Embrace love and life.

I am doing a very bad job with updating this space. I don't know if I have lost my penchant for blogging; whether it is due to the lack of interest or the hectic academic semester but nonetheless I am regretful that I wouldn't have somewhere tangible where I've stored my memories, thoughts and life events to turn back to in future.

That's why I am adamant on blogging about my 21st, even though it's slightly more than a week late.

My 21st birthday definitely felt different, and of course, in a great way. Finally, a birthday celebration that was significant of a rite of passage, I am finally an adult! Can finally sign my own consent forms in university, can vote in the next GE! ;)

The anticipation for the actual day wasn't that high as I had a 8.30am class, and another one later at 3.30pm so it was essentially an entire day in school. But thanks to Facebook, many were notified of my birthday and sent well-wishes, smiles and hugs along the way. I got countless numbers of SMS-es when the clock struck midnight which left with sweet dreams and feeling really happy throughout the day.

My awesome India buddies HX and Parveen even SURPRISED me during Sociology of Food's 20 minute break- a bunch of roses, a delish mixed fruit pavlova from Cedele and a birthday song sang repeatedly outside Four Seasons which caused some mild embarrassment on my part. :p Really didn't expect any of that and I felt the love and am so thankful for the both of them. Thank you the both of you! <3



The highlight of my 21st was my party at Treehouse cafe two days later.






Theme: PAPARAZZI. I don't even know what it really means in terms of the dressing, kinda Hollywood glam, red-carpet, strut, pose, all-modelish I guess?! 





I almost chose the theme 'Joyce's Political Party' since my first major is in Political Science; giving out 'Vote for Joyce' badges, posters of a scandal (no politician is without a scandal anyway!) and wouldn't it be fun to come as your 'favourite' political figures? Sarah Palin, Stalin, LKY, Kim Jong-Il..... I AM SO DOING TO DO THAT NEXT YEAR! :p

My closest girlfriends were such blessings to me. Being the perfectionist that I am, I wanted the whole party to be smooth-sailing, from deco to food to programmes, but I guess I have to just kick back and allow these sort of entertainment events to take its course. However, Slam (the funky pro make-up artist, spicy number emcee and my dearest cell groupie), Sam (the bestie who gave that amazing speech with the hilarious poem we wrote during our younger days!) and Fong (my sister-in-Christ and one heck of an amazing photographer!) were there to sooth my jittered nerves and who made this birthday party a truly memorable one.

I love you girls, life has brought us thus far and I hope to do the same thing a couple of years down the road or should I say, the aisle? ;) My heart can't express the amount of thanks for the help the three of you have so graciously shown that day.



I wish my other close girlfriends could share that day with me, but too bad they were dispersed across the globe or had other plans on that day itself! MG B3 babes (Mish & F5), Olie (who sent a lovely card all the way from San Fran!), Si (who called from Aussie to wish me 'Happy Birthday' and asked if I wanted a hairband or earrings, hehe), Hang, Adora especially! Still, thank you all for the wishes and being there in spirit!

Still, I had a great time with my closest friends that day. SMU school mates- the RunTeam peeps, FTB'08 fellow facis, Frujchaholics, classmates, travel mates, random people I've met along the corridors but are my friends now, Bartley Church CG, AC AA3 lovelies, MG/Girls' Brigade sistas, my dearest family... thank you all for taking time off to make the party such a smashing success! Really, really felt the love!

( MEGA PIC HEAVY. )

And a special shout-out to HX, my roomie for 3 months in India for that lovely acoustic guitar rendition of Jason Mraz's Life Is Wonderful (indeed, it is with my loved ones around)... you have such a great voice and I am really touched beyond words!



Also to my awesome CG guys, Ian and Joash... thank you for the Birthday Song by Corinne May... the lyrics are so so meaningful!! 





I still need to ask Ivan to upload the photos he's taken! Amazing to have friends so interested in photography to capture the special moments :)

And, I got really meaningful gifts that are 'just so Joyce' as friends would say- recipe books, pretty notebooks, vintage print stationery set, a study Bible (thank you CG, this was really what I wanted), a cute chunky ring, cosmetics, various accessories like earrings and a hairband, a bottle of Vodka, a teddy, a daisy, a quaint little picnic basket, 2 storybooks (one of which is The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, one of my favourite books, thanks HX!), a book on Christian dating (yeah, it couldn't come at a better time...), 3 dresses (2 of which have floral prints, and a black one), a couple of gift cards, 3 bags, beautiful cards with even more beautiful words in them... and oh, 1 box of Special-K cereal, 4 cups of low-fat Chocolate pudding, a box of Twinnings Chamomile Vanilla tea, 1 packet of DIY strawberry yogurt, 1 packet of healthy nuts... Haha my roomie knows me so well. BUT I REALLY LOVE EVERY SINGLE THING I'VE RECEIVED but the most important things like MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS ARE PRICELESS. Cliche but it's so true!

(Photo credits: Fong & Sher)

It's durian season now and the pungent smell fills my living room... for the past one plus weeks.



I feel like gagging every time that pong hits me. Like my bestie Sam goes 'Ooooh nasty!' (Miss you babe, this post is also dedicated to you, my durian-lovin' pal)

My head starts feeling giddy, I pinch my nose while yelling at the dudes of the house to 'quickly finish can, there's some major farting going on here'.

When I was younger, I loved eating durians. But now, it's as if I woke up one morning with a taste aversion to the King of Fruits. And I thought eating durian needs acquired taste? Then what is the opposite of that? Losing taste?!

While holidaying in Perth last December, we visited many cheese making factories and had a couple of tasting sessions. Dad couldn't take the taste of the cheese and always denounced their 'tangy' tang. It's the same reaction as getting the ang mohs to eat durians, haha.

I come from a family of durian lovers. My dad is the current champion, he has a record of opening up 16 durians at one go, all in 60 minutes, and trying at least one seed from each fruit.

OH, and the greatest thing of this whole durian season is we get our durians at no cost at all, free. Not that we have a durain tree in our backyard. Not one durian tree, not our backyard...but MANY trees in the GOVT'S backyard, haha.

My estate will be kena bombed first if there is ever an aerial attack in Singapore (choy choy, how can say such thing girl!?!) because we are at the back of Mindef.

But oh boy, that forest (yes it's a forest with dense undergrowth... errr I forgot my physical geog...) had so many durian trees so the fruit you get is naturally sweet, sans all the chemical fertilizers.



A DUMMY'S GUIDE ON PICKING DURIANS AT PHOENIX

To get in, you must understand it's on a first come first served basis.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

If not, the torch-light wielding aunties in PCK boots and helmets (I KID YOU NOT, my neighbors are interesting folks man. Not sure if they're from the construction industry), sticks-snapped-off-from-tree-branches-in-hand uncles in long-sleeved shirt and jeans when it's like 33 degrees C will cast death looks at you. Yes, looks can kill. If it doesn't then their angry nags/complains till the cows come home will.

You will need god-given patience. Because you'll be waiting for 2 things to happen.

1) You must wait for the durians to fall.

Even if the durians have fallen, but if that aunty from the other block, yeah the one living on the 3rd story beats you by 0.01 sec to the little stairwell which you have to gingerly climb down to enter the Land of Durians (other than Malaysia and Thailand), then...

2) You have to wait for your turn.

Your turn will only come when that aunty who should try taking part in the upcoming Beijing Olympics (see durian, RUN!!) is satisfied with her prized accumulation of thorny green things, or as much as she can carry which is usually the case. Displays of greed on full display. How do you carry 10 durians home, even if it is 50 metres?!

Try not to feel too disappointed if she casts you a smug look as she heaves the load, straightens her shirt, wipes the sweat off her brow, while holding on to the torchlight and a bottle of insect repellent.

Your turn will come and you vow to be cooler when you step out of the humid forest (that's not very easy).

According to my maid, theres an endless stream of people who queue to get it. Almost a throwback to the year 1997, where all creatures great and small stood outside McDonalds to get a few cats without a mouth.

(subjected to change without notification)
8am-10am: 2 uncles from the 2nd story.
10am-12pm: 1 auntie from the 3rd story.
12pm-3pm: Empty most of the time because our bodies are not used to the Afghanistan heat+Amazon forest humidity-like conditions.
3pm-5pm: Another auntie with her 11 year old kid.
5pm-8pm: A troop of 5 people... who don't look like they are from our estate?! (our estate is very small, everyone knows each other...)
8pm-9.45pm: Dad and youngest brother, in slippers and ah-pek singlets, armed with an industrial torch light. Specially bought from a hardware store at $42.90 after 20 per cent off. (&#^!(&~#*!@!!)
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4.30AM when even the crickets are sleeping: DAD. Most patience and most disciplined award.

From my bed, I hear my mum complaining cos dad's a lot of noise while getting up to pick durians.

I don't know anyone else who wakes up in the wee hours of the morning to pick durian. Who in the right mind would forgo sleep to go into the dark forest to pick durian?

Only my dad would do it. Hahaha! I am so proud of you dad!

He says he hears the durian drop and gut instincts wake him up. He also remembers which durian came from which tree. My dad can spend the whole Saturday afternoon in the forest (being the kampong boy he was in the past I guess). 2 Saturdays ago, he disappeared for 5 hours straight. Hmmm... should I start to feel worried?!

*

Maybe next year, I will videotape the entire durian makan session in my living room, and yes, the competitive durian picking session too.

A food documentary to tickle both your taste and nose buds by my dad, self-proclaimed durian connoiseur.

Newspapers on the floor- check.
One huge butcher knife- check.
Megawati red plastic bag from market- check. (for rubbish)

Basically that's all you need for a hearty (and heaty if you believe my grandmother) durian devouring time.



Whoever said that durians smells like hell (or British gas of the old days, in a milder sense) but tastes like heaven is damn right.

Because I just ate 3 seeds earlier. Not much, but it's a brave start.

My breath smells of durian... duh.

In my freezer now sits 3 huge tubs full (think 1.5 litre ice-cream containers) of the fleshy durian seeds.

And it must be some sort of durian power that made me write this crappy post, hahaha.