The Jennifer Blogs

How old am I that the first female tennis reference that popped into my mind was Martina Navritilova? (won Wimbledon nine times, first in 1982) Perhaps I should have come up with one of the Williams sisters or Maria Sharapova. Oh well, I said Martina and I'm sticking with it.



We've got tennis courts at the condos, and I'm really surprised more people aren't using them. I used to love to play tennis when I was in college. I played more racquetball than tennis, but racket (racquet) sports are my thing.



I've been trying to work out more, but let's face it, working out isn't fun. That's why the word "work" is in it. Still, I've been getting up early every morning to hit the gym. A lot of health experts say you should find an activity you love and then do that. Then it won't feel like so much work. Thing is, there's not a lot of fitness involved in MySpace, Facebook or iTunes. So I had to find a different kind of activity.



I had to dig way back to think of something I might like. When I was in grade school, I was a great rope jumper. I was the only white girl on the Double Dutch Jump Roping Team. Yeah, that's right. I was the token white chick. And I was gooooood.

Whaaaaat? 

Anyway, I don't see myself out there jumping rope "for fun," and besides, double dutch is impossible alone. 



I was also a great sprinter. I won all kinds of track and field awards. But I don't run anymore. I had knee surgery a couple of years ago and I'm lucky to climb stairs. I hate riding bike. Besides, it's too easy to grab a taxi.



Then one afternoon the kids asked me if I would come watch them play tennis. I stopped by one afternoon when they were playing and they asked me about the rules. I showed them a few things and both of them were in awe that MOM CAN RUN. In fact, they were kind of laughing at me. They said they don't think they'd ever seen me run before (my son forgets how many times I beat his butt sprinting down the road when we lived in Louisiana and he was supposed to be some big bad runner).

So that's my activity. Tennis. I want to take lessons while I'm here, so today I went and bought a real big-girl, grown-up tennis racquet (racket?). I even convinced my husband to buy one for himself. He tried to talk smack at the sporting goods store, but I have to tell you, I'm afraid he may have to call his Mommy after I whoop him so bad out there. I'm so Martina. (except I like guys)

I feel like the past few days I've had a lot to blog about, but not a lot to say about each individual thing, so thought I could put it all together in one neat little blog and tie it with a bow, then deliver it straight to your computer. How's that sound? Splendid! Let's get started!



BOOK STUFF:

 I recently finished reading the book 19 Minutes by Jodi Picoult. It's the first time I've read any of her books and I am hooked! I don't know if they're all this good, but I chose this book based on the story, not on the author. It's about a school shooting, which my kids think is very morbid -- that Mom can't stop talking about a book she loves that deals with a school shooting. Anyway, it's a great book. You always get to hear what the victims and their families go through, but this one also lets you see inside the shooter's family. The parents -- so distraught -- wondering what went wrong. The shooter himself -- bullied from his first day of kindergarten through the day of the shooting. This is a book I won't forget for a very long time. And I actually hope I never forget the way I felt after finishing the last word. The things we say and do really matter. You have two choices in every situation in which you deal with others - treat them kindly, or don't. Period. If you treat them kindly you may just make someone's day. If you don't, you could be the one to push them over the edge. And maybe neither, but won't you feel a lot better knowing that you treated them kindly anyway?




GEEK STUFF: 
Speaking of the book I just read, it's the second one I finished on my Kindle. I'm so in love with this wonderful electronic gadget! I am currently reading "Size 12 Is Not Fat" on the Kindle, and "Life of Pi" on paperback. I still have a lot of paperbacks that my mom sent me from the US from before I had my Kindle. Books are just so expensive over here. And with the Kindle I don't have to worry about taking up room trying to find places to store them all. I also downloaded The Renaissance Soul on the Kindle. Can't wait to delve into that one! Oh yeah, and Bitter is the New Black.
I'm only a few chapters in to "Life of Pi," by the way, but it's *very* good!




RADIO STUFF:
 I've been reading out loud a lot lately -- practicing, I tell the kids and my husband. I hope to get a job (or two, or a thousand) reading for books on tape, so I want to make sure I can read well. It's not as easy as it seems.
My friend Robin sent me a job ages ago with information on how to apply for a job reading for books on tape - someone was looking for demos. I didn't have my studio here at the time -- it was still on its way from Japan -- and then things got busy and I never did submit anything. I did, however, finally finish recording a short demo of me reading from a book and put it up on the website yesterday.
Oh yeah, the website. It's no longer up at www.jenniferpagemedia.com, but it will be again one day. For now it's on a back site. I'm designing this one myself so I can update it whenever I want to. That's important to me -- to try to keep my demos fresh and the page looking current. So if you want to see what I've done so far -- keep in mind it's STILL under construction -- it's at web.mac.com/radiojen/JPM.




SINGAPORE STUFF: 
I'm meeting a friend Monday at the Bird Park. She's got two kids close in ages to my two. I've only met Nicky once, but we've corresponded by email a lot since before I moved here. I really like her. She's normal. I like normal. You don't find a lot of that here. Nicky is going back to the US next week, so it'll probably be the last time I see her until after summer.
Alicia has been busy with a friend in town and then will be going back to the US soon. That kind of bums me out, cuz who will I hang out with? Who will get me into trouble, and then get me out of it? 
Marso & I were supposed to meet with some of Don's friends here in Singapore. They'll only be here like another month and then are going back to the US for a year. They're missionaries, and are very busy with some training they're conducting before heading back to Florida. We've missed out on seeing them twice, and I'm kind of bummed about it. I cannot begin to tell you how homesick I've been (off and on) for the past couple of months. Seeing some people who know my dear friends back in the US was supposed to make me feel a little closer to home. I hope I get to see them before they leave.




US STUFF: 
Speaking of the US, I got a nice letter today from my friend Melanie and a package in the mail yesterday from Mom. Mom sent microwave popcorn, a sarong, a couple of tank tops, a t-shirt, some pictures and some American candy. Nothing beats letters and goodies from home. 



I have always loved fruits of all kinds - apples, bananas, cherries, and all the way through the alphabet. So when I saw that the ExxonMobil Expats were having a class to teach ladies how to select, cut, prepare and eat fruits from Thailand, I had my name on the list but fast!



I couldn't believe the spread Nantana had laid out for us. Her table was covered in unique delights! The colors and shapes ... the textures! I knew before she began that there was going to be some really good stuff hittin' my mouth that morning!



Now I wish I had taken some notes, but I was too busy eating to hold a pen. The first thing we were served was grilled banana. It wasn't a long banana like you'd see in Publix with a Dole or Chiquita sticker on it. These bananas are smaller. Much smaller. And like I said, they were grilled. Well, actually she said she cooked them in her toaster oven because she doesn't have a grill. It was really good. Definitely very black on the outside, but so tasty on the inside. And Nantana told us the Thai people do not eat those same bananas "raw." Only cooked.



I don't remember the order in which we were served the rest of the fruit, but she also taught us how to choose and prepare rambutan, mango, mangosteen, santal, longkong, pomelo (my favorite), salak, guava, pomegranate and pineapple. I think there may have been some others in there as well.



The pomelo was probably my favorite. It resembles a grapefruit, but doesn't offer the same bitterness as a grapefruit. It was delicious and I can't wait to go buy some this week. My friend Melanie told me these are also available in Florida, but I was never introduced to all the deliciousness that is a pomelo while living in Florida. What a shame!



Before we left, Nantana made us some mango sticky rice. We had to peel our own mango (not an easy task), and the sticky rice was so good! It's basically white rice with coconut milk and sugar. Delicious! I would have never imagined I'd like it because I'm not a fan of the taste of coconut, but this was really good.



If I hadn't gone today I would have missed out on a lot of great fruits that are available here in Singapore. It's not that I'd be worried I wouldn't like them. It's that there's no way I'd ever have figured out how to peel or serve any of them on my own.

Tonight I met my neighbor Moik in the hot tub. He lives across the hall from me and just moved in with his wife last month. We've never had an opportunity before now to chat.



Moik and his wife Maria are here for about the same amount of time we're here, so it looks like they'll be neighbors for the long-haul. I learned that today Moik and Maria went to Malacca and got some great deals on designer handbags and Polo shirts.


I told Moik we hoped to visit Australia this Christmas, so he was telling me what I needed to know. For instance, don't. Don't go at Christmas cuz it's too freakin' hot. Something like 40 or 42 degrees (which is over 100 degrees Fahrenheit). So yeah, duh, it's on the opposite side of the world from America, so of course. So now we're not sure if we'll wait and go in April or May when it's cooler, or if we'll just go someplace different at Christmas. That Moik. He's a wealth of information.



I just like saying his name. Moik. Moik. Moik. It's actually Mike, but when he says it, it sounds more like Moik and it's too fun to say.

In the past if you had asked me what kind of music I like I'd have told you, "anything but rap." That has all changed, and fairly recently.



I used to work out with my iPod, but I always listened to podcasts. While I still enjoy a good podcast every now and then while I'm walking, most of the time these days I prefer music. Rap music. It really motivates me. Sometimes it makes me angry. But usually it just provides a great beat to keep me going. Unless the lyrics just downright make you laugh. Like No Ayer by Flo Rida.



When I was first listening to this song I couldn't wait to hear what an "Ayer" was. And I think I literally said, "Nuh uh!!" out loud when he got to the part that says, "Throw my hands up in the ayer." AIR. It's AIR. A-I-R. Not ayer. It's one syllable. Air. As in hair. Oh wait, you also say hay-er.



That one just makes me laugh. No way I can walk when I'm laughing.

Having lived in Tokyo for six months, I thought it was pretty cool when we came here and saw a store in the mall called Authentic Japanese Souvenirs. There were honestly a few things in Japan I wished we had brought with us, and this was going to give me an opportunity to pick them up here in Singapore.

 I found something of interest, turned it over to see the price and instead saw the words Made In China.

 So much for that.

I just returned from the condo office to voice my complaint over the Speedo Rule. Before walking in and making a complete idiot of myself, though, I walked to where the pool rules are posted to make sure there wasn't something on there that I missed. Indeed there are only two rules. Both apply to safety-type issues.



While I was on that side of the pool I noticed a man and his wife getting ready to swim. He had on a pair of swim shorts like what Jean-Luc wears. I was going to approach him and ask if he had any problems with his bathing suit choice, but as I got close he removed them to reveal a tight little pair of Speedo trunks. I smiled through my teeth and continued toward the office.



I think I frightened the little Singaporean woman behind the counter. I told her my son was kicked out of the pool, and I wanted to know why. It seemed like she was already familiar with the situation. Apparently the security guard who reprimanded my son already filled in the office staff.



She came out of the office, pen and paper in hand, and proceeded to draw for me the different types of bathing suits with which she is familiar. She then wanted me to point to which kind my son was wearing. Then she drew a diagram of the swimming pool and pointed out which areas he could swim in with his current bathing suit. I'm not making this up. He is allowed to swim in the "kiddie pool" with his shorts-style trunks. But to swim in the "Men's Pool" as she called it, he must wear a Speedo. (where the heck is the woman's pool??)

I explained to her that I wasn't trying to cause any trouble, but that my son is 15. FIFTEEN! F-I-F-T-E-E-N. If he puts on a Speedo and a pretty girl walks by, the office may get complaints of a different kind. 



I also explained that since they are "taking complaints," I am actually quite unhappy about my 12 year old daughter having to look at all the European junk hanging out at the pool. In some cases, almost quite literally. 



You would NOT BELIEVE some of the bathing suits out there. One old guy has a pink speedo with white polka dots. A little tiny tight pair of girly panties, if you ask me.



Anyway, she told me to bring the bathing suits my son wears to the office. She will photograph them and write descriptions to send to the management. They will decide on the matter. Whatever. I'm not stupid. I know what that means. And there's no way in heck Marso will ever get in that pool with those things either!

 As disgusted as I am by this, there's a little part of me that wants to invite a bunch of big men to a swimming party at our pool. Is that bad?

 Anyway, I'll let you know what "management" says about the suits.

I've seen some kids do some crazy stuff at the pool here. Everything from cannon balls and pushing each other in the pool to cursing quite loudly and even eating in the pool. Ya know why Jean-Luc got kicked out? Because of what he wasn't wearing.



Okay, calm down. He was definitely wearing a bathing suit. But, he wasn't wearing a Speedo, and apparently that's required here.



The way my son tells it, he and his sister were in the pool when one of the guards here told him that he needed to get out because he wasn't wearing a Speedo. Apparently, people were complaining because he wasn't wearing one.



If it is a rule that you have to wear a Speedo in the pool, it has never been brought to our attention. I will have to go double-check the sign, but it seems I would remember if it said:



Rule 6: 
All men must wear bathing suits 
so tight that we can see what God and
 your momma gave you.



So tomorrow I will have to go to the office to find out what this "rule" is all about. If I knew I was allowed to complain, I'd be complaining about the 65-year-old man who lays by the pool in his Speedo. It's bad enough to see the younger guys wearing them, but there are some things that men over age 40 and men over 200 pounds should not be allowed to wear. One of those is a Speedo. In fact, Speedo is at the top of that list. Yet there appears to be a Speedo Meeting congregating at our pool.



Of course, I must keep in mind that I am not in America, and that here in Singapore there are way more Europeans than anything else. Europeans love to show their junk.



Wish me luck!

I had lunch with my friend Alicia the other day. She's American, and has lived in Singapore for a few years now, so she pretty much knows the ropes. I think she's secretly giving me about three more weeks before I have a maid living in my bomb closet.



Before we moved to Singapore, we knew there was a good chance we may end up hiring some domestic help. We weren't sure if we wanted a live-in or not, but we did talk quite a bit about having someone come in at least part-time to help keep things together. However, the kids also wanted a way to make money and have asked us a few times to please not get a maid. They don't want anyone coming in and taking away their opportunity to make money. However, there has been more than one occasion where we've had to remind them that we could pay just a bit more and have twice the work done. The number of times I've had to re-do a job ... well, I just stopped counting.



Are you still stuck on the line, maid living in my bomb closet? You read it correctly. Under law, Singapore builders had to include bomb shelters/closets in each unit. Every condo we looked at included a bomb closet, however nobody really calls them that. Instead they are referred to as the "maid's quarters."



The bomb closet has no windows. There is no AC. There is only a small square of space. However, right next to the bomb closet/maid's quarters, there's a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and makeshift shower. It's plenty for a maid. I mean, not in America. But in Asia, they tell me it's plenty for a maid.



Tonight I was on the verge of answering an ad. D'Ette had tried to iron her daddy's shirts, but she just didn't use enough starch and I had to re-do them. Ironing is not one of my favorite things to do. On top of that, you are looking at a woman who, when she was a girl, was not allowed to buy anything with cotton in it.



Jen: "Mom, just look at this beautiful shirt!"

Mom (reading the label): "Oh yeah, cute. Too bad it's 100% cotton! This thing will wrinkle!!! We don't even own an iron!"



So you can guess my limit of experience with ironing. I didn't even own anything with cotton in it until I moved into my own place. You know, when you live under your parents' roof, it's their rules. Some girls couldn't wear short skirts. I couldn't wear cotton.



Did I mention we are on our second iron? I ruined the first one. It ran out of water, so I had to refill it. I turned it off, put it flat on the ironing and board and proceeded to pour in the water. When I picked it up, it was very colorful and there was a huge spot missing from my ironing board cover. I haven't replaced the ironing board yet, but had to buy a new iron the next day.



I was reading some ads from expats who are getting ready to leave the country to go back to their homes either for the summer or for good. They are selling a lot of their home items very cheap. I saw a lot of irons for sale, for like $10 and $15 bucks. I'm seriously thinking about stocking up.

I met a new girl in my building yesterday. Her name is Mary. She's from Singapore, but lived in the US for a while too.



Mary and I walked beside one another almost the whole way from the MRT to the gate where we both live. Of course, neither of us knew where the other was going and we walked in silence the entire way.



Once we got inside the gate and realized we were neighbors, we began chatting like old friends. She's been living here for six months now. She moved from near Cleveland. We talked about the gym. She admitted she had never been and wanted to know what it was like. Then she began to turn toward her tower, which just so happened to be *my* tower too. So we talked as we rode the elevator. She got off on the 10th floor. I had another six floors to go before reaching my condo. The whole way I couldn't help but be excited I finally made a friend in my building.



You know how the girl in the stall next to you becomes your new best friend when she's got toilet paper and you don't? "Could you please hand me some toilet paper?" Your hands touch beneath the stall. It's magic. Okay, maybe not quite like that. But admit it. You have so much gratitude for this girl that you want to get her MySpace username, add her to your friends and put her in your Top 8. Then you want to invite her out for drinks and introduce her to your other friends (who you met exactly the same way, only at a different Wal-Mart). Well, that's how I feel about Mary. She didn't hand me toilet paper, but she's my first friend in my condos. That's H U G E. And I know we only talked for just a few minutes, but there was a connection.



Oh crap. I really need to get out more. I just re-read that. Boy do I sound like a stalker. Or maybe like an expat who really needs some friends!



TGFA. Thank God for Alicia. I have gotten out of the house at least once this week. And next week she's taking me shopping. And, next week I'm teaching some other expat women how to build a website, so that'll get me out of the house. See? Mary has nothing to worry about. Until Alicia goes back to the US, anyway.

As anyone who knows me can confirm, I am a huge advocate for animals. I take in all the strays, especially those nobody else wants. In Florida, I had a blind, diabetic poodle to which I had to administer insulin shots twice a day. I also had an epileptic poodle who was prone to having seizures and freaking me out. The third poodle had a problem too, but his wasn't medical. It was just gross. He ate his own poop. (At least he never left a mess!)

I also donate to animal causes - money, time, talents. Whatever they can use, I try to give. In fact, I'm thinking of going into the dog-walking business here, but I'll save those details for a later blog.



Anyway, suffice it to say I love animals. But I also like eating meat. Sorry. I actually envy those people who can give up meat and dairy products. I really love fruits and vegetables, but I can't get myself to eat soy, tofu, a veggie burger or any of those other foods. I'd have to live off salads for breakfast, lunch and dinner if I gave up meat. I just can't stomach the substitutes.



Until this morning.


I've been working out almost every day, so I'm trying to eat healthier too. That includes egg white omelets about three mornings a week. This morning I just barely tapped my second egg. The light above the stove caught it just right and I noticed a feather sticking out of the crack of the egg. For a moment I stood there trying to determine what to do.



If I crack the egg completely open, is there a baby chick inside? Dead, of course, but still traumatic for an animal lover to witness.



I pondered that for a bit, and I'm not sure if it was gross curiosity, extreme bravery or sheer stupidity, but I cracked it wide open. No chick. Just a furry yolk I guess. Actually, it was just a small feather and I guess it must have just not been washed clean before it was sent to the grocery store. Still, it was enough to make me wonder if the vegetarians have it right.



I don't think I'll ever be a "good" vegetarian, but fortunately it's not a religion. I can pick and choose a little more carefully and maybe cut back on my animal products. I won't stop drinking milk (how else would I drink my coffees if not with milk?). I probably won't stop eating eggs, though I may switch to egg whites like Egg Beaters or something similar. I doubt I'll stop eating ham or turkey, but there are a few things I could probably cut out of my diet that would make my vegetarian friends a little proud, and make me healthier in the process.

I just finished reading the book "The Next Thing on My List" by Jill Smolinski. It's about this girl, Jane, who has a "List of Things to Complete By My 25th Birthday." Thing is, it's not her list. She's completing it for a girl who recently died. In the process, she learns a lot about herself. I won't spoil it in case you decide to read the book. (It's fiction - completely made up - chick lit.)

Anyway, I'm sure I'm not the first to start my own list after reading this book. I did feel compelled to start writing my List of Things to Complete By My 25th Birthday. *sigh* Wishful thinking. By my 40th birthday. Granted, that's still a few years away, but I'm going with more than 20 items since List of Things To Complete By My 37th Birthday not only doesn't give me a whole lotta time, and it doesn't sound nearly as glamorous.



So far, I've got things like: sing karaoke (God only knows why cuz I have a horrible voice and I'm petrified, so I guess maybe this is one of those face your fears of humiliation things), learn to play one song on the guitar, learn CPR, give up a bad habit, pick up a good habit, write a book, take a Girl's Trip, walk in a fashion show, go back to San Diego.



I'm just like the character in this book. In fact, from near the beginning of the book I began to identify with her. I'm a world-class procrastinator. I don't know when it all started. All I know is I'm very, very good at it. That's why I'll be counting on friends and family to help me complete my list. I can say I'm very glad that my karaoke-singing friends in Florida are too far away to force me into karaoke night with them and my friend Alicia here in Singapore doesn't read my blogs (I don't think). So I may not be forced into doing that one til I've been able to practice a bit.



If you've got a list - or if you feel compelled to write one - I'd love to know what kind of stuff is on it. Maybe I can steal a few of yours for my list too.

I'm not talking about my daughter this time. I'm talking about my mom. The one who accidentally ordered a "crappuccino" from Starbucks.



Sometimes my mom is just too cute!



To set the story, you need to know my mom works at Wal-Mart as a cashier. Today is her 71st birthday. She doesn't look 71 by any means, but that's what her birth certificate tells us.



Anyway, about a month ago they had a contest at Wal-Mart to see which cashier could sign up the most credit card applicants. My mom was telling me the winner would get a $50 store gift card. With gas prices where they are and her and my dad being on a limited income, she wanted that gift card and she was out for blood, boy. This little sweet lady would ask every customer that came through the line, "Would you like to apply for a Wal-Mart credit card? It only takes a moment." Don't you know this sweet little old lady not only won, but she blew the other cashiers out of the water!



So Mom tells me that after they announce the winner, she is given more hours than all the other cashiers. Some of these women have families to support. But my mom, the credit queen, has earned these hours. She's a valuable employee. She can help Sam Walton's family make more money with high interest credit cards.



The contest is over, but another one begins. The cashiers are told they need to sign up another 10 applicants in a week. There's another prize on the line. Mom wins hands-down. So the next week they do it again. Mom wins again. The manager tells her if she can do it again, she'll treat my mom to dinner. Piece of cake. Mom signs up 10 more. I ask her where she's going to lunch. She says, "Wherever they serve frogs legs and creme brulee."



So now they're doing another contest. She's way ahead.



I told her tonight that there are probably no real contests going on. There's probably some people in suits who can't believe the old lady is doing so well signing up credit card applicants and they're back there making bets.


Suit 1: I'll bet you a hundred bucks the old lady can't sign up another one.

Suit 2: I'll take your bet. Here's $100 bucks.

Suit 3: I'm in. Here's my $100.

Suit 4: Here's mine.

Suit 5: Count me in.

Suit 6: Might as well make it an even $600. Count me in.

Suit 1: What do we give her if she wins?

Suit 2: How about a $25 gift card to the store?

Suit 1: She only has to sign up 10 applicants!

Suit 2: Okay, a $10 gift card.


They all laugh maniacally as she signs up her 10th credit app.



Still, I'm proud of my little 71-year-old mother out there doing her thing. I told her she got into the wrong business. She ought to be selling cars!