Author: hannah.ananas

What a day…(!)

Sometimes, it is reeeeeaaallly helpful having a brother with distinctions, who is in the same time zone.  Because sometimes you just might feel like you’re suddenly going to explode from terrible-feeling emotions, and the only remedy around is a chat with your brother… which happens to be the perfect remedy, after all.  ðŸ™‚
Thanks, bro.
Post-a-day 2017

A glimpse of Japanese culture

Tonight, I stopped in at an udon restaurant that is a similar style to Luby’s (pick up a tray, grab side dishes as you will, and order the main hot dish fresh when you get to that section, pay at the end of the sliding bar line) for dinner.  I initially hesitate, figuring out what I want to eat. As I decide upon something, I realize that I don’t know how to say what I want, because the first half of the name is written in kanji.  If it had been reversed, with hiragana first and kanji second, I could have faked my way through.  However, how does one start a word/name with only the end of it?

So, I figured I’d just stumble through verbally, and eventually get someone to lean over the counter a bit to see which picture I was indicating.  As I arrive at the ordering section, and attempt to do just as I had planned, explaining that I can’t read Japanese, but I want this one, please, the man in line behind me does me a solid, and reads aloud the name of the dish for me.

Now he totally didn’t need to do this, as the restaurant worker easily leaned forward to see the  picture anyway, but he, for whatever reason – and I word it this way, because this has not often been my experience here, having people be oh-so-willing to help out the foreign girl – decided to help me.  Therefore, despite my terror of getting caught in a language mess of trying to explain and risking not getting my way, I told the lady at the register to put mine and the man’s meals together.  She seemed a bit caught off guard, but accepted my request, likely assuming that I was actually here with the guy after all.

I paid, accepted my change, thanked the cashier, thanked the man once again as he walked up next to me in line once again, and walked off to my seat around the corner.

A minute later, I went to get some tea from the water and hot green tea dispenser, and saw the man there getting water for himself.  When he saw me, he did the Japanese “Oh!”, though a bit subdued, and thanked me in a very fumbly sort of way (I imagine he isn’t quite accustomed to such a scenario, based on his general appearance and fumbliness.), opting to use the version of thank you that literally means “excuse me”, and bowing as best he could holding his tray and water.  I told him that it was nothing, and thanked him again for the help.

Still sitting at my seat a while later, watching a small spider tiddle across the countertop, I notice the man coming over to me, and I look up at him.  He thanks me again (and again in a very fumbly way), looking a bit embarrassed, and bows a couple more times (which I return with a smile and bow) before leaving the restaurant.

It was quite simple, but I found so much culture in the situation, I wanted to share it.  Plus, this older guy was, in a grandpa sort of way, so cute, I wanted the memory to live on somehow in others.

So, thank you, again, old man.  Really, I appreciated your help, and gave you your meal easily and with delight – it was almost an honor for me to have provided you this token of my gratitude.  Thanks.  ðŸ™‚
Post-a-day 2017

Shower Power

I need to have either a personal assistant of sorts or a recording device in the bathroom for myself.  Practically every single day, when in the shower, I have loads of fabulous ideas (and not just about writing, but about various parts of life).  And, by the time I turn off the water, – and yes, this is even if it is the shortest shower ever – I have forgotten almost all of it.  Then, whatever meager bits remain in the front regions of my memory at that point decide to taunt me after I rush to paper or a computer to jot them down.  So, almost every night, I have this fabulous and effortless brainstorming activity which produces innumerable magnificent ideas, all of which I promptly forget.

The feeling of loss is real, in an odd way.  And yet, it is somehow utterly ridiculous, as well.  Just plain laughable.  I mean, who has their best ideas in the shower, anyway?

Then again, who doesn’t?

I’ve really got to do something about this one… really.  😛

 

Post-a-day 2017

Singapore at a glance

Things I noticed almost immediately about Singapore:

  • The toilets try to attack me (the sensor goes off at the slightest movement to either side, and the power of the water is impressive)
  • Toilet seats I crossed were mostly old and cracked-like all along the edges
  • There was always soap in the bathrooms
  • Fruit is fresh and local and almost never above about one US dollar
  • The technology is noticeable, as is the advanced architecture (literally almost everywhere)
  • Even the old places are beautiful and creative
  • I can’t always understand the accent, despite the fact that English is the language being spoken most of the time (official language since around the 60s, I believe)
  • Taxis are affordable (like actually)
  • The rain is a nice refresher in the afternoon (January, anyway), making life seem magical with the cool yet warm rain
  • People look content with life (as opposed to the stressed look of so many here)
  • People are happy in general
  • Street art is beautiful and passion-filled
  • Architecture might as well be considered street art, with its intense personality and shock factor as you turn the corner
  • You can walk all over
  • Public transit is good and completely affordable
  • There is a huge mix of cultures, with no noticeable dominating population – they’re just Singaporean now, although there are so many ancestral countries represented  (I get that I did not word that quite correctly, but I like how it sounds, so I’m leaving it as-is)
  • Bring an umbrella and tissues everywhere, and you will be safe from any concern
  • I want to be there more often  🙂

 

P.S.  I didn’t notice this one until it was pointed out to me, but I agree with it:

  • It is clean.  Except for the odd bathroom that some owner doesn’t manage too well (like that wretched bathroom at the restaurant in Little India), everywhere I went was clean.  The streets were all clean.  And I think I didn’t notice, because it was just so natural for me to have streets that way.

 

Post-a-day 2017

And Unexpected Story From… Somewhere

Tonight, for whatever reason (aside from the part where one thought links loosely to the next, those tiny threads of ideas drawing you quickly along the ever-unexpected path with them, until you eventually find yourself miles from the original thought, wondering how on Earth you got there), I was reminded of something I wrote a while back.  As I mentioned to my friend when I sent it to her, it is rather messy, and it just kind of came out of me.  One day, the words were just in my head, as though urging me to write them down, and so I did really quickly… It was almost like an ‘I have to do it now’ experience.

I have various theories as to how the story came to me, as well as to why my mind wanted me to write it down on paper (yes, the original is with paper and pen, not computer), but I find them unnecessary to include here, as none of them was present when I actually had the story pouring out of me that odd morning (odd, due to this near-overwhelming necessity to write this story, which had never quite happened to me in such a way until that day).

Anyway, it is sad – dreadfully sad to me, anyway – and it is terrible, and it is a miniature story that asked me to write it down, and somehow got back into my head tonight to get me to share it with the world (well, whatever portion of it will cross this weblog posting, at least).  Enjoy… or whatever… you know…

 

“No,” declared Jessica, exasperated, “I’m not going to call him.”

Yet, even as she spoke, she knew deep down that she would be with him again.  So she wouldn’t call him…, but she’d said nothing about texting.  Or his calling her.

Soon enough, perhaps in a matter of hours, she’d be with him again.  And then, in a matter of minutes, she’d be lying there alone, feeling gross, almost wanting to hurl.  Or else hurl something… he wouldn’t hold her, no matter how she wished it.  He never did…  But, for a few moments, she would feel the pressure of him resting on her chest, and it almost would feel as though it were intentional, as though there were someone – right here and now – who wanted to be with her, who cared for her, who loved her.

Though she knew it wasn’t so.

“This is so messed up,” she would say to him…  And she would mean it.

And yet she couldn’t stop herself.

He was in need, and she could help.  Besides, she had been curious in the first place.  Now she knew.  Perhaps that was a good thing.  If nothing else.  And an icy feeling told her there was nothing else good about it all.

Jessica wouldn’t see how he only appeared to be in need – she was too trusting of him and his word; she had looked up to him for too long to question what he expressed to her.  And so, in her time of extreme need for love, she would leave the love of her friends to go to him, and be robbed of what little she still had, knowingly sacrificing her own happiness and love to help, to serve, to please another.

 

Post-a-day 2017

Round Something

I don’t really want to write tonight, because I’m incredibly tired and somewhat nervous.  I fly out much earlier than I had remembered, and so my bedtime is hours overdue at this point.  Also, my easy and cheap train ride to the airport has turned into a necessary cab ride.  Fortunately this country is actually rather awesome, so the can ride is quite affordable.
I just always get nervous about flying for various reasons, so here I am, once again, nervous.  Add my exhaustion and mental avoidance of thinking about how sad I actually am about leaving here, and you’ve got a good package of not wanting to type up something fancy on my phone.  ðŸ˜›
Post-a-day 2017

Blessings

Today, I got even more medicine from this beautiful place and its beautiful people.  And I didn’t even her close to tears, I had already been so healed by the previous day and a half… after months of depression, I’m not sure I could have been more relieved to discover this fact today.  ðŸ™‚

Here’s to dancing and marriage and goofy, cross-cultural blunders and friends and fun drinks and silly things and the unplanned and lots and lots of colors and fresh fruit.  ðŸ˜€

Post-a-day 2017

Colorful Medicine

Singapore has brought color to my life and tears to my eyes.  I never knew I could be so moved, touched, and inspired by fresh fruit, warm, humid air, and an incredibly varied mix of people around me.  All I had for lunch was freshly squeezed fruit juices, lychee, dragon fruit, and an avocado smoothie; I have never been more moved by a meal, I actually had tears brimming at the acquisition of each part of the meal.

Oh, and the extra-exciting part about it?  It didn’t even cost me $5.  

Add in how architecture is unreasonably, though beautifully varied, and that buildings are not only multicolored, but are any given pretty color you could imagine and in almost any direction you look, it is safe to say that this place is [insert the word that means a boatload more times] more my kind of place to spend a year than Japan.

But that’s okay.  It just gets to be my revival and medicine for the start of this last semester, and I get to appreciate it that much more for its being exactly that, in addition to its initial high ranking on the scale of my likes.  ðŸ™‚
Post-a-day 2017

The Panic of Packing

In the morning, I’m going to a friend’s wedding.  The wedding isn’t until Saturday, but I’m going early, so that I can be sure to make the wedding, and so that I can have some time to play around the town/island.  I’ve never been to Singapore, so this is an exciting adventure for me, in mini form.  (I wonder if they have Minis there…  Also, on which side of the road do they drive?  I don’t remember…)

However, this means that, inevitably, I am up late tonight.  I am always up late the night before a trip – be it packing or just general this-and-thats, I am always up late, and usually much later than usual for that given night of the week (this time being a Wednesday night).

Aaaand, along with that being up late, is that ever-present (when prepping for a trip) sensation that I am forgetting something, something vital.  I have my passport, phone, and boarding pass, so I technically will be able to survive…, but that doesn’t ease my mind off this feeling.  As I was making final touches, I realized that I still hadn’t packed the two pair of shoes I’d needed to pack (for the dance party one night and for the wedding outfit)… things which had been on my mind every day for the past week… thereby giving me evidence that my experiencing this feeling of having forgotten something important is not falsely or without sufficient evidence created – it is not every time that something like that happens, but it is every time that the trip is somehow important that I feel this panic.

Yikes, yikes, yikes, I say!  (Well, I didn’t actually say it at first, but then I read aloud the sentence I’d written, so I did, in fact, say that sentence…, but I’m going to leave it as the italicized thought, because that’s more how it originally occurred as a feeling and all.)

 

Anyway, I’m hoping for the best!

 

P.S.  Does Singapore have beaches??

 

Post-a-day 2017