Samaritans in the States

Ok there are really nice people in the States, and I think that’s really understating it.

The moment I lost my wallet, we waited for the next bus service and asked the bus operator if she could help me radio her colleague. She did, patiently parking by the bus stop to get help over the phone, but of course not EVERY American is nice so some passengers started ranting from the back of the bus even though she only stopped like the all of 4 mins, ok whatever you impatient bastards, I felt bad and said I’d just get on the bus, and she said she’ll drop us off somewhere further down while she attempted to communicate with the bus station.

To cut the story short, she dropped us off at this super ulu place and said that at 7.30pm the same bus will loop by that bus stop, which was great, except that it was only 5.30pm. So what did we do? Sat down and sunbathe, not that we had any alternatives. Now after baking in the Sun for half an hour, Samaritan #2 parked his car on the opposite side of the road, came over to us and asked if we were lost. The action sounds very simple but if you consider the thought processes and motivations of a person to actually do something like that, you’ll blow your brains out. In true samaritan fashion, he offered to drive us back to a much less ulu bus stop to wait for the same bus so we could shop around in the meantime. If I was sissier I’d probably have shed a tear, however I did feel so much goodness and love that I kinda forgot how bad I felt about losing the wallet. Thank you Armen from Armenia.

And the icing on the cake; I was informed by my office the next day that someone returned my wallet, intact. That’s Samaritan #3, however anonymous, thank you so much.

I’m starting to feel like “My Little Pony” opening credits.

Expensive Shrek 3

I lost my wallet on the bus, on my way to a date to catch Shrek 3.

USD45 in bills = USD45

NT few thousand = NT Few thousand

Mastercard debit card = Less than $10 (in the account)

Ralph Lauren wallet, Christmas present = Priceless

On a happier note, Shrek 3 was fun! Shall start a separate page for movie reviewed by yours truly. Now just wait for Pirates 3 to seal the deal for me this year.

Maggi Spaghetti (Hey it Rhymes!)

Today’s a good day. It’s all sunny with a mild wind that doesn’t rattle your bones every time it blows, not failing to mention we knocked off at 5pm today because it’s a Sunday. Apparently most places close before 6pm in the area on Sundays, not easily conceivable by someone who grew up in a good o’ industrious Asian society that believes that pure, down-and-dirty hard work is the only key to success.

We went to the only supermarket in the vicinity called Super Fresh to get some groceries, and if you are half as observant as me, you’ll notice most American super/mega-sized stores, apparently also popular ones have names that makes one go “duh”; names like Stop and Shop, Payless Shoes, Super Fresh, Bed Bath and Beyond, Dress for Less… etc.

One postulation is that Americans are so busy killing themselves at work they have no time to appreciate the beauty of a unique and creative shop/brand name.

“Okay my sink’s broken, let’s go bed bath and beyond.”

“Okay I’ve torn my socks but I’ve bust my budget, Dress for Less here we come.”

“Damn I need shoes, Payless shoes sounds good. Who needs to pay more?”

But then again, they knock off at 5pm on Sundays, so here’s the 2nd postulation: Just like how every freakzing diner in the States only serve pizza, subs and fries, Americans love homogeneity. They love the simplicity of mass appeal, and appreciate the fact that these idiot-proof megastores fulfill their needs and don’t require a PhD to understand their functions.

But enough of that. For dinner we wanted to make spaghetti only to find out one of my spaghetti packets was mysteriously missing, very infuriating indeed, particularly when you had already badly defrosted a lump of ground beef (some parts were cooked and the others were cold) and chopped up, tearfully, onions and garlic, and washed the mushrooms. So we decided that the crap instant noodles we bought at Super Fresh some time ago (it’s the only brand we can find in an American supermarket, and it’s ironically called Top Ramen when it’s probably the shittiest instant mee any respectable Asian will ever get to eat.) could be used as a replacement.

We whipped up a maggi spaghetti meal, and very surprisingly it actually tasted good. I think, by accident, we’ve discovered the next-big-thing after maggi goreng.

I was Wrong

Today is a more freakzing day than yesterday and it was raining and it was cold and they didn’t allow us to have our umbrellas up even though we have them at every ride because simply the company policy is that umbrellas aren’t supposed to be up in the evening which was freakzing retarded because people don’t just use umbrellas to keep the sun out they actually use it to shelter from rain you freakzing retards and even after I attempted to use the umbrella on my own discretion it is pockmarked with so many tiny holes like swiss cheese that it only alleviated the freakzing problem a little bit by allowing tiny drops of rain hit me instead of the original big fat drops like wow and I’m so tired I don’t even feel like punctuating my sentences and now I’m off to bed to dream macabre scenarios on what I feel like doing to these freakzing people right now.

Freakzing Weather

The temperature today dipped to an all time low since I came. It’s less than 10 degrees celsius and most of us worked without gloves on, since we this was a SUMMER work and travel programme and people don’t naturally wear gloves in Summer, unless you scoop poop at the local zoo, which in this case would be Cape May County Zoo, which is free, btw.

That’s irrelevant though. What’s relevant here is that your fingers cramp up and you find it difficult to bend them, your feet hurt when you walk because it’s so freakzing cold and all you can do to keep warm is dance to the outdated pop music they blast intermittently over the speakers. That was pretty amusing, not just to you; the bypassers probably stifled a snigger as they further ingrained their stereotype that Asians dance like penguins waddling on hot coals.

On a plus side, I’m quite certain tomorrow will be warmer, because it’s either I get a raging fever from the freakzing cold or it couldn’t get any colder than today, since I’m sure as hell not working somewhere in Antartica the last time I checked, else I would be asking for more than just USD7.17 per hour.

The First Post

Location: Wildwood, New Jersey

I’m sitting on my oversized bunk bed, shoes, bags and used tees strewn all over the already limited floorspace, and forever feeling short of breath in my room of claustrophobical proportions.

Not the best conditions to blog I’m sure. Heck, I’m not even sure why I started blogging again. I left the old one abeyant for more than half a year, and the longer I neglected it, the harder it was for me to log in and update it. Guilt maybe, the sense of denial of this lingering fear that readers had abandoned the blog, or that I didn’t really have much to write about my life. Probably all are true, but I don’t think I’ll spend too much time philosophizing about it.

Then I started skinnygiraffe. Out of the blue, unprepared, uninformed. Bam. It just happened. And in New Jersey no less, where I’ve been freezing my butt off for the past 3 weeks, a far cry from the sunny shores of Singapore. Drastic climate change does strange things to a person, but I would like to make a more intelligent postulation how the Big Bam happened. I believe it is the witnessing (for the the first time) the change in seasons. You feel the biting winds breezing through your 3 layers of clothing, 2 layers, 1 layer as days progressed, and now I sit with a thin Timberland linen shirt (purchased at USD 9.99, long live America and your ruthless price cuts!) and a pair of brown shorts. You start to see the cyclical nature of, well, Nature, and perhaps life itself.

Not that I’m complaining Singapore’s so blazin’ hot all the time, I love warm weather btw, it’s just that I’ve never experienced something like this before. And normally when you experience something you’ve not experienced before, you get an epiphany, or somewhat an enlightening moment, like the time when I found out that the addition of all the numerals in a number that is a multiplier of 3 is divisible by 3. Like wow.

Anyway, the gist of what I’m trying to say is that when a blog dies, another one pops up. So here it is. Ok, maybe that wasn’t a very good explanation. Aiya, just know that I have a new bloody blog la. I’ll be writing kinda like a travelogue since I’m gonna be staying in Pizza Land for another 2 months.

Bookmark me. I spent 1 hour doing up the header image. Jolly well show some appreciation, dammit. I mean, if you love/adore me, that is.