My Journal

Tracked since 30th July 2009

Two weeks ago I convinced moorookoo (and her Peanut) to join me for a day of leisurely sailing. Oyster Boy had booked a weekend parking lot for his sampan at Sentosa and the only way to get there is to sail. 

For six hours.

I decided to leave that factoid out to my guests, along with other by-the-way nuggets like how they "will have to work", how "the toilet doesn't flush" and how "there will be no shelter". Instead, I baited my dear friend with promise of champagne (which I know deep down she'd be too sick to enjoy) and respite on an exclusive island (Lazarus, where she'd be requested to clean the boat). I had to sell a utopian Riviera afternoon because that was the only way to secure two extra pair of hands on deck. Without them, I would've had to do all the hard stuff and bear all the Oyster Boy flak.   

I'm despicable, and I'm sorrryyy.

Been five days since I last snuggled up to Oyster Boy.

Am now in snowed-out Tasmania struggling to stay thawed while Oyster Boy is somewhere in the Orients doing whatever it is that Oysters do.

Six more days and we'll be meeting in Koh Samui for a week of diving and chilling!

Super psyched about my birthday vacay, though not so about lugging 50kg of his equipment to paradise.

In other news: I'm scheduled to cycle Mt. Wellington tomorrow and can't help feeling that I'm cheating on Plucky. Poor Plucky. He hasn't seen the sun since he left the store.

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Emma Yong, one of my fondest stage actors, has died from stomach cancer. She was only 36. It's a sobering reminder of the fragility of life, the intimacy of death and the power of now. This time two years ago, my first serious love was also fighting his own battle with cancer. He died at age 33 on May 22, 2010. 

"Hey", I could picture God say.

"Live, before it's too late."  

Just found out (yesterday) that I'm covering 10 days of Tasmania starting Tuesday. 

No clue what's going on yet, but the four-day hike scheduled at the end has been cancelled. 

Editor:  So, what do you want to replace the hike with?
Sheabutter:  How about a survival training thing a la Bear Grylls' Man vs. Wild? 
Editor:  Minus the zebra diet right. I'll ask them to draw something up then.
Sheabutter: I don't mind eating zebra...

Oh, what have I just landed myself in. 

Do you guys wanna read about a dirty chick doing Jungle bootcamp? 

P.S. VV, I'll have my Shanghai dates locked by this weekend, but will definitely be there on my birthday. Can't wait to see YOU! 

I spent Sunday with Oyster Boy and two others, playing sailor on a racing sampan. I've never done anything remotely close to sailing before, so everything was fascinating to me. You could give me a knot and I'd get high untying it.

There wasn't any wind that afternoon so we pretty much motored around with the sails down. It was a very gentle immersion into the sport. One of us played driver, one played look-out and two relaxed. Occasionally one of the two relaxers had to throw a rope here, catch a buoy there, avoid a titanic rock and tell a good joke. It was fun but all very la-di-dah. I craved for more adrenaline.

Lucky me, I coaxed Oyster Boy into going hardcore on Labour Day. Just the boat and us. Sails up. No cheating with motors. No faffing. No coddling. 

So.

That was yesterday. 

Also known as the day my face was burnt tangerine from six hours of sun exposure, and the time I discovered a rash guard does shit if sleeves are hiked. It was the day my finger tips grew perma-callous from rope-handling, and legs bruised so swollen from general knock-abouts. 

May 1st - the day I learnt that my heart swells when angled 45° to the wind.

It was my first time sailing, the man does not cut slack, and I like it! 

I love how he screams at me for tacking/ jibing (steering the bow a sharp 90° into eye of wind) the wrong direction, for tacking accidentally (did it four times) or for losing wind. There's something sexy about drumming to the beat of a confident skipper. With him working the sails and me on the tiller, we breached 8 knots. It's nothing exciting but a good-enough speed for a placid day. We flew! Well, at parts :)