Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Thanksgiving
by venitha
It's been far too long since this blog has been worthy of the anonymous hate-mail it receives, so to feed my gluttonous and venomous critics, I've slaved in Singapore a hot kitchen and cooked up a very special Thanksgiving feast...
I was already in bed, though not yet asleep, when Jim returned home, flush from a pleasant holiday dinner with dear friends and their new neighbor, a recent arrival from the US and a big runner.
"And how does he like Singapore?" The big dollop of whipped cream innocence did nothing to disguise the thick slab of pumpkin pie sarcasm beneath. I know from my own sweat-drenched experience that a runner new to Singapore is not giving thanks. Stuck in this same state myself, I'd been unable to face this gathering, had begged off sick and tired: tired of donning a positive mask, sick of Singapore and myself.
Last week in Colorado, again and again, the tables were turned. I was asked this same question, "And how do you like Singapore?" Unlike me, my friends are kind, and this question was delivered with hopeful expectation, a thoughtful server's "Dark meat or white?" when it has not occurred to anyone that I might be a vegetarian.
My standard response: "It's hot." People eye this information, a cold glop of lumpy mashed potatoes, with warranted suspicion. A temperamental hostess, I'm inconsistent in offering up the gravy of elaboration.
Jim tells people, "It has its days." If his response is a Thanksgiving dinner food, it's jellied cranberry relish: I don't get it either.
Pressed to expand beyond the heat, I initially gorged myself on anti-Singapore ranting, but eventually, I served up details about Singapore and my life here for which I am indeed thankful. Eventually, too, I shall discard the Thanksgiving leftovers and indulge in a feast of conveyor-belt sushi: plate after plate of the many things I love above Singapore. Right here on this blog. Eventually. I'm giving plenty of warning as I don't want the shock to kill anyone, least of all the anonymouscowards critics.
venitha
I was already in bed, though not yet asleep, when Jim returned home, flush from a pleasant holiday dinner with dear friends and their new neighbor, a recent arrival from the US and a big runner.
"And how does he like Singapore?" The big dollop of whipped cream innocence did nothing to disguise the thick slab of pumpkin pie sarcasm beneath. I know from my own sweat-drenched experience that a runner new to Singapore is not giving thanks. Stuck in this same state myself, I'd been unable to face this gathering, had begged off sick and tired: tired of donning a positive mask, sick of Singapore and myself.
Last week in Colorado, again and again, the tables were turned. I was asked this same question, "And how do you like Singapore?" Unlike me, my friends are kind, and this question was delivered with hopeful expectation, a thoughtful server's "Dark meat or white?" when it has not occurred to anyone that I might be a vegetarian.
My standard response: "It's hot." People eye this information, a cold glop of lumpy mashed potatoes, with warranted suspicion. A temperamental hostess, I'm inconsistent in offering up the gravy of elaboration.
Jim tells people, "It has its days." If his response is a Thanksgiving dinner food, it's jellied cranberry relish: I don't get it either.
Pressed to expand beyond the heat, I initially gorged myself on anti-Singapore ranting, but eventually, I served up details about Singapore and my life here for which I am indeed thankful. Eventually, too, I shall discard the Thanksgiving leftovers and indulge in a feast of conveyor-belt sushi: plate after plate of the many things I love above Singapore. Right here on this blog. Eventually. I'm giving plenty of warning as I don't want the shock to kill anyone, least of all the anonymous
venitha
