Friday, September 02, 2005
Together
by venitha
Our recent trip to Bangkok marked the first time I've been in an airport since we moved to Singapore. In particular, it marked the first time I've been in the airport that delivered me here, retracing the last steps of the fateful journey that's left me here on this little island. As an aside, Changi Airport has got to be the nicest airport in the world, thanks in no small part to its stunningly fabulous restrooms. Seriously, all the other public restrooms in this country should be bowing their toilet seats and chanting "We're not worthy."
As we perused the airline signs in search of Thai Air Asia, temptation whispered in my ear. It would be so easy to ditch Jim in that pristinely clean, immaculately stocked, flatteringly lit, and spacious restroom, to abscond with my passport to the United counter, and to be home in 24 hours.
Was Jim also tempted by this desire to run away, even from me, on his first trip out of Singapore? And, enquiring minds want to know: was he also thoroughly awestruck by Changi Airport's restrooms?
Our frequent mantra here is that we are in this together. But tempers flare in the heat of the afternoon, and we take out our frustrations on each other. Okay, who am I kidding? It's my temper, and it doesn't just flare, it erupts in fiery orange sprays of molten fury. In spite of my strenuous, as I'm sure you can imagine, efforts to find Jim's temper, he doesn't appear to have one, which is a quality that I highly recommend you add right at the top of your list of requirements for the job of lifetime companion if you are a little black cloud like myself.
When darkness descends, however, its cooler temperatures calm my emotions. We enjoy a glass of wine and gaze out at the city lights from our rooftop, and I apologize contritely for my bad behavior. Jim gently reminds me that we're on the same team. It's the two of us against, in Jim's words, all those fuckers out there. This, especially coming from Jim, makes me laugh even to think about now, so let's just put that wonderful ability on our list of requirements for Mr. Right, too, shall we?
When I think of running away, though, it's not just Singapore and this stifling heat that I want to escape. It also myself here. This new person who can't seem to make the simplest decisions. Who is always frizzy and hot and irritable. Who can let entire days go by and have nothing to show for the time. Whose sweaty fingers frequently lose their grip on her composure, her patience, and her temper.
If you leave me, can I come, too? I love this line, packed up safely in a treasure chest in my mind alongside glorious memories of a sunny California summer several lifetimes ago. I could never have predicted then that it would come to be so apt to this life, here in Singapore in the summer of 2005. Thankfully, the other quote I stowed laughingly away that summer, He's not Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now, is far less apropro.
Nope, we are in this together. Thanks for putting up with me, Jim.
venitha
As we perused the airline signs in search of Thai Air Asia, temptation whispered in my ear. It would be so easy to ditch Jim in that pristinely clean, immaculately stocked, flatteringly lit, and spacious restroom, to abscond with my passport to the United counter, and to be home in 24 hours.
Was Jim also tempted by this desire to run away, even from me, on his first trip out of Singapore? And, enquiring minds want to know: was he also thoroughly awestruck by Changi Airport's restrooms?
Our frequent mantra here is that we are in this together. But tempers flare in the heat of the afternoon, and we take out our frustrations on each other. Okay, who am I kidding? It's my temper, and it doesn't just flare, it erupts in fiery orange sprays of molten fury. In spite of my strenuous, as I'm sure you can imagine, efforts to find Jim's temper, he doesn't appear to have one, which is a quality that I highly recommend you add right at the top of your list of requirements for the job of lifetime companion if you are a little black cloud like myself.
When darkness descends, however, its cooler temperatures calm my emotions. We enjoy a glass of wine and gaze out at the city lights from our rooftop, and I apologize contritely for my bad behavior. Jim gently reminds me that we're on the same team. It's the two of us against, in Jim's words, all those fuckers out there. This, especially coming from Jim, makes me laugh even to think about now, so let's just put that wonderful ability on our list of requirements for Mr. Right, too, shall we?
When I think of running away, though, it's not just Singapore and this stifling heat that I want to escape. It also myself here. This new person who can't seem to make the simplest decisions. Who is always frizzy and hot and irritable. Who can let entire days go by and have nothing to show for the time. Whose sweaty fingers frequently lose their grip on her composure, her patience, and her temper.
If you leave me, can I come, too? I love this line, packed up safely in a treasure chest in my mind alongside glorious memories of a sunny California summer several lifetimes ago. I could never have predicted then that it would come to be so apt to this life, here in Singapore in the summer of 2005. Thankfully, the other quote I stowed laughingly away that summer, He's not Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now, is far less apropro.
Nope, we are in this together. Thanks for putting up with me, Jim.
venitha