a happy journey starts like that.

My mother tells me I don't talk enough here about the minutiae of Singapore life.

That's because, by and large, it's all minutiae. But I will endeavor now to give you more observations from the 'Stine station, and we'll see where we end up.

Let me see.

My walk to school is only about 12 minutes long, when you incorporate the bus. The bus here in Singapore costs anywhere from 70 cents to 80 cents, Sing, and the buses are pretty high-class. That's because the MRT system, awesome though it is, doesn't really cover as much ground as one might like. It isn't like the NYC subway system, using which you can basically get to anywhere in the city. The Singapore MRT will take you certain places, but a 15 minute walk from the MRT stop to your destination is not uncommon (vis a vis: school, for me). So we take the bus.

The bus maps make no sense, and the schedules are entirely arbitrary. You just kind of go sit there, and pray. The buses are by numbers, but I can't see that there's much correlation. By my apartment stops the 132, 32, 45, 145, 33...and who knows what else. I take the 132 one stop to school, and then march my fine ass up a steep hill. So don't worry, I still get the workout in after I pay my 70 cents. There are TVs on all the buses, and they play alternately Japanese cartoons or Singaporean soap opera. I can't tell you yet which I prefer.

People in Singapore have perfected the art of the mosey. I've already said that walking behind a group of locals is like trudging through sand; nobody has anywhere to be. It hasn't gotten any better. Though today I got stuck behind a white couple (obviously tourists) and felt much like I did trying to get from the NWR at 34th to Penn Station, trapped behind people in Hawaiin shirts with big cameras. These people weren't looking up at the buildings though, they were just zigging when they should've zagged, and blond.

There is a lemming mentality in Singapore the likes of which I have never encountered before. There are literally diagrams on the subway floors to show you how to let people get OFF the train first, and there are countless signs and videos that say things like: Don't play, play -- let me come out first! Be courteous, and allow me to alight instead of trampling me!

I'm serious. Photographic evidence.


I swear, I did not photoshop that picture.

I dunno who that guy is, but he's in all the videos too, doing awful rap songs about "a happy journey starts like that" and whatnot. If I could find the video for y'all, I would.

...Hm.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why youtube exists. You can see the most preposterous public transit rap video of all time, and revel in it.

Can you imagine if they showed things like this on the NYC subway? People would like...purposefully piss on subway cars in full view of the public just to let everyone know that they COULD. In Singapore, people barely notice. And this kind of cheesy tripe is everywhere. On the buses, the windows of stores, there are flags and shit. But it's just their way. Nobody in America would buy into that kind of propaganda, but it totally works here.

I mean, they still try to run you over when you're getting off the MRT, but otherwise it works.

In other news, I'm kind of a baby and do my grocery shopping at the extremely Western supermarket by school. Well I did today. I'm going to try doing some rice and beans and that kind of stuff because it's easy and doesn't involve an oven (one of which I do not have). The food at school is pretty wretched, and I've been surviving on omelet sandwiches and things like that, because I don't really have the time/energy for full-on cooking. And there is no pizza place.

God, I miss pizza.

Of the food chains available here in Singapore, we have McDonald's, KFC, Pizza Hut, and...Long John Silver's -- which I haven't seen in the States for like a decade, but is apparently thriving in Asia. Who knew. None of these places hold much interest for me (except for the occasional Bic Mac craving -- BMF, I know you're with me here), and you'd be surprised how absolutely impossible it is to just find a SANDWICH of some kind. Here be the land of no hoagies, subs, or gyros. Fried chicken and french fries, though, is universal.

Alcohol is an atrocity and so expensive it makes me want to quit drinking. Almost.

There are 7-11s on every corner and of course Mr. Bean, which I haven't said much about but I've linked to the website, and that really should be enough. It needs be noted that when Jenny was here she discovered the power of the Pau, which is a dumpling-kind of food that they serve EVERYWHERE to one degree or another, even in 7-11, and if nothing else that I say is true, know this: there is pauer in the Pau.

That being said, I think that's about as much minutiae as I can manage on this day, after writing a one-act, a screenplay and a 10-page scene in the style of Sophocles. I'll take more careful notes in the days approaching.

Over and out, blogger.