Taco, Burrito, Chorizo, Fritos and a million Drive-Ins

What's that? I asked, pointing at an odd looking row of booths about the width of OUB Plaza.

That's the ATM drive-in, said the mother-in-law.

Why so many? I asked. We're looking at a small branch in a small town. How many people are going to have a money emergency at this very spot anyway?

People just don't like to get out of their cars, it seems. This is despite the fact that parking is free, like EVERYWHERE. I saw tonnes of drive-in fast food outlets. And drive-in cinemas. Even drive-in pharmacies! The drive-in pharmacies just kill me every time. How is a pharmacist going to suggest appropriate medicine to a voice over the intercom? Sir, by your voice it appears you have explosive diarrhoea. And a kidney stone.

Was on the lookout for other kinds of drive-ins, but haven't seen anything else yet. What next-

Drive-in vet (just shove your sick animal into this here slot, with a note and your credit card authorization)

Drive-in enema (please position your anus under the spot marked X and refrain from clenching)

Drive-in handjobs - wait - I think that's already available everywhere.

But aside from the strangeness, the best part of Texas has to be the pork ribs. And the creamed corn. Especially the creamed corn. Nobody seems to bat an eyelid when I ask for a pint sized carton of creamed corn. Want to upsize that? Can even get the double pint size if I want, but I am afraid of what the voices in my head will be saying to me when I am scraping the bottom of the carton at the end of the evening and licking corn off my hands and face.

The Son has developed a strange and horrifying addiction to, of all things, chocolates that come in the shape of a coin. That's just gross. The stuff is usually found in novelty bags at the bottom shelf of supermarkets, for 69 cents a bag, for goodness sake. Nobody wants to eat the chocolate - it's not even good chocolate. And yet we have a small incessant voice asking non-stop for his "bit zit" about 20 times a day (he thinks it's a biscuit).

I don't think this stuff is available in Singapore. Nobody eats coin chocolates anymore. They're just gross. I feel grossed out just peeling off the foil for him.

Am suffering from Asian stomach. Too much food, too little time. Am constantly eating. My poor brother in law (whom we're staying with) must be wondering if I ever stop eating. After eating the pint of corn 2 days ago, I cleared out about 10 buffalo wings (no dip - too sour), leftover turkey from the fridge, all the apple juice, some fritos (no dip - too starchy), 1 can of Campbell's Mushroom soup, a hot dog, coffee, leftover pizza from the fridge, some leftover chicken soup, 3 corn on the cob (yum) and some fries. Didn't finish the fries - felt guilty. Actually, I feel guilty now for not finishing the fries. Half the world is starving and the other half is throwing away their fries.

Forgot to mention the 2 slices of Christmas ham that I chowed down as a filler.

What a difference this is from the 1 week I spent freezing my ass off in London and eating tiny little triangles of Pret a Manger sandwiches for S$6 each. Downed with S$5 apple juice (2 gulps). How do British people get fat?! And all the food is stone cold.

Signing off, from the land of pounds, inches, miles, funny-looking sockets and people who drive on the wrong side of the road.

Shuda Just Sold The Body Parts Online

In a continuing effort to contribute something to mankind (literally), I have tried over the past few months to set up 3 bachelors online. With a bachelor-man-meets-female-blogger twist. Have failed miserably, and have had to eat my words.

You know, in theory, this would've been a fantastic idea, leading to a real-time business, leading to a NASDAQ-listed company, leading to world domination. But the hitch in the great plan has turned out to be the bachelors. You know who you are !!

One bachelor actually asked me if I was selling his body parts online. How much was the best offer for the penis, he asked. I told him after much heated bidding, the top offer was S$5.65 (inclusive of GST and postage). Well, that's more than S$500 per metre! he said. It's a pretty good price!

Will discuss further when I'm less depressed. Now doing a faceplant.

Sir, Are You Taking That Turkey To Texas?

My maid is absolutely hysterical. I didn't know what she was referring to, until I remembered that we have had a butterball turkey in our freezer since "Thanksgiving". The quotation marks have been included since this is not a recognised public holiday in Singapore, and therefore it is usually neglected in our household except for the small forlorn American voice that mentions it on some random evening. "Hey. It's Thanksgiving."

So "Thanksgiving" came and went, but the butterball stayed in our fridge. Now that we are planning a holiday, the fate of the butterball remains unclear. Do we attempt to cook and eat it before we leave? Do we pack it in our luggage and cook it in Texas? Do we hand it over to a customs officer at the Minneapolis airport so that he and his fambly can enjoy irradiated turkey for dinner? So many questions, so little time.

In other news, The Son has broken out in red spots. He looks really awful. You can't tell just looking at him if it's measles, chicken pox, viral pox or an alien. We brought him to the paed this morning and had to declare that he was infectious, which led directly to us sitting in a small room with the door closed whilst The Son cried and cried because he wanted to be in the waiting room with all the kids and toys. "OUTSIDE!!! OUTSIDE!!!!!" A toddler in need is very very trying.

Anyway. Found out that it's some kind of viral rash. I think that's putting it mildly. He's all red. It's like a walking rash with hair on top. And he cries A LOT which makes him even redder and very disagreeable. We finally passed the paed a photograph of him for her wall - it barely looked like the same kid.

Disease, viruses, toddlers, milo stains on my work clothes, diaper rash, vomit and noisy diarrhoea. That's the sum of my last 4 days. Also, requests for "BLUE NUK" at 5 am in the morning (the pacifier in his mouth was clear-coloured, and he didn't like it, and he wanted the blue pacifier). There was a lot of searching in the dark, and mama was crawling under the bed whilst dada searched the sheets when The Little Dictator shouted "HERE!", popped the blue nuk into his mouth and went back to sleep. HE HAD BEEN HOLDING IT IN HIS HAND ALL ALONG. It took me an hour to get back to sleep.

I give up. I'm drinking all the Promethazine before we get on the plane.

How to Survive a 24-Hour Plane Ride With A Toddler

a. portable DVD-player with a stack of High-Five CDs (1 hour)
b. lots of toddler books and 5 pacifiers (1 hour, tops)
c. subcontract the job to the junior stewardess (5 mins)
d. strong medication for the parent(s), accompanied by a stiff drink or ten (depends on the medication)
e. parents to develop selective seeing and hearing abilities (so as not to see or hear the other passengers who have been adversely affected by said toddler's activities) (1 min)
f. lock self and toddler in the loo and let him play with all the dispensables (10 mins)
g. allow toddler to run around the plane without supervision (2 mins before he gets returned by a stewardess or passenger)

Oh God. What are we in for.

Some People Are Very Clingy

The Son voluntarily gave me a hug this morning when he woke up, and it felt beyond fantastic. He does not usually give voluntary hugs - hugs are forced upon him.

Thereafter, I was required by His Royal Highness to sit with him whilst he watched a particular High Five CD for the 50,000th time. He likes it when I sing along, and even better if I dance along. Unfortunately it's not easy to get ready for work while dancing and singing, but Some People get very upset when I try to wander off.

We tried to bluff him into thinking that I wasn't gone for one week, just one day. Just one extremely long day, that got dark several times. He didn't buy it. I was informed about tantrums and crying jags that occurred very very early in the morning, usually about the time that I would otherwise be fighting with him over my (MY) pillow whilst he tries to push me and it off the bed.

Bought him a really cool present from Harrods (a Mini Coupe with the English flag painted on it, which wanders, battery-operated, through a map of London). Unfortunately the Mini was manufactured in China, which means it is already broken. I'd like to strangle the factory owner that makes such shoddy products. Not to mention the effort of lugging the stuff back in my suitcase, which some cheeky customs officer decide to label as "HEAVY - DO NOT LIFT WITHOUT ASSISTANCE". Indeed.

A well-meaning friend asked me to buy back some kweh from London. Where to find kweh, I ask. Belgravia? I can't even find decent sushi, although I did pass the now famous Japanese restaurant (Itsu) during a long and frozen search for some cheap hot food, which ended with a not-so-cheap pizza for 1 at Pizza Express (S$21). Tried looking for the pollonium kweh (it glows green) but my Geiger counter conked out in the frozen air.

So, after one week of jiat loti lem teh, I'm back. I'm really really back.