Funky wine labels

Was speaking to a client's advertiser the other week, Denise Wine. Apart from my first glance at wine of eye-popping vintage (1921!! And they have even earlier ones). I saw these funky labels:
And it has a label name to fit - Obsession.The other place I've seen with really interesting wine labels was Bonny Doon Vineyard near Santa Cruz when my sis drove us out for tastings. The names usually come with label art with tongue-in-cheek humour, e.g. Cardinal Zin has the picture of an evil looking cardinal, Big House comes with a picture of a prison breakout (but I think they've discontinued these two).

As far as names go, I like Bouteille Call best (try pronouncing it out loud). Le Cigare Blanc comes with understated label art, but upon closer inspection, you'll notice that a UFO is beaming down on the vineyard - they even came up with a story to go with it.Check out the cool art on some of these labels:

'Round the 'hood and the r'ver

Don't ask about the apostrophes. I just felt like it.

Took another walk by myself along the river promenade yesterday, armed with just my iPod, camera, pen and paper. And brolly and keys and wallet and tissue and lip balm and gum and...well, I'm always over-prepared. Snapped a few sights along the way.

I think this new condo is called the Cosmopolitan or something like that. It directly faces my block and I must say the tall-pillar architecture sure does draw questions. There has to be a good reason for it, though it does seem like a big waste of cement. I'm just grateful we don't get earthquakes here, so far anyway. From the front, these blocks kinda look like popsicles on sticks.

Although the school building opposite my place has long been vacated, the SBS bus guide still has my stop listed as "opposite River Valley Primary School". (The real RVPS moved to different premises nearby.) There's something about a vacant school building that suggests invisible life within it, almost haunted - not by ghosts, but by the lingering essence of the past presence of children along its empty corridors and within its classrooms. But I can't help noticing how well-maintained it is, considering it hasn't been used for some years. Look at the fresh-ish paint and clean premises.

The school yard is obviously mowed regularly. It seems too tidy to not be in use, but there you have it.

And, strangely, although the grass was obviously mowed very recently, going by the rough crop of cow grass and brown grass shavings strewn about, no one has ever bothered picking up the broken pieces of rope from the dangly thing.
I've always wondered about the couple of broken-down looking godown buildings along the river next to where Saboo Street stretches over the river. I wonder if Bangkok Bank just keeps this one there as a hopelessly depreciated piece of asset, or if it just sold it to someone who forgot it was there, but this latter one seems unlikely, what with property in this area becoming more expensive and prime. Just check out the slick restoration of the buildings standing shoulder-to-shoulder to it:
This is very Singaporean - take our old nostalgic buildings and tart them up. But at least these are not pastel like Chinatown. I think it actually might be cool having an office here if I were in a creative agency (and there are already quite a few of those hiding out in shophouses in the area; also, clients will be grateful to not have to pay an arm and a leg for parking and ERP when dropping by, compared to town offices).

Yet another choice before me

This hasn't been a good week for me. I'm exhausted...but that's something I'm used to anyway. A couple of other things.

It started great - I learnt I was offered a role in what would have been my first job with a professional theatre company. Even better, the rehearsal schedule was entirely in the mornings, which clashes with nothing else I have. Then, during my first rehearsal (at 9am in the friggin morning!), I found out that performance times would clash with five of my weekend Y&W sessions. After some consultation, I realised it was unwise to miss those sessions. So I turned down the role, and another source of income. Not a big deal, but rather disappointing, considering it's the second role I've had to sacrifice this year.

Then the boom was lowered on me. As I was planning to book my tickets for my spring trip, I decided to confirm with Jon that Y&W indeed was going to end on time at the end of February. He confirmed it...before adding, "And there'll be the final showing after that." Contrary to my previous understanding, our final showing will begin production only after our coursework ends, which means another six to eight weeks.

This utterly fucks up mine and my sister's already precarious plans. We invested so much in plotting and planning and treading carefully. I can't imagine telling her this news. I almost can't bear to go through the same, if not more painful discussion again. As it is, some weeks ago when I told her I was planning to depart in mid-March, she was very sorely dismayed and upset. "I thought you said you were coming end of Feb!" "No, I said it'd END at the end of Feb. I need to play it safe. What if it ends late?" That took some soothing over. How about this? How will she react to this? I think I know, and it hurts to think of it.

After I heard Jon on the final showing, I couldn't help it - I had to leave the room to bawl. From the way Jon reacted when I told him that the trip was very important, I don't think he understood just how much it really means to me and how much goes into it.

I miss my sis and little Sean so much, almost unbearably, and I won't even be there when the new baby is born. Being away from them for so long hurts, and it doesn't help that I sense some sub-surface resentment in her about Y&W, even though she does understand what it means to me.

Then it occurred to me - if I delay it two more months, things would get even more fucked up. The Dowager is already lobbying hard for me not to go, not wanting me to be away from her. If I push my trip back to May-June, that will collide right into the annual family July-August trip. I'm pretty sure the notion of not having me around for four months will be all the reason she needs to pull out her entire arsenal to prevent the trip. As if she isn't already putting us through hell.

This boils down to a choice - I have to choose between doing the showing and going on this trip. Both mean so much to me. How do I choose?

This whole Y&W thing has been so emotionally draining for me, even though it makes me really happy as well. Between putting up with my parents' silent denial (my mum referred to theatre as my "hobby" the other day) and dealing with my sister's disappointment, working long hours and indirectly being made to feel like my commitment tp Y&W isn't complete, this is taking a lot out of me.

It feels selfish, but it made me think of all the sacrifices I've had to make. I've always been the one to bend for others and take whatever they send my way up the rear.

Before this year, I haven't gone on any holidays of my own because all my leave was spent on the Santa Cruz trip. Yet the moment I make a choice to do something for myself, everyone goes ballistic on me. My sis understands, but can't help being disappointed, and I don't know if she even realises she's guilting me. She runs away from S'pore to find her own life, leaving me behind. Why does two weeks of MY own life make her so upset with me? I'm totally understanding of her life decisions and don't resent her, so how do I express these thoughts to her without her thinking that I'm guilting her for it? She already gets enough of this from The Dowager.

I spend as much free time with The Dowager as I can spare without being driven to homicide. But that only seems to make her complain more that I'm not spending enough time with her. She doesn't want me to spend time with my sis, yet she kept guilting me for missing this year's trip.

And what was I, the bad sister/aunt/daughter doing on Sean's birthday during this missed trip? I was crying my eyes out alone, missing Sean and my sis, feeling selfish as hell.

And I still feel selfish for wanting to do the showing. I know I shouldn't, but that's what you get for being the youngest, always being the one who has to give way to everyone else without a fight, knowing I'll never ever win. Daffy's never right. She lives her life for everyone else.

After speaking with dear, patient Kelvin and supportive friends, their choice is unanimous. From the start, I already knew in my heart what the choice should be. But it's so difficult, so heart wrenching. Both are equally important to me. But what will be waiting for me, and what will not?

All these thoughts feel so SELFISH!! I feel like standing in front of the mirror and yelling, "SELFISH SELFISH SELFISH!!!" Selfish for thinking that my sis and family will still be there even if Y&W won't wait. Selfish for risking hurting her by telling her about the delayed (and possibly cancelled trip...OUCH to even think of it this way). Selfish for enduring the additional hurt I will feel from missing them even more. Selfish for even wanting my way.

How do I choose?

Ninagawa's Medea

Anyone knows how I can get my hands on a video copy of Ninagawa's Medea production?

I saw a screening of it a couple of months back, and it was absolutely AMAZING, even if it had no subtitles. It blew me away and I had my jaw hanging open most of the way. It was translated into Japanese, but if you know the story and the general plot progression, you won't really need to understand Jap to get what's going on.

I'm hungry to get a copy, but it's impossible to find. So if anyone knows where I can obtain one, let me know.

Now I'm also curious to see what his take on Macbeth was like...

When you allow the dirty minded to come up with sayings

Here are some sayings uttered during my very educational Y&W session this evening. Some are well-known sayings, some were just invented tonight, all are supposed to be dirty. See if you can guess which ones are which.

Whatever tickles your pickle.

Whatever floats your boat.

Whatever pulls your tab.

Whatever gorengs your pisang.

How nerdy am I?

Hooray! I'm hopping on another meme bandwagon!

Lessons for a little girl

Clutching Drooper the floppy stuffed dog and her box of Chinese Chequers, the little girl dashed out of the house onto the front porch. The old family driver sat dozing in his chair. She shook his arm till he opened one bleary eye. She rattled the marbles in the Chinese Chequers box and asked him to play with her. But the sleepy old driver didn't want to play Chinese Chequers. He wanted to rest till it was time for him to drive Mummy somewhere.

The little girl played alone.

The next day, the little girl took Barbie and Ken and ran to the maid. But the maid didn't want to set up a mini rock concert for Barbie and Ken. The maid had to cook lunch after cleaning the living room.

The little girl played alone.

The next day, the little girl pressed her ear against Mummy's room door. She heard the sound of the TV inside Mummy's room. She quietly crept away. Mummy wouldn't want to play while watching her movies.

The little girl played alone.

Then one day, the little girl spotted tiny Susan. Tiny Susan ran about unsteadily on her chubby little legs and was excitedly clambouring after the fat sausage-dog that padded around the yard. Tiny Susan stumbled, landed flat on her tummy, picked herself up with a giggle and ran after the dog again. The little girl clutched the fence grills that separated her from tiny Susan and watched with bright eyes. Tiny Susan's mummy came over and smiled at the little girl. "Would you like to come over play with Susan?" The little girl's heart leapt with excitement, but she didn't dare do any more than smile back shyly.

That evening, the little girl asked Mummy if she could go over the fence and play with tiny Susan. Mummy got angry and said no. The little girl asked why. Mummy got angrier and the little girl didn't dare to ask why again.

The next day, Mummy went out. The little girl stood clutching the fence grills again, watching tiny Susan run around, chasing an errant ball this time. Tiny Susan's mummy came by again and asked, "Won't you come play with Susan?" The little girl looked towards the gate - if Mummy came home now, she'd see her in tiny Susan's yard from the driveway. But if she asked the maid to help her look out for Mummy, she wouldn't get caught. So that's what she did.

And so the little girl slipped between the fence grills to play with tiny Susan. They chased after the ball, giggling all the way. They teased the fat sausage-dog, shrieking with laughter all the way. The little girl tickled tiny Susan, both of them beside themselves with delight.

And then, the little girl saw Mummy's car pulling into the driveway. The maid pointed out to the little girl, somewhat too late, that Mummy had reached home. Mummy got out of the car and glared at the little girl. Mummy commanded the little girl back through the fence and marched her into the house. The little girl listened to Mummy and walked up the stairs. Halfway up the stairs, she turned around, and there was Mummy behind her, a frightening, menacing, angry grimace-smile on Mummy's face, Mummy's eyes bulging fiercely. She went into Mummy's room as Mummy said to.

She fetched the cane from the cupboard like Mummy told her to. She gave the cane to Mummy like she was told to. She then pulled down her own pants and bent over as Mummy told her to, trembling in fear.

Twack! Twack! Twack! "You dare to cry?!" TWACK! TWACK! TWACK! TWACK!

The little girl learnt a valuable lesson that day. She learnt never to reach out to people - that would only lead to pain. She learnt that the only way out of loneliness was more loneliness - she should never try. She learnt that to venture was to get punished - risks were never meant to be taken. She also learnt that it was normal for a mummy to begin the torture of punishment long before the cane ever touches the skin - a long, withering look, dreadful anticipation and the prolonged agony of bringing about your own pain are essential parts of life as a younger. She learnt never to trust someone else to help her watch her back - no one is trustworthy enough to save you pain.

The little girl learnt a lot of things from Mummy.

I'm afraid the tale of the little girl above is a historical representation, with some slight poetic license inserted for more efficient narrative. But the events and essence of it are entirely true. I can even still see the exact expression she had walking up the stairs behind me, the one that turned my blood cold.

Sticking my head into it

If anyone remembers me complaining that work was slower last month, now's the time to snigger at me.

One of my clients was giving me less work because some of his advertisers decided it was cheaper to write the editorials themselves than to let the magazine's writers do it. Also, another client's client pushed back publishing their current issue, so there was a few less articles for me right there. Of course I was bummed as that meant less money for me. So, of course I wished for more work and encouraged all my clients to give me more.

Always be careful what you wish you as you just might get it, as many fiction and screen writers like to use in their stories, all probably thinking what an original idea that is (yeah right). Here's why I feel like I've stuck my own head into a pile of poo - my current work load as of this week is:

- 13 short newsletters, of which I've done 4
- 1 long article, research- and people-intensive
- 1 short article, with interview + product shoot tomorrow morning
- 1 medium article, with interview with 2 people + photo shoot next Monday/Tuesday
- 1 medium article, with interview with 5 people + photo shoot next Monday
- 3 short articles, with event coverage (at least I won't have to do the photos myself)
- plus an upcoming 'major' project that a client warns me is coming up in mid-September

I think I can safely say in advance that my social life is gonna get dampened next week at least!