Enter the Dragon

There must be a gabijillion headlines around the Chinese world using these exact words. And with great apologies to late Yellow Tracksuited One, I add to them.

Yes, the Year of the Water Dragon is upon us. And with little pomp and ceremony, I woke up early, got dressed, ate my daily toast and and bowl of cereal, and took the bus to work. The only celebratory effort I made was to wear y red jacket and scarf today. The day was filled with mindless meetings that go nowhere (nothing new there). And with some fortuity (maybe it’s a lucky day after all), I managed to leave somewhat early. Went to the gym and mucked around the spin bike (for just a bit; my left knee’s not very cooperative these days).

Came home and made a piping hot bowl of noodles for dinner. Was about to do my laundry when I balked; on the principle that it was the first day of Chinese New Year, I decided against doing chores. (Yes, I’m still superstitious like that. I’m Chinese, after all.) To my chagrin, after the last dish was washed up, I couldn’t sweep the floor either. It may be a Swifter (MagicClean) and the technology is new, but the age-old “no sweeping” rule still stands. Call me weird.

It’s at this point that I shall call it a night and go to bed early. Like before midnight early. Very unusual, but my eyes can barely stay open. I suspect it’s the remnants of jet lag screwing up my system because I wake up early too, like before 6 a.m. early. On my own body clock, which is even more unusual. Could this be the end of 2 a.m. nights and the start of a new habit? Some 早睡早起身体健康 thing? Hmm. I guess dragons need enough sleep too.

May it be a healthful and prosperous year for everyone.

Gong Xi Fa Cai

New Year Quick Joy. Thousand Matter Like Meaning. Year Year Got Fish. Big Lucky Big Profit. Body Form Health Peaceful. Thing Industry Got Become. Essence Spirit Live Splash. Life Meaning Happy Grand. Step Step High Rise. In Out Level Safe. Dragon Horse Mood God. Heart Think Matter Success.

#&*£ $^!%, it’s cold

Back in Singapore, looking at the weather report in Chicago, it seemed surreal because temperatures were unusually high for winter. It looked more like a balmy fall day. Meanwhile, over in Singapore, it was mostly wet and overcast. Well, it was December after all, rainy season and all that. Of course,  a couple of days before I was going to leave, the weather turned. Oh, now the sun comes out. Perfect. Meanwhile, going by the photos people were posting on Facebook, winter finally arrived in Chicago. In the form a a big dump of snow. And now that I’m finally back, touched down to a cold (I was fine throughout the flight until the plane started its descent) and weird inner ear sensations (it’s not an infection, that’s gone, but my ear feels… weird). And jet lag. And winter. C’est la vie.

A long time ago…

Time really flies, has it been a year already? Super Bowl XLVI is looming on the horizon and the hype has already begun.

Wait Wait… from across the world

It’s surreal to be listening to my favorite NPR show Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me from home in Singapore. But I must have my Wait Wait… though. It’s how I know I’m current with my news, namely when I know the answers to the quizzes, especially to Carl Kasell’s Limericks. And it’s important news, like the robber who got beat up when his victim turned out to be a mixed-martial arts artist and UFC participant, that Wisconsin and Michigan are arguing over who looks more like a mitten, that a new species of dinosaurs has been discovered in a museum basement, a guy got caught shoplifting at Walmart on “Shop with a Cop” Day and that Law and Order built an Occupy Wall Street set only to have it occupied by Occupy Wall Street protesters.

I could not make these things up. Get your Wait Wait… podcast here.

Oh, alright. Merry Christmas.

A many, many thousand words

No mood to write (not to mention that I’ve apparently sunk to Singlish; my brain really is mush these days), especially not after I’ve stumbled on and been stumped into flabbergastation (plus I’m making up words now) by such beautiful words, and even more beautiful pictures, presented by the comforting voice of Sir David Attenborough.

I see trees of green… skies of blue…

That now-famous broken window

What’s happening back home?

Frustrated smartphone game player unable to complete Level 16-3? Rioting ornithologists? Occupy MRT Stations? Well, with all the breakdowns that’s happening, people sure ain’t going anywhere.

It’s not 2012 yet, but things can only heat up from here

My first time watching events from this side of the pond.

While it’s common knowledge that politicians overseas, whether in Europe, U.K, or here, run advertising campaigns to promote themselves as well as inform and warn the masses about their rivals, it’s still interesting and an eye opener to watch and see all that’s happening around me first-hand.

For starters, it’s amazing how much effort and money is being poured into the whole process of choosing the Republican candidate. Meaning: these guys are all on the same side and yet there’s so much debate and arguing and back-and-forthing. And the unfolding drama… wow.

I don’t know when it all began but I do remember the time Trump was considered to be possibly, potentially, seriously (?) in the game, when he cast doubt on Obama’s birth certificate. Because, really, that’s the important thing you want to launch your campaign on, questioning the current President’s place of birth (even though the issue has technically been resolved ages ago).

Paul. Pawlenty. Palin. Bachmann. Santorum. Christie. And Perry, who jumped in, guns firing, quickly rising to be the favorite, until that Oops. And Cain, 9-9-9, which could be his solution to the economy or his indiscretions, I’m not sure. (You’re running for the highest office in the nation and don’t think major events in your past might surface? I’m all for buying lottery tickets, but something like this is too much wishful thinking even to me.)

Sheesh.

There was Perry’s ad that made the rounds on the social media front. Also making the rounds on the same front, including on Fail Blog, Perry’s unfortunate choice in wardrobe in said ad, all things considered.

And there’s also the Romney story that goes something like this:

Romney steps into a diner in New Hampshire and sees two elderly guys wearing veteran’s caps having a meal. He sits down with them and they start chatting. One of the gentlemen asks Romney where he stands on gay marriage. Looking at the old guys at the diner in veteran’s caps, Romney replies, oh, of course I’m against it. And the guy goes, well, my husband and I disagree. (via NPR)

Ah, Romney, Mr I’ll-Make-A-Bet-On-National-TV-With-What-The-American-Common-Takes-More-Than-Two-Months-To-Make.

I could not make this stuff up. It’s going to be an interesting 2012.

(Sidenote: my views on these things are generally mine alone, but please, please, just don’t foster intolerance…)

Baaaaa, humbug.

I had to post this just for the headline. (Sorry.)

Jingle jingle

There was “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells” from when we were kids. And “Jingle Balls” when we grew up. A recent one, the Bhangra Jingle Bells. And now, for the executive that’s tied to the office desk during the holidays (who me? Projecting? Not really, this year has not been without its office drama but I think I’m not as time-impoverished as last year… Maybe I’ve just had it and put my foot down), there’s this.

No other Christmas song has inspired as many parodies. There will always be something new every year, nice to know some things will never change.

The North Face and Uggs came out today

Opened the blinds this morning and saw snow. Uh-oh. Got ready for work on time, but somehow still missed my bus by a hair. And what do I do on this coldest morning so far this season? Walk to work. Hey, at least I know I’ll be warm.

Where the heart is, is approximate too.

Stop motion animation. Google street views. Geek toys. Travel. Damn right, I’m posting this.

Address Is Approximate from The Theory on Vimeo.

Chill, dog.

We all could do with moments like this.

Entering the strange and wonderfullish

Pigeon Forge is the sort of city where a conversation such as this could very well have taken place:

“Boss, why do we need another miniature golf course in this city? There are already six of them!”

“Yes, that may be true, but do any of them have a medieval castle, a magical wizard or Pegasus towering over them while they putt?”

Ladies and gentlemen, Pigeon Forge.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a place as kitschy as this. With the right company and enough time, I would love to explore the darker yet rather harmless side of camp.  The way I described it to my friends, though it was entirely lost on them because they are all a bunch millennials (how unlucky for them), as “Genting in the 70′s but with better quality design and materials.”

There’s Wonderworks, the upside down museum. There are mutilple go-kart tracks. Laser tag centers. Themed restaurants. An outlet mall. For reasons beyond my understanding, the world’s largest permanenet Titanic Museum is here in the middle Tennessee. One word: Dollywood. Plus another three: Dollywood’s Splash Country.

And there’s more. Pigeon Forge is the younger of the two sisters.

Gatlinburg is probably where it all started. The scenic ski lifts and gondola. The Space Needle Observation Tower. The countless mountain-themed stores and restaurants. There are at least four Ripley’s Something Or Another (you have no idea how surreal it is to see blue posters advertising sea turtles while walking down a street in the American South) and a Guinness World Book of Records. Vegas has its Little Chapel of Love, here you can get your hillbilly wedding at a bargain at one of the over twenty wedding chapels in town and the surrounding area.

And I can’t complain, this place has more steak and rib joins than one can shake a fork at, and much as I’m watching what I eat these days, especially when it comes to the meat area, when in the south, eat as the southerners eat, at least for a couple of days.

On a more serious note, these towns are right near part of where the Trail of Tears began. (The Trail of Tears is the forced relocation and national movement, and sometimes “death march”, of Native American nations from the southeastern part of the United States following the Indian Removal Act os 1830.)

But why be a wet blanket in a place of fun like this?

Anyway, I wish I had more time to hang around. To soak in more of Mother Nature. And maybe explored some of Mankind’s craziness a little more. Just a teeny bit. When the forest is dark and scary. (Or at least scarier than this.)

Morning has broken

Where the wild spirits are

“Wild” probably isn’t the right word. More like “wilderness”. Or “amateur wilderness”. Not exactly the deep woods. Not where the wild things are. Not “girls gone wild”. Just two friends and a college kid trekking into the near wilderness in search of a waterfall, eating the granola bars, bananas and apples in our bags as we went along to lighten our load, soaking in the tranquility, listening to nothing but the sound of falling water ad rustling trees, and the last remnants of autumn leaves, crisp and dried out, stubbornly hanging on to their branches, rattling against one another in the breeze.

I love the forest.

Great Smoky!

Eight hours in a small Japanese hatchback. Through four states — Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee. Getting lost a few times. Making a couple of detours. A couple of errors on an old map. Chancing on a great place to eat as a result. One supermarket stop for last minute Thanksgiving fixings. One news crew. Darkness. Dinner drama. Not to mention the whole incident of the last-minute cancelled road trip two months ago… I finally make it to the Great Smoky Mountains.

A familiar sunset

It’s not my imagination. When I was in Santa Monica in June, the sun set over the promontory north of Santa Monica beach, which puzzled me because as far as I can recall, I’ve only always seen it set over the ocean. I know, the sun’s position moves around the sky depending on the time of year. I guess it’s just not as pronounced as when you actually see that golden orb in an unfamiliar sight. The previous time I saw it going down over the ocean was earlier in the year, in February or so. I have memories of it from years ago, disappearing into the horizon as my colleagues and I drove up the PCH to dinner. Come to think of it, that took place in November too, like now. A friend says sunrises are more special simply because it’s easy to catch a sunset. And I concur; I haven’t see too many sunrises in my life. But there’s still something to be said about the quintessential sunset over the Pacific.

A little piece of happy place

My colleagues and my clients know it. That I think the best cafe mocha in the world can be found at Urth Cafe. And if they are ever looking for me and I’m not at the hotel lobby glued to my computer, there’s a high chance I’m at Urth. Its cafe mocha, together with an Original Ice Blended from Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf (which to this day I don’t understand why it doesn’t make it beyond the West Coast) and that little Chinese foot reflexology place ten blocks from the hotel are my happy places here.