Despite that phrase about the soft rains of April, here in Singapore in June there is no end in sight. I’m not so sure that there is such a thing as soft rain in SE Asia. At least Singapore is a great place to eat yourself silly. This is a task that I relish.
Staying with a friend in the Novena area has been great. There is VeloCity, Novena Square, United Square, and the MRT within a few minutes walk.
Being back in Singapore is a bit of shock to the system, but a nice shock. I’ve been exploring all the new things that have popped up over the last few years. ION Orchard is a crowded, confusing mess, but it’s starting to make sense. Sentosa is a pleasant place to read, except for the construction noises (but this is a constant hazard all over the country), but I really must keep better track of the time to avoid my current state. All of my skin is peeling off from too much sun. The intensity is quite seriously dangerous compared to the gentle touch that reaches Japan.
First, some background. A few weeks ago I did something to my sciatic nerve which made it painful to sit or move or do much of anything. It was healing nicely, but still not quite good enough to engage in my usual routine of going to the gym. I had hoped to do so on Friday before my scheduled haircut at Toni & Guy in Omote-Sando. In any case, I decided against going to Gold’s. This turned out to be one of the most fortuitous injuries I’ve ever had. Without an injury I would have been on a train almost an hour away from home at 14:45 on 11MAR11. Alone and frightened with absolutely no way to get home, and without the lifeline of a phone call. I know that I would not have been able to handle it with the well-practiced brave and stoic resolution we’re seeing in the Japanese all around us. I fell apart enough lurching my way into the emergency area outside where I stood shaking almost as much as the quake.
This brings us to today. I’ve been vacillating between frantic worry and fatalistic resignation for days. It was 04:00 this morning and there was no sleep in the immediate outlook. Passing the time going through old photos, I noticed that it was self-delusion in thinking that my hair has not been going for quite some years. My increasingly long hair had been bugging me even before the thankfully missed appointment (which itself was postponed a few weeks). It goes without saying that frivolities like hairdresser visits would not be happening anytime in the foreseeable future. So, sitting here in the midst of the worst disaster of the century, I pulled out the clippers. I had to use a regular razor after the clippers to make sure it was even at least. In the mirror it looks almost human-like, but in the picture I took … Perhaps this is more self-delusion but I think I look better in person than digitally rendered. I certainly hope so. Though this is the absolute last time and place on this planet for vanity … the result is … frightening.