he is not working. I did not really think that through before that whole “I do” thing.

When we moved to Asia, I was thrilled to be in a new environment and explore so many areas that were once so far away. Today, I can be in Bali, Indonesia, and Phuket, Thailand in about two hours for about S$200, I travelled to Sydney, Australia, over the summer in the time it would take me to go from New York to LA and it cost about S$600. It seems almost crazy to think that within a few hours and for the cost of a Southwest ticket, I could be in someone’s version of paradise. Then again, at one point in my life sitting by a lake in New England in October seemed like paradise.

My point is that my husband is not a fan of travel – at least not Asian travel. Maybe it’s because a lot of places in Asia are not nearly as modern as Singapore; maybe it’s because no one’s version of English is as good as it is in Columbus, Ohio. For the record, I picked Columbus because of the nearly perfect “American” accent that cannot be found anywhere south of Kentucky or east of Pennsylvania. Maybe Paul doesn’t like to travel in America because he doesn’t understand Asian food.

Whatever the reason, it is a bit difficult to get him to agree on an island swap. For his birthday, I went ahead a booked a trip and told him about it way after the fact. He did admit that he was a bit unsure about the trip at one point but he did say that he had a great time once the day was complete. He liked being back in the cockpit of a small plane and he enjoyed actually looking at the scenery all around him while he puttered along.

Pulau Tioman is an island off of mainland Malaysia’s east coast. Though there are a number of archipelagos popping out of the water, Tioman stood strong and mighty. The island was exactly what I pictured the South Pacific to be, though Paul reminded me that we weren’t actually in the South Pacific.

Trees stood tall all over untouched mountains. The island’s peaks stood above the clouds as the fog blanketed the mountainsides. Palm trees stood tall and plentiful. The water crashed into the beaches. The population was sparse. The villages were only along the coastline; water taxis were available to take tourists from one side of the island to the other because roads are not common. The best-made roads look like concrete sidewalks.

We had some time to wander around before our flight back to Johor Bahru but we did not wander very far. We walked through the village with our guide and co-captain, Boon, and ate at a local restaurant where the cats greeted us and feasted on any plates left behind. There were no fancy resorts and just one or two touristy shops where we were, and we were surprised to see so many Caucasian people wandering around.

Paul and I walked along the beach for a bit and sat by the water. I took some time to take it all in, and then, I celebrated as I realized that I was standing in the South China Sea. Go ahead, look it up on a map – the South China Sea! Who do I know who has done that? No one!

Paul and I headed back to the plane and learned that the afternoon storms were starting to develop in the area. Paul started telling me about how he could see storm cells developing and how easy it is to fly around thunderstorms in this part of the world.

We flew back just as we came. All in all, we had a great day. Thank you so much to everyone who made Paul's Birthday Flying Adventure a reality. We could not have had this experience without you. 

BRING IT

Paul’s birthday was way more fun than my birthday, even though I planned my festivities well in advance. At least we both got what we wanted, right? What did Paul want to do for his birthday? One word: nothing. That’s right, nothing. So we did absolutely nothing.

I did not go into the RDA.

I did not go to the store.

We did not leave the house at all.

We did not even open the door.

We napped, I’m pretty sure.

Then I came back from Seussland and made us some dinner. After a bit of time in front of the TV, we went to bed. It was a truly uneventful day, and it was exactly what Paul wanted.

The next day, however, would have a super stellar surprise. At least it would have had I not been sick all week. Not having had solid food in a couple days, I did not feel comfortable confirming my presence in a small plane the next morning. Yeah, I said plane.

Thanks to Paul’s amazing family, we were able to rent a Piper aircraft, a small, four-seat, single-engine prop plane that Paul could fly, with an instructor present, around Malaysia. Thanks to my sickness, we had to postpone the trip for 10 days, but we did it.

Paul is a professional pilot who spends hours a year in a jet. What he misses, however, is the ability to “fly low and fly slow.” He misses flying just a couple thousand feet above the ground at just a couple hundred miles an hour, taking whichever scenic route he wants, being led only by the potential thunder clouds he wants to avoid. We took quite a few trips in small planes while we were dating and then engaged, but it had been five years since Paul sat in the cockpit of a single-engine aircraft.

We were accompanied by Boon, a Singaporean who did some of his pilot training in the U.S. To be honest, Paul had more time in the Piper aircraft than our instructor, but it gave Paul and opportunity to show his expertise. I laughed when Paul was explaining how to avoid thunderstorms. “You just look out the window and say, (pointing), ‘There’s one, there’s one, there’s one…I’m going to go this way.”

Boon

We started the day in Singapore’s Little India, where we were told we could get a $60 taxi directly to Johor Bahru, Malaysia’s Senai Airport. Well, because we were white, we were charged more than that, even though I stated we had already been advised that the fare would only be $60. We crossed two border checkpoints and received another passport stamp – side note, I can now count my passport stamps on two hands!

Once at the airport, we were advised that we needed to wait an hour for the fog to clear before we would be allowed to take off. Paul let the flight school staff check the plane and then he was advised that he could climb into the left – pilot-in-command – seat. Paul and Boon called out the checklist as I situated myself in the back. I had to make sure that all of the goodies in my bag were secure and that my headset was comfortably placed on my head.

I brought sunscreen and sunglasses for good weather, an umbrella in case it rained, water bottles, a zip-up hoodie in case I got cold, our passports and wallets, the camera and, of course, three pairs of shoes. That I blame on Paul. I wore flip flops for comfort and brought along a pair of heels since we were to be enjoying lunch at a golf resort. Then, just as we were about to leave the house, Paul requested I bring a pair of tennis shoes and casually slipped in, “…in case we end up in the jungle.” “Um,” I replied after thinking a few seconds. “Do you mean in case we happen to land in the jungle?” “Yes.” At that point I might have reconsidered my great idea to rent a plane.

Being in the back, I had a headset that allowed me to listen to the boys’ conversations but prevented me from speaking. Paul thought this was genius. I was fine. I sat in the back and took photos and videos.

Paul took off and only made a slight mistake that was nowhere near life-threatening. He took control well and remembered what it was like to actually have to fly a plane. We got to look out the windows and see Malaysia like this:

Our route to Tioman Island, locally Pulau Tioman, had been prearranged. We followed a path that led us to Malaysia’s east coast and flew north overlooking the water. I tried to capture as many photos as possible but, after a while, found myself in a spot where there wasn’t much else to see. The fog had come in and I was convinced I had some time to flip through my camera to review my captured photos.

I happened to look up and out the window to my right I was surprised to see mountains behind the fog. I don’t know how but we suddenly found ourselves approaching Tioman, a large, tree-covered island (only compared to the small pop-ups we had passed to that point). And, yes, I realize they were not mountains but the tree-covered peaks were beautiful.

We landed next to a school, which was somewhat amusing. It was also fun to learn that the runway paralleled the water and there were mountains on either side.

The view down this side (the direction in which we landed)

And the view this way (in which we took off)

Paul laughed at the sight of danger…literally. He thought this was a pretty funny place to put a runway.

Instead of the nice golf club we were promised, Boon took us to a local place where cats roamed under the tables and cleaned the plates when customers left. This restaurant also made me take note that the next time I visit this island, I need to bring my own napkins, my own soap and yes, even my own toilet paper.

After our 20 U.S.D. smorgasbord that filled the table and attracted all the cats, Paul and I wandered off on our own for a bit. We walked down to the beach where we saw a small boatload of scuba divers coming ashore. Unlike Singapore, the sea was calm and not filled with boats as far as the eye can see. The only boats we saw were parked in the marina.

We walked in the water and I was beyond excited to know that I was walking in the waves of the South China Sea. I felt so blessed with so many opportunities in my life, including the ability to be standing in the South China Sea on a beautiful day.

BIRTHDAY WEEK

When I celebrate my birthday, more often than not in the last decade, I have a “go big or go home” mentality. If I were in therapy, for that I would blame my mother. She was great with the parties my brother and I had as kids. I was recently sent some photos for my first five birthdays and I remember one particular party for my brother and me (because our dates were three days apart) where we had all kinds of people over to celebrate with us, we ate lots of cake and there were goodie bags for everyone to take home.

After five, I have no record of a birthday party. Now, I am not saying that we never celebrated birthdays, we just didn’t go all out for them. As my parents aged, their desire to celebrate turning older dwindled and, I suppose, so did the party planning and hosting desire as well.

When I headed off to college, I decided to celebrate once again. I celebrated 19 because it was my last year as a teenager. I celebrated 20 because it was my first year in a new decade. I celebrated 21 because I could legally drink – and, for me, actually drink at all. Yes, I was that much of a good girl.

When I turned 25, I celebrated the ability to rent a car without an underage fee and the fact that I now had a new box to check on any form: 18 -24? No, not I. I was now the 25-30 box.

I wanted everyone to know it was my birthday. I wanted to go out and celebrate with people I liked. And I did.

This year I was not shy about letting people know that I was turning 30. My husband planned a nice, quiet dinner the night of my birthday and I planned a party the next evening. I had birthday week and it came with seven days of cake.

Day one featured brownies served for a Girls’ Night In event that I host monthly:

Day two was a cinnamon brown sugar cupcake from my favorite bakery, Plain Vanilla in Holland Village. It tastes like spice cake, which is my ultimate favorite:

Day three featured this amazing chocolate Oreo cake from Plain Vanilla. At this point, my Facebook friends were pretty jealous:

Day four was brought to my by Starbucks in the form of a java chip frappucino. The drink had cookies in it so it counts.

Day five featured a lovely cake presented to me at work by my lovely instructor, Becca. So good:

Day six, and my actual birthday, I ate my birthday cake cupcake style. After enjoying a fabulous lunch with my RDA friends we had a hilarious Mexican lunch at Cha Cha Cha in Holland Village. I had a giant margarita because I was trying to numb myself up for my upcoming first-ever bikini wax. It was a way to say I did something really big and scary before turning 30. Yeah, they talked me out of it. I will never forget Gaylin’s response: “It hurt worse than childbirth.” O.K. I’m out. She may have convinced me to get a tattoo instead.

After Mexican, we went, yet again, to Plain Vanilla where I bought everyone the birthday cupcake – milk chocolate chip: yellow cake with chocolate chips, chocolate buttercream icing and topped with chocolate-covered Rice Krispies balls. Fricking amazing. Best. Cake. Ever.

Saturday night was the big party and, yes, there was cake. There was this giant cake which looked absolutely nothing like the photo I sent the bakery but it was yummy and it did say “30”:

I also had 18 various cupcakes around the table for anyone who might have been craving something else.

If you are wondering how I felt about turning 30, let me tell you that it was the opposite of freaking out. I only felt somewhat nervous one time the week prior. For the most part, I was ready. When I think about all the crazy things that happened in my 20s, how immature I was, what college did to me (good and bad), the person I became right after college and the things I have done since, I was ready to say good-bye and be associated with the adult decade.

I divorced my 20s and celebrated 30. After all, 30 is the decade when people will take me seriously. This is the decade for kids and for exciting adventures. I already know who I am so now I just get to enjoy life. To 30, I say, “Bring it.”