World Cup a-frenzy

Some people think it's silly watching 22 men chasing after a ball for 90 mins. But apparently there are many others who think otherwise. Or else why is the World Cup the most widely viewed sporting event in the world?

I can't recall from my sketchy memory when I began watching football. But growing up with the many uncles around me must have effected that influence on the then impressionable young me. While other girls were playing dressing up with their dolls, I was out dribbling football with the uncles. This skinny tanned little niece was undoubtly quite a tomboy in their eyes.

I do not usually follow the Premier League, La Liga, Serie A, or the Bundesliga but I certainly would not miss the World Cup.

The World Cup final in 1994 etched deeply in my memory. Like many Singaporeans, I was up in the wee hours to catch the match between Italy and Brazil. The game was scoreless through extra time. During the penalty shoot out, my fave footballer, Roberto Baggio, alas missed the final penalty kick which made Brazil the winner that year.

As Baggio hung his head with Brazil celebrating behind him, a dull heartache got hold of me and I laid sleepless that night. I couldn't get over the loss for days. It was as if I got dumped by a boyfriend!

I wondered then, 'How does one live with that?'

He answered that in his autobiography years later, '...it affected me for years. It's the worst moment of my career. I still dream about it. If I could erase a moment from my career, it would be that one.'

Well, that's football...

4 years ago, I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time when Germany hosted the World Cup. Though it was just the tiny Stuttgart city, the vibes were electrifying! A huge screen was erected in the park. German fans turned up in full force to support their country in one of the matches. Basking in the cheerful sunny weather with beer in our hands, the mood was a relax one. And when Germany won that match, all hell broke loose! Fans lined and blocked the streets singing, dancing and chanting, 'Berlin, Berlin, wir fahren nach Berlin!' The festive mood was absolutely infectious. No matter we were stuck in the car with tons of happy fans literally pushing the car from side to side, almost causing a concussion among us! We simply giggled merrily away! We were united as one that day because of our support for Germany. It was an incredible first for me.

In the Germany-Argentina match, the heart almost stood still when both teams went into penalty shoot out. The hands were clammy and the breathing shallow. We were in a sport hall with hundreds of fans. The silence in the hall was deafening. That changed minutes later when Germany won. The hall erupted into loud triumphant cheers and I was jumping up and down in joy, hugging the man and the friends. We were all sooo thrilled!!!! 'Is Germany unbeatable?', we couldn't help questioning ourselves silently that day.

But as Italy sealed our defeat with a second goal in the semi-final, the sheer disppointment was ringing loud and clear in our ears. Tears were shed. Including mine. The dull heartache returned. Once again for days, I couldn't get over the loss.

Well, that's football...

The heart hasn't been throbbing too much during this World Cup. Yet. In a few days, Germany and Argentina will meet again for a face off. I will be holding my breath.

Maiden Attempt

Seeing that the present will not be in time for the man's birthday and loathing to have him empty-handed (at least from me) on his special day, I resolved to *surprise surprise* bake him a cake.

I came across a simple butter cake recipe one day and thought it's high time to challenge myself in this unfamiliar territory.

The first undertaking wasn't without its hiccups though. Despite the bright and clear weather, the dark force lingered on.

Lazy to dig out the proper stand mixer the in-laws got me, I made-do with a handheld mixer. Not a very brilliant idea. First, I used the wrong whisks and within seconds, chucks of butter stuck onto them. The whisks refused to move thereafter, no matter how much I persisted on. With a sigh, I reluctantly changed the whisks to another pair of whips.

Was happily creaming the butter and sugar when I noticed wisps of smoke churning out from somewhere. I told myself it must be from the pre-heated oven. I was in denial and I was just too lazy.

The whirl of smoke became too intense to ignore that I had to finally concede the smoke came from the rubbish mixer which I had used less than 5 times.

Resigned, I hastened to dig out the other mixer from its forgotten dusty corner. The cake must be done before the man comes home!!!

The rest was uneventful until the baking pan was in the oven. 30 mins later when I stole a peep at the cake, I was greeted with a burnt-crust-cake. The pan was too near to the top of the oven! *groan* I am so anal!!!

But. It was not a total lost cause.

At long last we got to cut the cake. I must say I wasn't disappointed at all by its warm golden hue. And I was especially happy when our teeth sank into its moist softness, buttery goodness and heavenly richness.

I heart my cake!

Oh, did I mention the man was absolutely delighted that I finally baked him a cake?! :D

Fear and Technology

Geroge Falconer in A Single Man:

Let's just talk about fear.
Fear, after all, is our real enemy.
Fear is taking over our world.
Fear is being used as a tool of manipulation in our society.
It's how politicians peddle policy and how Madison Avenue sells us things that we don't need.
Think about it.
Fear that we're going to be attacked, fear that there are communists lurking around every corner, fear that some little Caribbean country that doesn't believe in our way of life poses a threat to us.
Fear that black culture may take over the world.
Fear of Elvis Presley's hips. Well, maybe that one is a real fear.
Fear that our bad breath might ruin our friendships.
Fear of growing old and being alone.
Fear that we're useless and that no one cares what we have to say.

I was quite moved by the sudden outburst during his lecture in the movie and I especially like the last line.

Is that why these days everyone is racing to blog, tweet, post updates, photos, comments on social networking sites like Facebook so that people can hear us, so that they are aware of how intellectual/popular/cool/beautiful/talented/creative we are, so that they are impressed with us, so that we will not be easily forgotten, so that we will never become a yesterday has-been?

Is that why our 'voices' are getting louder? Our photos flashier and our behaviour an outrageous flaunt to boost our self-esteem?

Is that why documenting every single detail and event in our lives has become our utmost priority and obsession?

Oh dear, we are no strangers to fear but now we have fallen prey to technology as well.

I am whining, not!

I am turning into an Oma (granny). Whose robustness is dwindling with the fast-growing and heavy bump.

After breakfast one morning, I went for my routine swim. Followed by a quick bit of grocery shopping before I hurried home to appease my rumbling stomach. Gobbled up the leftover Gong Bao Ji Ding (宫保鸡丁) and rice from the night before and off I went to the gynecologist (who is a 10min-walk away) to collect some medical papers. Thereafter, I walked to the bank for a spot of banking.

By the time I reached home, the breathing was fast and the panting furious. I was desperate for a seat and a chilled drink. Sitting on the gym ball immediately eased the heavy burden on the back.

With no air-conditioning and fan in the pad, the sudden temperature spike obviously didn't help matters. The heat resulted in a sluggishness and a loss of appetite which even the glutton monster had grudgingly succumbed to. Cooking a warm meal was unthinkable. A refreshing salad was thus in order. Accompanied by my very first German rye bread in 4 years and slabs of sea salt butter.

The palate was teased and pleased. The stomach, however, protested hours later.

The now-familiar burning sensation in the chest and throat woke me up in the wee hours. Thinking it was another mild case of acid reflux, I went on to sit upright on the couch and watch some TV. The heartburn would usually ease up after half an hour or so.

Back in bed, I let out an involuntary loud burp and then a surprise wave of nausea washed over me, acid coming up to the throat.

I scrambled for the basin and the stomach juice wasted no time in gushing out from the throat. Imagine the force and the urgency of the gush because not just the pharynx, the nose too was burning from the acidity. The outpouring lasted for many minutes.

When I dragged myself back to bed, the tummy was bloated with gas and the burning throat choke-full with phlegm. Slumber land seemed so far away....

The next day the body was still reeling from the aftermath.

Now. What with the strains of being preggers and all, I can shamelessly justify the not-so-cheap leather diaper bag which I have recently ordered. Any excuse to buy a bag! *grin*

Footnote: 34 weeks and 17kg heavier. Prefer to stay home now due to the heaviness and the heat. Puffy hands and ankles returned. A sense of anticipation and increasing fear of labour.

My Poison - Datura

Each time I listen to this number, I want to learn playing the piano, to be tripping on the said herbs mentioned in the text and allow my whole self to be transported to this place of mesmerizing piano-y trance induced by the song.

Simply intoxicating.

True and genuine

Yesterday at the man's cousin's to collect some hand-me-downs, her difficult 9-year-old daughter revealed her caring and endearing side which pleasantly surprised me.

Me: L, where is the toilet?
L, looked at me with concern in her eyes: Do you need to throw up?

We've been standing in the cellar for sometime, taking our pick.
L: Are you tired? Would you like to go up and lie down for abit?

Later, L: Would you like to sit down?
And then: Do you want to have a drink?
Best of all: What kind of labour would you be having? Normal or water labour?
(Eh, how does a 9-year-old know about such things?! *chuckle*)

Anyhow, she's so endearingly charming that I couldn't stop beaming fondly at her all evening.

Which reminds me of my dearest 11-year-old nephew who though isn't as attentive (he is a boy!) displayed his loving side as well.

We were boarding the train during rush hour one day. He swiftly squeezed his small body through the scores of humans and scouted for a seat. When he couldn't find one, he exclaimed loudly,' Aiyah, 姑姑 (Aunt), no more seats!', in the hope that someone would give up their seat for me. Well, no such luck!

Later someone got up and in his sudden excitement, he forgot himself and shouted, '姑姑, quick! There is a seat!'

People looked but I was too busy being pleased with his thoughfulness to be bothered with them. I was of course all smiles during the rest of the journey.

Oh kids! What would we do without them?!

Weight woes?!

What have I been up to lately? Busy cooking, whatelse! Seeing no end in the bottomless pit in the stomach, one is safe to say home-cooked meal is the best bet in providing wholesome and nourishing food. The chomp which the man and I particularly relished recently:

Mee Pok dry with Char Siew and Roast Pork

Hor Fun with green pickled chilli

The homemade chilli is now an absolute indispensable item in the kitchen! Single-handedly, this humble condiment completes the whole street food eating experience. And so yes, ladies and gentlemen, my Hor Fun tasted authentic enough!!! *huge grin*

'Enough of eating!' my doc however seems to imply during my last checkup because she reckons I have piled on too much weight. Well, I obstinately disagree and think she is sprouting nonsense. Simply because lately I haven't been stuffing my face as much as I did in the last months. I eat healthily and I stay active by swimming at least 3 times a week. I don't even snack on chips or junk food anymore. My only weakness now is ice-cream which I indulge in moderation and yoghurt. Since I do not see any problem with my diet, I won't hasten to change my present eating habit.

But as if to prove me otherwise, today in the changing cabin at the swimming pool, the bench I was sitting on was mocking me out loud with its creaking and squeaking in its struggle to not buckle under my weight.

Oh well, perhaps I am in denial.

Still. I will not let us starve.

Footnote: 30 weeks and 14kg heavier. Itchy skin has led to unsightly marks caused by uncontrollable scratching. Puking has eased up but not the queasiness. Maybe experiencing false contractions. Prenatal class has started.

On Greece bailout plan

A labour of love

Those books and articles on the labour and delivery process are so enlightening that instead of allaying my fears, the jitters now have their tight grip firmly on my shoulders. You see, cases of a fast and smooth delivery seem far and few these days. Many hours of painful labour appears to rule the day now. And if the Greater Being up there were to decide that the pangs of childbirth weren't enough, he might along the way prescribe some complications to warrant a caesarean or a full operation.

Isn't that great news for a first-time pregger?

But not all hope is lost. By staying active does help in a smooth birth apparently. It appears that walking, yoga, swimming are beneficial for us preggers. Walking however acts up my backache and the one and only maternity yoga class in this ulu place is fully booked, whatelse! Thus, I am left with my favourite sport, swimming!

In spite of the constant fight with the sloth monster and with the fear of endless labour pain lurking at the back of my head, I finally succeeded in dragging my big ass literally off the couch to pack for the swim. Well, it's not like staying with the bestie where I can simply put on the bikini (yes, I can still manage to squeeeeze myself into the two-piece) and throw on a tee and shorts and I am ready to go.

So. Bag packed. Destination reached.

Once in the pool, I took to the water like a fish. It was a good swim albeit having to scurry to the loo every so often. The best part is I felt weightless in the water and my back didn't hurt at all. Overheating and shortness of breath evaporated into thin air.

However, being cautious to not overexert myself, I limited the workout to 45mins and called it a day thereafter.

When stepping out of the water (trying at the same time to do a Ursula Andress but failed miserably of course) to retrieve my towel, I noticed 2 young boys next to me giggling. I turned towards them just in time to hear them whispered, 'Look at her tummy!!!' Well, kids can never master the art of whispering, can they?

That's also when I realised they had no idea about my pregnant state and thought I was just fat!! How cute!

Frankly, seeing other pregger ladies hanging out at the pool in their bikini and some with kids in tow, I admit I am now less conscious about baring my pregger self in public pool. Hence, in order to avoid an arduous labour, I better take pains now to remain active and not succumb to the temptation of The Sloth.

Footnote: 27 weeks and 12kg heavier. Most clothes are too snug now. No more power-puffy ankles though itchy skin is not letting up.

No waist, no ankle and no neck soon?

The slender ankles were vanishing quickly after touching down in sizzling Singapore and the local food laden with sodium, MSG and whatnots certainly sped up the rate of disappearing act.

The bestie and the Lion stared fixedly at my power-puffy ankles and broke into laughter. I chuckled along. The feet were all inflated like a puffer fish and trust me, it's not a pretty sight but totally hilarious. Fitting into that pair of ballerina I brought along was out of question now.

And then the Lion observed: 'Each time I see you, you are always eating!!!'
Me: I can't help it. I am always hungry!!!'

She and the bestie were quite astounded by my bottomless stomach capacity.

Most articles I read advise against pregger ladies to eat for two. Instead they should only add about 300 calories more to their diet each day.

I am not sure about other pregger ladies but the hunger pangs are like my sidekick these days. They are always hovering around and no matter how much I stuff my face to chase them away, they would come back haunting me again in less than a couple of hours. Regardless if it's in the middle of the night.

And of course being back in Singapore means all hell just broke loose. There's no stopping me from launching an offensive on those resplendent food I've been craving since months.

Hence, the Lion's comment that I have now no waist, no ankle and soon no neck too? LOL!!

The weight I have piled on escaped no one of course. Some expressed silent shock on their face while others (usually those who were once pregnant) commented on how great I look.

After the uneasy first trimester where I was struggling to cope with the awful morning sickness, constant throwing up, curious cravings and aversions of food plus changes to the body, now in my 6th month, I've learned to embrace and live with these changes and the demands made on my body.

The friends' harmless teasings I take them in stride. Because being pregger means I have the privileges and the perfect excuse to incessant eating, to weight gain, to walk slower (due to backache and shortness of breath), to rest more often, to special requests like asking for a whole row of 3 seats to myself on the plane etc., all without having to feel apologetic or guilty about it.

I felt loved and blessed basking in the friends' and family's indulgence and attention and now in the man's pampering such as cutting fruits for me every evening, doing most housechores, rubbing my tummy and being more patient towards my needs.

Now all I need to do is sit back and relax and enjoy the kickings and the somersaults in my belly.

The hunger pangs return. Nasi lemak and ayam goreng await.