18th Month Anniversary: Oscar's - Oyster Wars

13th March 2009

Down the stretch we walked, keeping an eye out for justification of avoiding the above-ground lots; the customary Lamborghini and other manner of show-off cars. Yet strangely, the lots were free of any form of these trophies, and only packed to the brim with the more consumer-friendly picks.

Perhaps a reflection to the night's agenda, a simple and honest celebration that was planned without any hidden romantic agenda, but sprinkled with a touch of deliberate-ness to create a "blast from the past."

Dress in the exact same attire from a year back as an innuendo-riddled tribute to add to the commemoration of an annual-tradition that was just starting to take shape, we stepped into the Conrad's hotel lobby, only to be greeted by a hospitable hotel staff who was more than willing to show us to our destination.

Oscar's was a similar yet different dining experience as opposed to last year's Town Restaurant. Set in a more casual setting without too much grandiose, the thematic colours of yellow and black ran through both the decor of the indoor and outdoor dining areas, while the occasional mirror and wall-long paintings lined the walls for good measure.

But the decor was secondary when it came to buffets, as a buffet is only worth its weight in the food quality and variety it provides, and to quote a now-probably-defunct-restaurant's slogan, "the surprise is in the food." And Oscar's had one particular trick up its sleeve that had me smiling with glee for the entire night.

Starting off with the buffet staple of fresh seafood, I went for my usual assortment of fresh-off-the-ice spread of shelled-seafood with an excessively-indulgent dose of sashimi on the side thrown in for more than a good measure.

Not pictured: Too much Sashimi

With the passing of age (and maybe due to a penchant for fine-dining), my taste-buds over the years have grown to become more attuned to what I like to call the "essence" the food, tasting the dish with a minimalist approach with hardly any additional sauce or spices just to fully take in the taste of the meat. And seafood (western ones at least) is one area that I always try to exercise said approach towards the dishes.

Of course, my partner in crime, being the young-un that she is, is still very much into drowning her dishes with all sorts of gravy that she can get her hands on. But still, through the disagreement of the approach, we could still more or less agree that the prawns were the surprise tops in freshness over the crayfish, crab and lobster available. But of course to me, 3 different types of sashimi is in a league of its own.

Partners in Crime

Perhaps that's why when it came to the hot dishes, usually laden with all manner of gravy and sauces; she was a lot keener in the samples than my obligatory approach. Having said that though, the lamb shoulder, lemon chicken, Thai-style crayfish and the cheese pasta definitely left an impression on me.

Now, which Plate could be Mine?

Red (Spolier) Alert

But the real highlight of the night, for me at least, was the one-man-war that I was waging against the oysters' alliance. With a mind-blowing spread of oysters separated into their country and location of origin, I was hell-bent on becoming an oyster-connoisseur by the end of the night, punctuating each round of the buffet proper with a regenerating plate of oysters.

I tried roping in my dear partner into my war, but being the general non-fan that she was, she only presented a patronising effort, sampling only the French oysters and expressing her total abhorrence towards the Australian Coffin Bay ones.

Fortunately for me, I had allies in white on the other side of the counter, always ready and willing to shell the lucky few that I had hand-picked on-the-spot to ensure maximum freshness of the oysters, and give me a helping hand (and knife) in my journey of gaining the revered status of Oyster Connoisseur.

By the end of the night, I was ready to draw my conclusions, from the intense and immense samplings of the different types of oysters. Australian Oysters tend to be darker in color, somewhat smaller and bear the aftertaste of the oysters in the Chinese Oyster Omelettes. The French seem to have really salty seas, as both types of French Oysters came across as extremely salty, but their texture was smooth and slippery.

But the real winner of the night had to be the Canadian Oysters, with just the right amount of flavour, succulent and juicy flesh the slips easily into one's mouth and melts just as easily within it, the essence of the oysters just "explodes in your mouth"(ahem), and results in an eye-batting sense of orgasmic-euphoria (double-innuendo) after each piece. Apparently, the rest of the room seemed to agree with me, as the Canadian Oysters were all-out before the end of the night.

"Oyster Connoisseur" with his mighty fork, the "Oyster Bane"

Needless to say, the night ended with a cityscape's worth of desserts, always her favourite part. If there's one thing that I have to give it to her, is that her Sweet Tooth is definitely a lot more decayed than mine, always craving and always preparing space in my little tummy for the sweet finish.

Definitely in her Element

Through the ranks of creamy mousses, the fruity tarts and the fluffy and sweet cakes, the one particular outstanding dessert was the passionfruit ice-cream. Particularly proud of her artistic and professional-looking self-placed garnish, she cringed her face when she first tasted the Passionfruit ice-cream. Thinking that it was only her not being able to take sour, I scooped off a spoonful of said ice-cream and savoured it too, only to give the exact same reaction. It was stingingly sour, but yet oddly refreshing, amongst all the other sweet treats.

Her Pride and Glory

One Happy Chubby

As we stepped out of the restaurant, only to sit at the couch in the lobby, she walked away from me as I sat there, actively digesting my food. Approaching the piano, she was fiddling with her camera. A few moments later, she ran back to me, pointing at the blinking orange dot. Over the last one and a half years, many things have changed; the fun and the excitement of a budding relationship had been replaced with a comfortable, accommodating, supportive and more mature relationship.

Cool in Candlelight

As the camera flashed, I know that despite these changes, there are just some things that stay the same regardless - like the way she looks in that white dress, for example.

Timbre @ Old School: Trip in Time

Looming overhead, six flights and more than a hundred. Step by step we conquered her, breaths and pants growing increasingly heavy as we slowly but surely made our way to the top. Tiny lights streamed from the roads below, as nothing but the music of crickets beckoned us to proceed down the winding path.

Stairway from Heaven

Up the quiet road and along the refurbished hallways we walked, trying to superimpose the pieces of the past onto the structures of the present; trying to give the function that was to the form that stood before us. "Classrooms perhaps, or maybe the school hall?" we wondered, as we spiralled up the curving pathway, following the sound of music.

The heart of the music was buried under the noise of the crowd that were relishing the joys of a Friday night. High stools and bar-top seats loomed over the rustic cane and rattan furnishes of the lower tables. I tried to pierce my gaze through the threads of time to reimagine our venue in a time that was past, seeing only a blurry vision of what looked like an open carpark, or maybe an old canteen.

Cold and smooth it flushed down my throat, I squeezed my inner cheeks to bring out the last hints of the bitter-aftertaste that was left in my mouth. My recent appreciation had me wondering if the years were indeed catching up with my taste. The sweetness of her's stang through my tongue in a sharp contrast. She pointed out the starriness of the night; I pointed out Orion, thinking of the last time that we gazed.

Stirred and Shaken

A craving satisfied as I bit into the red and orange layer atop the thin crust. The saltiness of the Pepperoni and the chewiness of the Cheese had me longing for another squarish-piece immediately after I had finished my first. Slice-by-slice it disappeared, exposing the wooden pan below in its entirety when it was done. Contemplating over the crumbs, we decided to take it from the top all over again.

Pepperoni and Cheese

Familiar faces took to the stage as I watched on, laughing to her about the coincidence that had transpired. Doubt remained on her face until the moment that he belted out his first line, allowing her to remember the tone and the mannerism. "I told you so," I said, as the acoustic sounds strummed on. We both laughed in unison, reliving the moments of Christmas Eve.

Acoustic (Round)Trip

Madness dawned on us again, but this time in the form of Schizophernia, split down the middle between Mexican and Cajun. Onions and Tortilla chips littered the left half, while Spicy Cajun Chicken composed the right half. "The first cut is the deepest" they say, and indeed it was; as the second round left us with filling more full than fun.

Splitzza

The music played on with the passing of the night, as I waited for those unspoken words. The lights had dimmed and the music had died, but the words she wrote never came to life. Convinced that her song could not be sung through the lips of her muse, we rose from our seats, walking off into the night.

The flash went off, as she receded her smile, running back towards me. The Red Man's posture pointed us towards the direction that we needed to go. The question hanged on the tip of my tongue, as my mind still pondered about those words. She ran up to me, and grasped my hand, sealing my lips as well. We walked with nothing but the music of the crickets, back to the start of it all.

Red between the Legs

You want a (Bigger) Piece of Me?

Starting in March 2009, which in this month, I will be putting more effort into updating my OTHER blog as well as continuing to write about my life and the bizarre happenings of it on this one, and of course, more cryptic narratives that no one can really figure what the hell its all about.

As those who have seen the OTHER blog by now will know that that is more of my portfolio and game-related blog. The biggest change is that I've started a new section, "Game Analysis" where I talk about and discuss games that I've played and some of the points in these games. I will also try to discuss more reads and the industry in general.

So, if you are interested in game design, my thoughts on games, or just games in general, feel free to head over to "the other side" to get double the dosage out of my writing. My goal is to try to update both blogs once every fortnight at least.

But as those of you who have been here for a while, will probably know of my irregularity when it comes to updates, so well....

Anyway, and now is the part for SHAMELESS pimping and advertising....

New Post up at:

http://dark-manifesto.blogspot.com/

P.S.

People have been telling me to think of a catchier name for that blog, but I'm deeply rooted in my dark ideas and can't think of something better. Anyone has any better ideas feel free to run them by me.

Know Thy Maker(s)

IGN.com has just very recently finished their run on the a list of the Top 100 Game Creators, which is basically a who's who in the world of videogames over the last 4 decades or so, spanning 7 console generations.

This is especially note-worthy in my opinion, simply because the heroes in the game industry go relatively unsung of in mass media as compared to the giants of the other media industries, like the movie industry for example.

Needless to say, rather obvious choices like Hideo Kojima, Peter Molyneux, Shinji Mikami and company made the list, but it was refreshing to see some of the forefathers of the industry getting props too.

All-in-all, I would say that its a rather fair list, give or take a few debatable positions, but still... No prizes for guessing who made the top of the list though, it was a far too obvious choice.

Hit the link if you're even remotely interested about finding out the people behind your favorite games.

Top 100 Game Creators

Valentine's Day 2009: Pierside

14th February 2009

"And no, it doesn't start with 'R' darling," I said, the cold-air of the car's air-conditioner blowing into my face, as I continued to keep my eyes on the road.

"Then does it start with 'F'?" she asked.

"What the hell place starts with 'F'?" I asked as callous as possible, the car moving along slowly amongst the exceptionally-heavy Saturday evening traffic.

"Then does it start with 'O'?" She was relentless.

"Well, knowledge is power my dear, just let me feel powerful more just that little longer, ok?" I answered, sensing that she was on to something.

As the car came to a obligatory stop behind three others at a traffic junction, I placed my hand gently on her lap and said, "Actually darling, it starts with a 'P'".

"Haha, I know, 'cos its a 'place' right?" she said cheekily.

I smirked, and remained silent about the subject for the rest of the journey.

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As we turned into the familiar carpark, she probably started to realise that she was on to something with her previous guesses.

Worry started to set in as I parked the car, worried of the sense of underwhelm that came with the grounds of familiarity. I expressed my anxiety verbally as the lift doors shut, while she held my hand reassuringly. I knew that I had probably set a benchmark too high with the last stint, and there was hardly any way I could replicate that sense of wonder, or even come close to it.

As we approached the signboard in a distance, her face lit up with a sense of realization, as I quickly followed up, "See, I told you it starts with a 'P', haha."

She laughed it off as we stepped into the barely-filled restaurant.

The Vacant Room

Divided into a ambient outdoor section facing the Singapore Flyer and the landscape that complimented it, and a modern indoor section that was lined with the light-hazel brown of the wooden furniture couple with white-washed walls, interspaced by frames of reflective mirrors; the setting of Pierside was one that was simple and sleek at the same time, with a generally casual ambience lingering in the air.

"So do you want indoors or outdoors darling?" I asked the customary question whenever we had a choice, even though I have already booked one specifically (which is indoors most of the time).

"I don't mind outdoors," she said.

"'Don't mind' doesn't mean 'yes'," I said in partial jest and in partial fervour to correct the indecisive language used in decision making.

We were ushered to our seats between two other pairs of love-birds, as the waiter presented us with a little card that depicted the menu for the day. Following the general convention, the restaurant had a Valentine's Day set menu, one that I would normally shun, since I tend to believe that you get more value out of a la carte, but then again, the increasing difficulty in finding a locale without a set menu AND without multiple-seating sessions over the past weeks left me choosing the lesser of the two evils in my book.

"We only get to choose the main course, darling." I said to her, as I scrutinized the details of the menu that had been briefly mentioned to me over the phone, "it's either the Salmon or the Beef Cheeks."

Craving for seafood after the slew of meat and poultry dishes that lined my last few fine dining experiences, I had my eye on the Salmon. But her much more recent with a Beef Main Course led us to a little lovers' tug-of-war.

It's funny how these tug-of-wars between lovers tend to play out, instead of trying to claim the winning ground, it tends to become more of a counter-intuitive game of trying to let your partner have his or her way. Obviously, as charming (read imposing) as I was, it was only a matter of time before I managed to give up on the Salmon.

"So what was I like last year on Valentine's Day?" I asked her, as the bread was served to the table.

"You were grouchy," she said, clearly remembering my mood then.

Not having the slightest recollection, I probed for a more elaborate response, "Are you sure? I totally don't remember being grouchy at all."

"Haha. Darling has a very selective memory for this kind of things, in the end, you only remember those things that really mean something to you," she said, taking a jab at my rather selective memory, between the praises about the bread being sweet and to her liking.

The words for a retort hardly surfaced even when the starting sampler, a Salmon Cup was served to the table. The bits of Salmon in the complimentary appetizer were merely a tease to the tongue, tingling the sensations of my tastebuds to the euphoria that would soon follow.

Seafood Platter - Euphoria

As I witnessed the Seafood Platter being served to the table, I knew in my mind that that was my highlight for the day. With a spread of Fresh Oysters, Fried Oysters, Black Mussel Shots, Canadian Tuscanian-baked Scallops and Smoked Yellow Fin Tuna, the seafood spread was had already won me over with its rich colours and its sheer variety.

Not wasting any time, I grabbed the Fresh Oysters and pried away at the succulent flesh with my fork. For me, seafood is one of the draws of Modern Australian cuisine, partially due to the food culture of the island-continent and the freshness of the ingredients.

The Oyster's flesh was effortless detached from its shell, indicating its freshness, and as I chewed on the succulent flesh, I could savour the salty essence of the sea still very much entrapped within its flesh.

Unfortunately, Fresh Oysters are a rather acquired taste, and I failed to see the same level of enjoyment from my company's face, perhaps as a fore-bearing sign of the gastronomical problems it would cause her very much later.

I moved on to the Scallops next, and as I bit into it, I could again pick out the freshness of the scallops underneath the succulent flesh and the cheese layering, so much so that I left half to be consumed later, to prolong the enjoyment for a little bit more.

I was pleasantly surprised when she told me of her liking for the smoked tuna, considering how smoked fish is not too far off from the texture of Sashimi that she stays away from on normal days. She also thoroughly enjoyed the Black Mussel Shots, as I heard the acknowledging "Umm" after she downed the remnants of its sauce.

"I can guess your order of preference for the entire platter," I said to her, confident of my all-knowing mind. "The Scallop, the Mussels, the Smoked Tuna, the Fried Oyster and then the Fresh Oyster, right?"

In semi-shocked, she exclaimed, "How do you know?"

With a prideful nod, I told her to guess mine.

"Hmm, the Scallop, the Fried Oyster?" she asked, seeking some assurance.

I shook my head. Indeed, my enigmatic tastes left her permutating her choices a good 5 times before she got them right.

The main courses arrived to my by-then-already-bellowing appetite, as I looked on at her Salmon and wondered if I made the right choice with the beef.

"You know what, I think that everyone for Valentine's Day, we have Scallops." I said to her, as I raised my fork and knife threateningly over the cowering Beef Cheeks below.

"Haha. And Salmon too," she said, referring to her Salmon Fillet at Morton's exactly a year ago.

Salmon and Asparagus - Nothing can convince me about Asparagus

As she cut sliced off a piece of the Salmon Fillet and sampled it, she immediately concluded that the Salmon with Asparagus was better than last year's Salmon Fillet. As she fed me a slice of it, I couldn't help but agree. The salmon flesh was juicy and aromatic, and was satisfying to bite into. However, being the believer-of-essence-rather-than-sauce, I prefer the salmon as it was rather than when it was mixed with the sweet, fruity sauce that I couldn't tell if it was bore from Cranberry or Raspberry.

Beef Cheeks - Hannibal Lector calls them the most delicious part

My beef main course was of the expected soft texture, considering how some say that the cheeks are 'the best parts' for meat. The dish was overall more salty than sweet, very much more to my liking and leaving me with no regrets for my initial choice in losing (or winning, rather) the lovers' tug-of-war. However, the star of the dish was the crispy potato layer that lined the top of the dish.

"Did I ever tell you why they put potatos in the di-?" I asked.

"Yes," she interrupted me, knowing full well what I was about to say.

"Haha. But I don't care, I still must tell you anyway, it's so that the potato can absorb the sauce and the essence of the meat," I continued regardless. And indeed, the potato layers, both the crispy-top and the mashed-bottom layer fully carried the essence of the dish as I rolled my tongue around them.

"You know what else is a tradition on Valentine's Day?" she asked rhetorically, "Good desserts."

Indeed as I made a downward slice to the Chocolate Tart and watched the warm chocolate lava flowing out from within, I knew that it was something different. And true enough, the addition of a little pastry to make it a tart rather than a cake, took it away from the realms of direct comparison to the still undefeated Chocolate Lava Cake from Morton's last year.

Chocolate Platter - Partners in Crime

It's partners in crime also managed to make an impression next to the absolutely delectable Chocolate Tart, albeit to a much lesser extent. The Vanilla Ice Cream was termed to be made of high-quality vanilla according to my Vanilla-connoisseur, while the Chocolate Macaroon was numbingly sweet, nicely complimenting the somewhat sweet-sour taste of the White Chocolate Panna Cotta that was littered with fresh strawberries, another of her favourites.

The Things we Do to Try not to Bother the Service Staff

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As we walked towards the Merlion to walk off a fraction of the unexpectedly filling dinner, my worries of an underwhelming night out were put to ease, knowing that the relatively-casual ambience of the evening played out right, and besides, there was the consolation of the disaster that was the last year.

"I still can't believe that I was such a spoiler and was grouchy on Valentine's Day," I told her, as we looked across the river to the Esplanade's skyline.

"Haha, you were. 'Cos you were tired from work or something and we got lost too, while looking for the place, remember?" she challenged me.

Looking at the very complex with the 3 different hotels across the river, I recalled last year's scene of walking to the wrong hotel and arriving late for the reservation. "Oh yeah, now I remember," I said.

"See, I told you that you only remember things that involve you, or mean something to you," she said, taking another jab at me.

Suddenly, with a rush of inspiration, I replied, "That's because my mind is always preoccupied with planning for the next major event," ending it with a sheepish grin, as she began to construct her rebuttal.

~Wake

The Lake

"See, I told you it wasn't that hard, right?" he said to me in a somewhat-congratulatory-yet-unassuming tone.

As unbelievable as it was, I had to admit that he was right, all that I really needed was a to take that little (big) step of faith off the rock.

Feeling proud of myself, I took a deep breath to enjoy the view of the vast lake that laid before my eyes; sweeping my gaze slowly across the entire breadth of the lake, seeing the serene mountains standing in silence, setting the backdrop for the few of us that were littered across the different areas of the lake; each given more than enough room to learn the ropes of this magical form of movement.

As if able to read my thoughts, he said with a slight sigh of resignation in his voice, "Sadly, this lake is not big enough for all of us."

Slightly perplexed at what he meant, I hesitated in questioning; so as not to spoil the mood of that glorious moment - I wanted to savour my accomplishment for just that little bit longer...

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The Deep Calleth onto the Deep

I looked down at my feet, seeing them resting gently atop the water's surface, in an almost weightless fashion. Staring deeper into the semi-transparent emerald waters, I saw what seemed to be fishes; hundreds upon hundreds of them swimming under my feet.

Like Koi to bread, they were seemed to trying to swim atop one another, seemingly trying to best one another to get to the water's surface, each one violently struggling and trying to shake and nudge its way to the top; totaling to what seemed like an interlocked web of colours constantly bobbing under my feet.

I tracked the progress of one particular fish, marked with patches of black and orange atop its otherwise golden-white scaly body; seeing it besting one fish after another, climbing higher and higher up the "web", until it neared the water surface where my feet were. As it looked up, and its eyes meeting mine, I was utterly shocked to see the facial features of a middle-aged, thick-browed man looking straight into my eyes, its lips mouthing something that I couldn't quite make out.

As I stared harder and harder at its lips, trying to make out what it was trying to say; I felt myself getting closer and closer to the strange-looking hybrid of a beast, just as I caught hold of a whisper of what it was saying, I felt a hard upward-tug on my left arm.

"Be careful not to get too close to the Creatures of the Deep, they have a strange manner of bringing you down," he said to me with a slightly stern tone that masked the best of intentions, as I stared at him in a momentary state of shock, with my pants dripping wet well-above my knees.

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To Stand but not Walk

"Go on, take a step," he beckoned me, with a slight gesture of his hand following his words.

Obviously, I hesitated. Afterall, I had just learned how to muster up enough Faith in order to stand atop the water's surface, and I was not mentally prepared to take the next step.

Seeing the signs of my hesitation, he went on to say, "It's not everyone that can master how to walk atop the lake's surface; but it's more of a waste for someone who is able to learn how to stand yet not be able to walk, than someone who doesn't even have the gift of being able to stand in the first place."

I stood in my spot, staring at my feet, memories of my face hitting the water from the numerous past failures rushing into my head; a bone-chilling shudder ran through my spine.

"Go on," he said, looking at me with a gentle gaze that was quietly beckoning me.

I faced the mountains, closed my eyes, and lifted one foot off the surface of the water. Without a moment's delay, I quickly put it down and did the same with the other foot. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that I was slightly further away from the rock that I once stood upon.

Feeling a rush of confidence, I took another step, and another and another; each step bigger and bolder than the last. Not much later, I was already hopping, jumping and running circles across the lake's surface, bursting with an innocent, child-like laughter of pure bliss as I skillfully manoeuvred myself across the lake's surface.

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Nobody's Fault

"Look at me," I exclaimed to my lone spectator who was actually already doing what I asked; caught up in the overwhelming magic of the moment.

A string of tricks played out in my mind, as I decided to perform a triple jump, followed by a turn-about 180 one-footed landing. I ran to pick up some momentum, and I lifted my feet off the water's surface. A small hop was met with the feeling my feet sinking slightly under the water's surface, before springing up into the air again, a change of footing, followed by a large leap. I turned counter-clockwise in the air and braced myself for the finishing touch.

I felt the the tip of my toes making contact with the water, as I tried to reach my equilibrium; but just as I thought that I almost got it, I felt something moving beneath my feet - a small uneven hump that passed under my toes, causing me to lose my balance.

My arms flailed desperately in an attempt to stabilise myself, but to no avail. I was falling, fast; and there was nothing I could do to stop the all-too-familiar dreadful feeling of the face making contact with the water's surface - and with a vengeance at that. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, preparing for the worst.

But the worst never came. I opened my eyes to see myself staring eye to eye with a group of the strange-looking Creatures, inches away from the water's surface, as I heard them repeatedly whispering the words, "Help me... Help me...".

"I've got you," he said reassuringly, from behind me.

With a strong tug on my two arms, he pulled me back upright. Still slightly shaken from the near-misfortune, my dwindling Faith almost caused my wobbly legs to give way and had me plunging leg-first into the deep; if not for another timely save.

Finally, able to stand on my own two feet again, something suddenly occurred to me. "That's weird, of all the times, why is it only this time that you saved me from falling?" I asked my companion.

"Well, for all the times before, you fell because of the fault in your faith; but this time around, it was nobody's fault."

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Wake

Puzzled at his comment, I stared at him blankly. "I don't get it," I said.

"You see that girl over there," he pointed to a short, rather cute-looking girl with long, dark hair not too far off.

"Yeah, she's learning to walk too. What about her?" I asked, still equally puzzled, as I saw her taking a big jump and making a somewhat wobbly landing.

He said nothing.

"Yeah, so what about... whoa! What was that?" I exclaimed in shock, feeling another sweeping sensation, running under my feet, almost causing me to lose my balance.

"That was what we call a 'wake'," he said. "Basically, it follows the general principle, 'For every action, a consequence', and what you just felt was merely an instance of it."

"Take a step, and see what happens," he continued.

Doing as I was told, I lifted my feet gently off the surface of the water and placed it back on the surface, causing circular ripples to spread outwards from the point of contact.

"As you can see, for every step that you take, there will be ripples, no matter how lightly you attempt to tread," he explained. "The thing is, these ripples - or your 'wake', going by our terms - will spread further and further across the lake, gradually building in magnitude as they spread further across the lake's surface."

"There are times that your 'wake' meets and resonates with another person's 'wake'; but there are also times that your 'wake' will not, and will thus produce some kind of discord when two wakes clash, or worse, a direct disruption to others, just like how that girl's 'wake' almost caused you great misfortune," he continued, with a glint of wisdom hidden under his comprehending gaze.

"So I guess it's nobody's fault for my near-fall because that girl didn't actually mean to let her 'wake' affect me?" I asked, starting to understand the meaning behind his words.

"Indeed, but that is the way of The Lake, isn't it?" he answered. "Whether it was intentional or not, there will always be repercussions to whatever action you take."

"And what of her?" I asked, pointing to a short and pudgy, green-skinned, She-Troll repeatedly hopping atop the water's surface.

"Sadly, this magical art of Dream-Walking is not exclusive to the pure-hearted," he said, with a deep gaze into nothingness. "There are some who understand the effects of the 'wakes', and manipulate it to suit their own intentions; most of which involving the greed for power or sheer pettiness of the heart."

"Be careful where you tread my son, but more importantly, be careful how you tread," he concluded with a sternness in his deep voice, as he tilted his head downwards and looked up at me.

"This lake is not big enough for all of us it seems," I said, staring out at the vastness of the lake with a strong sense of irony filling my heart, watching as the sun hid behind the mountains in a distance.

"Indeed, my son, indeed."

Between the News

It is hard to deny that the excitement of festivities in general tend to fade with age. I know that Last Christmas almost passed as a Black Christmas if not for a last-ditch effort by the girlfriend to salvage it (and to a resounding success).

This same sense of lost child-like enthusiasm permeates into the Lunar New Year preparations as well, but yet, not all is lost, as this is replaced by a, perhaps more adult motivation, the motivation to dissect the "New" in the New Year to drive different purposes.

Being Chinese, its almost inevitable to be at least partially swept up by the entire Lunar New Year-craze, and perhaps the implications that come with it. With the New Year and the Lunar New Year almost bearing the same message of resolution, change and a fresh start, the period between the New Year and the Lunar New Year is a weird one of transition and reinforcement.

Set resolutions are doubly-enforced with the proximity of the mental markers for these resolutions bearing such close proximity, and yet, it is also the time for second chances, to start the Race to Change for those who missed out at the bang of the New Year, just by that little bit.

In a sense, to have two New Years almost always so closely occurring should result in us Chinese being more susceptible to the hustle and bustle that comes about with the mental markers for change that we set for ourselves with the turn of the year(s).

As I grow older, especially this year, this events that transpired during "transit" time between the New Years has been significantly more jarring...

....I stand at the counter, tired yet relieved from an entire day's work of hunting for what my heart truly desires, through the phone lines. I check the goods, I feel my hand across its body, as I feel a soothing rush of excitement coupled with satisfaction flowing through my body.

I draw out my wallet, sliding the card out from its slot; I pause, hesitating at the price tag and considering the financial liabilities that would come with the object of desire. I brush it off with my optimism of the promise of the New Year, reinforcing it with the desire to obtain it before the other New Year.... and I relent...

- The Excuse of Change -

... Sweat drips off my brow, as I let out a sigh of exhaustion. I stand at the door to observe the my labours over the last two days. Plastic bags upon plastic bags of things left from too long ago lie in the hall, as I stare into my room, appreciating the new sense of spaciousness. I knew that I had already fulfilled one of the things that I set out to do in the New Year, and glad that I got it done before the second marker....

- The Motivation of Change -

..... I sit in the seminar room, taking an awkward sitting position due to the position of my seat in relation to the screen which was display the slides. I stare at, or through rather, the speaker; getting lost in the sea of jargon that was continuously filling up by the second with each movement of her lips.

I stared at the slides, feeling baffled; I looked around at the other 20-odd faces, feeling isolated; I took in a bit of the environment, feeling disorientated; I considered my prospects, feeling uncertain.

Suddenly, my chain of thought was shattered, a bone-chilling feeling rushing through my spine as she uttered the words,

"Welcome to RP."

- The Circumstance of Change -