Arts & Entertainment

Singtel Singapore GP

7.57pm: I am sitting in front of the telly, a laptop on my…well, lap, and an inquisitive mother near me. I could be at the floating platform with the husband now, why oh why did I not buy the tickets with him? Darn.

8.00pm: And they are off!

8.01pm: Oh, the husband just texted, warm-up time. Oops. He knows me so well. Mum and I were just getting really excited.

8.04pm: Go Massa! Go Alonso!

8.06pm: Alonso has moved up three places. Wow!

8.12pm: “The Trulli train” is truly hilarious, the commentators are rather witty (thank heavens it’s not Tay Ping Hui).

8.15pm: Advertising break?!

8.19pm: Mum keeps exclaiming Ah! Ah! everytime a car takes a sharp turn or goes too near the car in front.

8.21pm: It’s so easy to forget that Hamilton is only 23 and that this is only his second F1 outing.

8.29pm: Piquet has crashed! I quite like the safety car, it’s sleek and speedy. Oh buggeration, advertising break again?

8.35pm: The crash apparently happened across from where the husband is sitting. He is understandably stoked.

8.37pm: Massa has pulled off the fuel hose with him at the pit! It’s stuck to the car and three men can’t pull it off. Looks like it’s a Ferrari mistake.

8.45pm: Alonso is actually leading, due to the deployment of the safety car, multiple pit stops and the Ferrari pit stop chaos. Wow.

9.06pm: Poor Massa. His race is ruined through no fault of his.

9.10pm: Kovalainen pits in under 10 seconds. The speed and efficiency is sort of sexy.

9.14pm: Hamilton is stuck behind Coulthard. I’m feeling secretly gleeful.

9.15pm: The commentator just mentioned that the drivers lose up to 4kg of body weight in fluids due to the high temperature (29 degrees Celsius) and humidity (73 percent).

9.20pm: It’s bizarre to see Alonso’s car zoom by while a SBS double decker cruises leisurely on a bridge above it.

9.23pm: Darn. Good control from Hamilton sees him overtaking Coulthard.

9.36pm: The race is Alonso’s to lose. And Raikkonen has clawed his way back to third, only to pit and fall back down to fifth.

9.40pm: Safety car is out again! Force India has crashed.

9.44pm: Nine laps to go. Safety car is in this lap. I hate advertising breaks.

9.54pm: Raikkonen has crashed! This means that Ferrari does not get a point. It’s not the Scuderia’s day. Or night.

9.58pm: Two laps to go. This track is really Alonso’s, judging by how he had owned it during the practice rounds and now.

10.00pm: Alonso takes the chequered flag! It’s his first since the Australian GP last year, first of the season. And Alonso’s taking a victory lap now, with his fist pumped up in front of him. Well done!

I am so going to the race next year.

Wedding March

ThicknThin: Coffee, tea or me?

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After all the pot-banging and sashaying, it was time to move out of the house and move on to his place for part one of the tea ceremony.

“It’s good business,” advised Ead when I complained a little. “All you do is serve tea and get money for it. When I get married, the more relatives we have, the better! We can serve tea the whole day!”

While the first part of the morning had been unruly and mad, the next part of the journey was a tad saner. The weather was brilliant (stupid, buggering weather, curses, curses!) and the sky was a vivid shade of blue. The dude decided to put the top of the Daihatsu Copen down and we braced ourselves for a breezy and bumpy (the suspension was the pits) ride. As the convoy of cars pulled out of the sleepy town I call home, I felt a little frisson of excitement and exhilaration. It just felt nice to see a whole row of cars following in our wake. Don’t ask me why, I can’t explain it either. Oh, and as I got into the car, I could almost hear Anthony muttering, in my head, “It’s like pushing a cream puff through a keyhole.

At the traffic light, another wedding car pulled up next to us and the occupants – the couple and their slaves – waved to us. As we waved up from our little car to their giant Volvo, all I could think of was, “Hah! We are much cooler than you!”

After the hilarious episode of door opening earlier, the one at his house was smoother in comparison. Two cute kiddos bearing oranges came down to welcome us and I thought that things were actually going quite well. Until we reached his floor and I saw the pot of fire waiting for me.

A pot of fire! Isn’t it usually reserved for prisoners who are released from jail (according to MyDearCorpse shows anyway)? How the heck am I supposed to cross over the threshold in my meringue dress? Nobody told me anything about a pot of fire! Okay, the dude might have but I had thought he was joking.

“I carry you,” volunteered the dude helpfully. I think I almost screeched in disbelief. “Can one,” he assured me, stepping forward to lift me up. He took another step towards the pot, and another and…

“My dress!” I screamed, desperately trying to gather as much tulle into my arms as I could so that I would still have a gown for the dinner. I could feel him heave under the sheer effort – and I don’t even weigh that much! – and then we were in. As he put me down, five layers of tulle and all, I said a prayer of thanks heavenward.

The tea ceremony was pretty routine and the best part of it, to me, was when we were all crowded in his spare bedroom eating lunch. The whole group of us, eating curry chicken and gasping over the roast pork. It just felt so easy and relaxed and as usual, everyone was cracking profoundly dumb jokes and acting stupid. It’s so us. Someone dripped curry on my skirt and I thought I would freak out but I didn’t. I just sat there, happily drinking my Ribena. Skunk shed a tear for his brethren, the roast pig, but was still able to chomp down the meat with much gusto.

The tea ceremony at my place was very relaxed and non-eventful (no fire). The matriarch gave a little speech as we were kneeling in front of her and choked up at one point. Simultaneously, my eyes welled up but I blinked away my tears and warned her not to cry or we will both be ugly boohoo babies (I might have wagged my finger at the mum and said fiercely, “don’t you dare cry!”. Yes, I am mean like that to mumsy). My cousins, on the other hand, were dying to be served tea and I got two gorgeous pendents from them. It’s rather amusing because just three days prior, they had been discussing their purchases blatantly in front of me.

So. Weather perfect. Tea ceremony done. We’ve only got the dinner left and it should go well, right?

Hardy har har.

Part i: The morning

Little Miss Shopaholic

Me! In a book!

I interrupt the wedding recap with this piece of exciting news: I am in a book!

Well not literally, of course. A picture of myself, which I had posted in my flickrstream, had been picked up for this publication:

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It’s called What I Wore Today: Fashion Remixed Online from Beijing to Berlin and is published by Graffito Books.

Admittedly, it’s not me looking at my best but well, at least I look quirky. Better to be interesting-ugly than bland, no? Whee. Anyhow, anyone who is keen to buy the book, let me know. It appears that I can get a nice discount for it.

I feel a bit buggered that I haven’t been able to post much pictures of my wardrobe remixing but with the wedding taking up all my time, snapping pictures of my outfits became a secondary concern. But yes, once the east end is up and running (and I can finally rely on the husband instead of darting to and fro the tripod), there will be more fashion pictures coming right up!

Did I mention that I am pretty stoked about it?

Wedding March

ThicknThin: The morning

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It’s been a week and more since we became Mister and Missus, and everything’s been so different yet so same.

We still live apart. We still work at the same [insert adjective] companies. We don’t see each other everyday. We chat on the phone every night.

But we each have a shiny new band on our ring fingers and a lifetime of memories of the wedding. Despite all the hiccups, it was all kind of funny, on hindsight.

The day had started out peacefully enough. I tumbled out of bed at 6.15am, had a quarrel with a misbehaving water heater before emerging for breakfast. My dearest matriarch had whipped up an army of sandwiches and a cuppa tea. Yums. But before I had time to even take a bite, Lawrence, the make-up artist arrived!

The morning passed by in a whirl. Shortly after, Ead arrived and started shooting. Then the girls and one boy arrived and went on to prepare for the Big Showdown. Some of the relatives poured in and said hi. All the while, I was sitting in the chair, not knowing how I looked, and completely trusting Lawrence. At eight, the boys plus one girl texted to say that they were on the way to my place. At 8.20am, the sound of horns tooting noisily signalled their arrival. So far, so good.

Except that my hair wasn’t done yet, my uncle and aunt had not arrived with the nephew to open the dude’s car door, I can’t be veiled because my uncle and aunt had not arrived! We panicked a little, waited a bit, Ead went down to shoot the boys plus one girl, I bit my perfectly manicured nails in despair and Lawrence promptly finished up with the knot in my hair.

“Something is wrong,” I said to Trev. Hmm. I thought for a bit before realising, oh my, I had forgotten to wear my earrings and the pearl necklaces! Giving a yell of disbelief, I commanded Trev to fetch them from my dressing table and stabbed the earrings through my protesting lobes, before he was called down to be the “door opener” instead. My mum hustled up another set of uncle and aunt to do the deed and I was finally, properly veiled and waiting for my husband.

Except, it was kind of boring just sitting there while the fun went on outside. I could hear the banging of pots and pans and then the strains of a badly mangled “Joy to the World” reached my ears. Then I heard peals of laughter and my cousin dashed in to tell me that the fashion show was happening and it was all very mad. Before I knew it, I heard a familiar voice shouting from behind the closed door, “Dearie! I’m here!”

“Come in!”
“What?”
“COME IN!”

The door opened and he burst in, looking mightily cute. We stared at each other for a bit, grinning widely, and then,

“I think you are supposed to lift up my veil and kiss me.”
“Okay.”

As you can see, we are obviously not very well-versed in this wedding business. Oh well, no time for that, we did the deed and were on our way to his place for the tea ceremony in his brother’s stylish little Daihatsu Copen…

More photos from Popartgirl here.

Friends, Wedding March

What not to believe

6 days.
5 cameras.
4 islands.
3 rings.
2 individuals.
1 honeymoon.

Yup, we are back and looking 20 shades darker than before. We had a whale of a time at Lombok and have plenty of pictures to show for it.

But. That’s not the point of this post. The following is a video that supposedly tells of how the husband and I got together. It’s conceptualised and acted out by our wacky friends, which means that 99% of the “storyline” is nonsensical. But it’s so hilarious that I just had to share the love! I remember standing there in the middle of the ballroom laughing so hard that my sides hurt and my tears flowed freely. I had been expecting embarrassing anecdotes or photo evidence, not a full-blown nutty video.

And it was supremely awesome. The evening had started off badly enough and I was really quite down in the doldrums. But it got better and better and the video was a great antidote.

So, thanks to all our friends who participated in this “Making Of” video, especially our favourite CWB. Lots of lurving, man!

Wedding March

At the other side

airport

So. The wedding day didn’t go exactly as we had planned. I have to be honest and say that I was really, really disappointed but in the heck, what really matters is that we are madly in love and married to each other, right?

Big, big apologies to our guests, especially those who had no tables, had to wait for a long time to be seated, received bad service from the wait staff or had to sit with strangers instead of friends. The move from the outdoors into the ballroom got the hotel staff in a fluster and they really made a mess of things. If we could turn back the clock, we would have done things differently but we can’t. The best thing that we can do now is to offer up our sincerest apologies and hope that somehow, you have had a great night despite the hiccups.

And now, my new husband and I are going off for a short trip to recharge. There will be lots of photos and notes to share when we get back so see you soon!

PS: If you had taken pictures during the wedding, could you kindly upload the high-res versions to Flickr and tag them “jimmyandyann”? That way, we are able to print them.

Wedding March

This is it

The musky scent of lilies is filling up the room, a scent that I have long forgotten.

As I stared down at my two bouquets of stargazer and calla lilies this evening, it suddenly hit me that yes, 24 hours from now, I will be officially married to the boyf. The lilies were perfect, the sky was blue and full of fluffy white clouds. We were sitting in the cosy two-seater, driving along the highway and I felt so full of life, so young and so invincible.

It’s been such a long journey that it’s overwhelming to have the destination stare at me in the face. It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? While I can’t wait to put the ring on his finger, a tiny part of me also wishes that the process is longer because it’s been so enriching putting together the little bits and pieces. Of course, I say this now on hindsight – there have been moments when I have rolled my eyes and wonder why we didn’t just elope. Such as when I was punching out paper hearts at 3:30 in the morning. But truly, we’ve had fun doing this together and to see a wedding that’s so uniquely “us” come to life is just incredible.

Eight years, nine months and 14 days. And a whole lifetime ahead of us. It begins today.

Ah, I should be getting to bed. Wish us luck and when I get back, it’s still going to be the same me, just sporting an additional band on my finger. And oh, with a husband in tow. 😉

I’ll see you guys on the other side.