Big news for all friends of the Textpats (so, mostly our moms, and some random guy in Puerto Rico (we love you Juan!): We now have a Facebook page!! If your stubborn little thumbs still yearn to type “Textpatwives.com” twenty times a day, rest assured, we’ll be here too. But, if you’re on Facebook – and if not, we hope you wake up from your coma soon – stop by and hit that lovely Like button. There we will continue to share our texts, but there’ll be MORE: more photos of disposable underwear, public bathrooms, mis-spelt signs, and things (and occasionally, people) we’ve accidentally hit with the car. It’s going to be SO MUCH FUN!! (Smiley face.) So hop on Facebook, Like us, Share us, tell your friends to do it. Spread the Textpat love, that’s all we’re saying.
(Ps: Textpat A really does know about the blog. Now. She didn’t mind at all, and will think it’s funny once she calms the fuck down. Jesus.)
We realise that our obsession with groceries and supermarkets might make us seem a bit… limited… in our ex-pat activities. “Don’t they have LIVES?!” you may ask. Which is reasonable. Believe us however when we tell you that grocery-shopping comprises about 60% of the average Singaporean Expat’s energy, and at least 80% of our daily thought processes. (The remaining energy and thought is dedicated to getting lost and complaining about being too hot.) We accept that our groceries-obsession is not something to be proud of, but when filling your fridge necessitates visits to multiple shops, every day, and when your choices are NO FRUIT or FRUIT PRICED AS IF IT HAS BEEN RIPENED BY THE WARM BREATH OF A UNICORN, then the preoccupation starts to make sense. Maybe.
Last week, at least one of us was still tasked with 24/7 parenting, and so spent the days, and the contents of her bank account, entertaining the little devils. So imagine the JOY when a government-run splash-park was discovered – complete with gym and fast-food outlet… All it needs now is a bar ( and possibly a monkey or two) and we’ll have found our home from home.
The beginning of the school year is always an exciting time for parents. It’s a time of fresh starts- new routines, new backpacks, new teachers- and also a time of boundless optimism, when we think “This year I’m going to exercise EVERY DAY before I take the kids to school!” or “We’re going to begin meditating! As a family! Every night before bedtime!” Of course this is short-lived. Suddenly it’s December and we find ourselves waking up at 10:00 am and wondering how the kids even got to school, and “meditation” is what we call our naps in the car at red lights. Our inevitable failure, however, doesn’t dampen our New Year Optimism.
This time of year is perhaps even more exciting for us expats, for the Expat Friend Revolving Door just keeps spinning, and at this time of year it deposits a whole new batch of wide-eyed newbies at our feet. And we’re pretty sure those newbies need a book club…
We have returned! And to celebrate, we put our hair up in a pony-tail, wiped the sweat from our midriffs, and did what any self-respecting ex-pat would do: hit the supermarket…
(where delights such as this week’s “special” – special what, we’re not sure; special lunacy? – awaited us.)
We’re forever coming across small typos and grammatical errors in local ads and publications, which generally do little more than make us snigger. This one was a bit different, however. Because most things which get a bit lost in translation wouldn’t, for instance, shut a dinner party down very awkwardly, or land you in jail – wondering how you could have got it quite so wrong…
In Singapore, nearly every shop entrance is guarded by this guy. Likely not coincidentally, shoplifting is nearly non existent. Perhaps would-be thieves are deterred by his firm, authoritative stance. Or maybe they just find themselves lost in his dreamy eyes.
We know, we know. There are bad drivers everywhere. Come to the US and merge onto the closest freeway, and you’ll quickly encounter at least one person who appears to be casually texting her entire life story- complete with selfies- while she creeps along at 3 mph in the fast lane; one maniac tailgating and weaving at Mach speeds; and, as you do your best to avoid those two, every few miles you’ll likely be treated to someone’s upturned middle finger, often for no particular reason so far as you can tell, except that they are ragingly angry at life, and you happen to be nearby. Every country has bad drivers. And, given our– uh– tendency– to randomly crash into stationary objects with our cars from time to time (though honestly our cars happen to have HUGE blindspots), perhaps we shouldn’t be quite so judgey (you know, glass houses, etc.). All that said, STILL. Sometimes all you can do is laugh or cry. Or text about it.