<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349</id><updated>2011-04-22T08:40:40.667+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishhead Curry and Such - Our Life in Singapore</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-5389594605763822538</id><published>2009-04-03T10:39:00.014+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T23:33:59.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip -- Southeast Asia Style</title><content type='html'>Four months since my last post??  Are you kidding me?  Well, you know the old saying, "No news is...no news."  Something like that anyway.  When I started this blog, I had every intention of posting, at the very least, once a month, but I just can't seem to do it.  I guess I could post more frequently about everyday things, but believe me, you do not want to be subjected to that.  Do you really want to read about how much our last grocery bill for three days worth of food was?  How many fights I refereed between Alex and Ali?  Or how much I hate exercising?  Believe me, I'm sparing you the agony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did think that you'd enjoy hearing about the trip that we just took.  We went to Tioman Island in Malaysia for spring break.  Tioman Island is a small island about 20 miles off the coast of peninsular Malaysia (just to the north of Singapore) in the South China Sea.  It's known for its coral reefs and beautiful, clear waters, perfect for scuba diving and snorkeling.  It's managed to remain uncommercialized despite its popularity for divers.  There are only a couple of roads on the northern part of the island (we stayed on the southern tip) and the main form of transportation around the island is either by walking on the jungle paths or by boat.  Tioman Island has a small claim to fame in Hollywood, also.  For you movie fans out there, if you've ever seen the movie South Pacific, they used Tioman Island to portray Bali Hai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to go to Tioman Island for a few reasons: beautiful waters, peace and quiet from busy Singapore, and -- most importantly and the main draw for me -- we could drive there.  As I mentioned in my previous post, I have an intense fear of flying and avoid it at all costs.  Let me clarify: an intense, hand sweating, heart racing, white knuckling, stomach turning, panic stricken, fear of flying.  Do you remember the old TV show, "The A Team"?  On the show, Mr. T's character was afraid to fly, so the other A Team guys would drug him or knock him unconscious to get him on a plane.  Like, in every episode this happened.  When it comes to flying, I'm kind of like Mr. T -- but without the mohawk, gold jewelry and muscles.  Colin generously offered to knock me out (a little too eagerly, I might add), so we could fly on the tiny (tiny!!) plane from Singapore to Tioman Island, but really, a road trip through Malaysia appealed to me much more.  We could drive two hours to a town in Malaysia called Mersing and from there, take a one hour ferry ride to Tioman Island.  From there, our resort's boat would pick us up to take us to where we were staying.  Piece of cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sooner had we made up our minds to drive, when we started getting these "looks" from people when we told them we were driving through Malaysia.  You know, the "raised eyebrow, grimacing, are you out of your mind" sort of looks.  See, living in Singapore is kind of like living in a bubble.  It's very, very safe over here.   But apparently when you cross the border to Malaysia (a mere 15 miles or so from our house), well, it's a different story.  We were being told of incidents of expats being targeted for crimes in Malaysia, especially those driving Singapore plated cars.  Robberies, carjackings, police shakedowns for money...that sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCREEEEEECH!!  Um, what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People were giving us advice like, "just don't stop for any reason", "if someone hits your car, keep driving" and "hide your money in your car, so if you get pulled over, you don't have to give all of your money to the officer."  I had these visions of driving out of idyllic Singapore, crossing the border and people ramming into our car and trying to force us off the road.  (Hey, that sounds like an episode of the A Team!!)  To put my mind at ease, I called our insurance agent and got his opinion.  His advice was, "You'll be fine, don't worry.  But if someone tries to steal your car, don't fight with them.  Just give them the car."  Yeah, that was some comforting advice.  I finally sought out the opinion of a couple friends who have been in Singapore for several years and have driven to Malaysia many times.  They reminded us that Singapore is a little removed from reality as far as crime goes and assured us we'd be fine, but just to be aware of other drivers and their intentions.  And yes, that it was indeed a good idea to hide our money in case we got pulled over.  All in all, it still sounded safer than flying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still we weren't taking any chances.  We forbid the little ones from drinking anything before we left ("We're not stopping!  No bathroom breaks!!"), emptied the car of all of our CDs (they may get the car, but they're not getting my CDs!) and we were off.  Since I'm the only one that has passed the driving test and has a Singapore license (envision me breathing on my nails and buffing them here), I drove.  After crossing the border into Malaysia, I took a deep breath and tried to resist driving like a bat out of hell -- speeding, blowing through red lights and screeching around turns.  You know, the way that I normally drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, it was an uneventful trip.  There were a few heart stopping moments with crazy, idiot drivers driving in the oncoming lane around a curve or up a hill.  And at one point, we were in a line of cars on a two lane highway and a car came tearing past us down the gravel shoulder of the road.  Gravel was flying everywhere and of course, our windshield took a direct hit and got a small nick.  We were annoyed, but looked on the bright side; we were now less likely to be carjacked.  What self respecting carjacker would want to steal a car with a cracked windshield??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say that it would have been helpful to know Bahasa, the language they speak in Malaysia.  And, incidentally, the language that their roadsigns are in.  I know exactly nine words in Bahasa; all of which I learned from the multiple language signs around Singapore and none of which would come in handy in Malaysia unless I wanted to say, "Selamat, bukit!  Bahaya!  Selamat datang pulau jalan.  Awas, desa kota."  It might sound impressive, but when translated to English means, "Congratulations, hill!  Danger!  Welcome island street.  Caution, village town." That's all I've got.  Every single Bahasa word I know and still unable to form a sentence.  I really need to learn some verbs.  Thank goodness we really only had to stay on one road for most of the drive to Mersing and I was able to manage that despite my limited command of Bahasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the ferry terminal in Mersing, found our resort's office that operated from the mainland and got our ferry tickets.  We parked our car in the "guarded" lot (only half expecting it to be there when we got back), grabbed a bite to eat and at 2:00, drug all of our bags to the ferry terminal.  Our ferry was supposed to leave at 3:00, but by 4:30, there were over 300 people in the little ferry terminal and no sign of a ferry.  Come to find out that the ferry couldn't get to the terminal because it was low tide.  (I had actually heard about the inconsistent timetable that the ferry runs on and wasn't very surprised that we were waiting, but at the same time wondered why the heck they'd schedule a ferry to leave at low tide anyway.  I mean, it's a coastal town; don't all coastal towns kind of already know when it's low tide? But I digress.)  Finally, at 5:00, three ferries came in at once.  The terminal was pretty chaotic as people jockeyed for position, not even knowing which line to stand in or which boat to get on.  We somehow found our way to the right ferry and were finally on our way to the island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we arrived at our stop, our resort's speedboat was waiting to pick us up as promised.  As I was standing on the pier, waiting to get onto the speedboat, I looked down to the water and was surprised to see how clear and blue it was.  I don't think I've ever seen such clear water.  The kids and I stepped onto the boat and Colin boarded last.  He was carrying his shoulder bag which had his laptop, our passports and money in it.  As he got on the boat, the bag slipped off his shoulder, fell and got wedged between the pier and the boat.  He grabbed it up just in time, stumbled onto the boat and the only thing that he lost was his sunglasses which we helplessly watched sink 15 feet all the way down to the bottom.  Boy, that water was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;clear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally arrived at our resort where we were greeted with drinks, shown to our villa and told to take our watches off and just enjoy not being on a schedule.  And that's exactly what we did.  The resort didn't have TVs or internet service.  There was only one phone in the office and no cell signal on the island.  Colin was officially unavailable to his work and was able to destress (though he did cringe a little everytime the phone would ring, worried that it was his office calling with an emergency).  It was a bit of an adventure getting there, but for the next five days, we had a great time relaxing and enjoying the beach and sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex and Ali immediately took to the water and went snorkeling with Colin several times a day.  There was great snorkeling just off the beach and from the pier of the resort.  Alex and Ali were little underwater explorers, swimming through schools of fish and finding sea urchins, sea cucumbers and little Nemo fish living in anemones.  Alex even found a "buried treasure".  A wine bottle that was covered with some barnacles and sea life.  He was convinced it was from a sunken ship and we didn't have the heart to tell him that it was probably trash that someone on a boat threw overboard a few months ago.  So he proudly brought his buried treasure home.  We took a boat out one day with another family and went snorkeling.  I was so surprised at how brave the little kids were.  They absolutely loved it.  There was a dive school on site and Cameron and Colin went scuba diving one day.  Another day, Colin took a boat out to go scuba diving and had a great time.  Eric enjoyed jumping and diving off of the pier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some experiences with nature, too.  A few mornings, we were woken very early by what sounded like someone banging on our door.  We finally realized that it was monkeys running along our tin roof.  Colin had his own little run-in with the monkeys.  He was walking back to the dining area with PB&amp;amp;J sandwiches for the kids one evening (they did NOT appreciate Malay cuisine) and heard a grunting/growling noise behind him.  He looked back to see a group of monkeys and the biggest one was running towards him.  He said he was just about two seconds away from throwing the sandwiches at the monkey and running for dear life, when the monkey lost its nerve and stopped about 20 feet from him.  The monkeys had actually gotten into another family's villa and stolen some fruit from them, so we were a little wary anyway.  But apparently these weren't junk food eating monkeys because if they were, they would have broken into our villa.  We had much better things to steal -- Pop Tarts, Oreos, Froot Loops.  They did want those peanut butter sandwiches, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We soon developed a nightly ritual.  After dinner, we'd go down to the pier to watch the 6 foot blacktip reef sharks come in to feed on the fish (more interactions with nature!).  Yes, this is the same pier that my children would swim from during the day.  I was assured that the sharks only came at night and no one had ever seen one there during the day.  One night, the dive master, in an effort to convince people to do a night dive with the sharks, got in the water with them to prove that they wouldn't bother you.  Sure enough, the sharks really were afraid of him and swam away if he got too close, but it wouldn't have been a pretty sight if it turned out he was wrong!  After watching the sharks, we'd then head up to our villa where we'd play a game of Uno or Memory with Alex and Ali.  Then the next thirty minutes was spent killing every single bug that Ali saw in her room and trying to convince her that none of them were poisonous.  After that, we'd play a game of Taboo or Sequence with the older boys and then head to bed.  It was truly a quiet, peaceful, and relaxing week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our trip back was a bit of an adventure also.  Our resort's boat dropped us off at one of the main piers on the island so we could catch our ferry back to Mersing at 11:30.  Unfortunately, this time the ferry was running right on schedule (figures!) and we were running 5 minutes late, so we literally "missed the boat".  We, of course, didn't realize this until our speedboat had sped away and we found ourselves stuck on this pier at the end of this little village until the next boat came at 2:00.  Which put us back near Mersing at 3:00.  And guess what happens around 3:00?  That's right, low tide.  So we made it all the way to Mersing, but were stuck just offshore on the ferry, unable to get to the terminal.  Eventually a speedboat pulled up alongside and they transferred us and all of our bags onto the speedboat so we could motor in to the terminal.  We got our car (it was still there in one piece!) from the lot and began our drive home.  Since we had no trouble on the drive up to Mersing, (unlicensed) Colin wanted to drive home.  About 20 minutes into our trip, we came to a police roadblock.  The police questioned Colin about where we had been and where we were going.  They inspected our Singapore car tax stickers to make sure they were current (they were. Whew!) and scrutinized Colin's passport and US drivers license.  They finally waved us ahead and we breathed a huge sigh of relief.  It was then that we realized that we hadn't even taken the time to hide the money in the car and our whole wad of cash was stuffed into Colin's wallet.  We're such savvy travelers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, what should have been a 3 or 4 hour trip in total, turned out to take us over 10 hours and was capped off with Ali getting carsick in the backseat when we were just minutes from home.  But we had an awesome time that week.  We didn't get robbed, carjacked, lost, attacked by monkeys, bitten by poisonous bugs or eaten by sharks.  And best of all, I didn't have to fly anywhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_BxcaalI/AAAAAAAAAR4/kFOrxzafaKw/s1600-h/204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_BxcaalI/AAAAAAAAAR4/kFOrxzafaKw/s400/204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320438940725570130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting for the ferry to take us to the island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CCwZKaI/AAAAAAAAASA/x52Aemq2pCc/s1600-h/151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CCwZKaI/AAAAAAAAASA/x52Aemq2pCc/s400/151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320438945372776866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tioman Island.  Doesn't it kind of look like the island from Lost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CcgWu_I/AAAAAAAAASQ/BjYGVV2RC_8/s1600-h/209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CcgWu_I/AAAAAAAAASQ/BjYGVV2RC_8/s400/209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320438952284830706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the speedboat going to the resort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CNliV7I/AAAAAAAAASI/9PAz9eHP-ec/s1600-h/355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CNliV7I/AAAAAAAAASI/9PAz9eHP-ec/s400/355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320438948280031154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minang Cove Resort&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CkFch3I/AAAAAAAAASY/tGB_LX7Ocq8/s1600-h/212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_CkFch3I/AAAAAAAAASY/tGB_LX7Ocq8/s400/212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320438954319447922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toasting with their welcome drink.  We're just not exactly sure what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kind &lt;/span&gt;of drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYErrM7aKI/AAAAAAAAASg/hXcFDnlrKuI/s1600-h/280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYErrM7aKI/AAAAAAAAASg/hXcFDnlrKuI/s400/280.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320445158162655394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;View from our villa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEry9lEYI/AAAAAAAAASo/RZiTxKTuaHw/s1600-h/231.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEry9lEYI/AAAAAAAAASo/RZiTxKTuaHw/s400/231.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320445160245760386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ready to go snorkeling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEsK3ReYI/AAAAAAAAASw/njZkxyDl0hY/s1600-h/260.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEsK3ReYI/AAAAAAAAASw/njZkxyDl0hY/s400/260.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320445166661761410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colin is finally able to relax!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEsZnRwAI/AAAAAAAAAS4/E3Od_pFGawQ/s1600-h/329.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEsZnRwAI/AAAAAAAAAS4/E3Od_pFGawQ/s400/329.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320445170621202434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron was very enthusiastic about snorkeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEsYtU_SI/AAAAAAAAATA/_F07KV8KKWQ/s1600-h/343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYEsYtU_SI/AAAAAAAAATA/_F07KV8KKWQ/s400/343.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320445170378145058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKqGIt6aI/AAAAAAAAATQ/Vgz-Sam5MkA/s1600-h/352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKqGIt6aI/AAAAAAAAATQ/Vgz-Sam5MkA/s400/352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320451728102779298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex loved when the boat bounced over waves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKqmZjpFI/AAAAAAAAATg/LqTvjEhiqE4/s1600-h/373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKqmZjpFI/AAAAAAAAATg/LqTvjEhiqE4/s400/373.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320451736763343954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;loooong &lt;/span&gt;day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKqPOgUsI/AAAAAAAAATY/qmxJQQmnNwQ/s1600-h/364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKqPOgUsI/AAAAAAAAATY/qmxJQQmnNwQ/s400/364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320451730542973634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that little head at the bar?  That's Alex ordering another Sprite.  So &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;explains our exorbitant bar tab!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKq9MWT-I/AAAAAAAAATo/6zXpvzaStko/s1600-h/386.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYKq9MWT-I/AAAAAAAAATo/6zXpvzaStko/s400/386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320451742881959906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSZAnwXGI/AAAAAAAAAUg/toHRXdeeJdg/s1600-h/050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSZAnwXGI/AAAAAAAAAUg/toHRXdeeJdg/s400/050.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320460230657596514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNhNF-1yI/AAAAAAAAAUA/8oMAmK0TM_4/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNhNF-1yI/AAAAAAAAAUA/8oMAmK0TM_4/s400/034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320454873886414626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNhWgQv7I/AAAAAAAAAUI/-8OwE4_zgdI/s1600-h/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNhWgQv7I/AAAAAAAAAUI/-8OwE4_zgdI/s400/037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320454876412559282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric had fun jumping off the pier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNg9iZlfI/AAAAAAAAAT4/FUctCmCKCpQ/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNg9iZlfI/AAAAAAAAAT4/FUctCmCKCpQ/s400/018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320454869710640626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Ali&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSZUxQZYI/AAAAAAAAAUo/N3hMzk2zRJA/s1600-h/048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSZUxQZYI/AAAAAAAAAUo/N3hMzk2zRJA/s400/048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320460236066153858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSY3RCNEI/AAAAAAAAAUY/CGd32-N_Da4/s1600-h/424.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSY3RCNEI/AAAAAAAAAUY/CGd32-N_Da4/s400/424.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320460228146377794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going scuba diving&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNhpUHhFI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/eNrxXnDHF3Y/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNhpUHhFI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/eNrxXnDHF3Y/s400/039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320454881461896274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't exactly call it fishing, but this is what Alex "caught" while snorkeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNgfcELxI/AAAAAAAAATw/iycKSyx68Y8/s1600-h/446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYNgfcELxI/AAAAAAAAATw/iycKSyx68Y8/s400/446.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320454861631008530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex and Ali&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSZ8k7nAI/AAAAAAAAAUw/HaJQLN002IM/s1600-h/079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSZ8k7nAI/AAAAAAAAAUw/HaJQLN002IM/s400/079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320460246751878146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWNcYUR5I/AAAAAAAAAVg/3fQVjbxO6Iw/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWNcYUR5I/AAAAAAAAAVg/3fQVjbxO6Iw/s400/004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320464429997115282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blasted monkeys in front of our villa.  I'm pretty sure they were conspiring to break in and raid our minibar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWNGINnXI/AAAAAAAAAVY/k3kDS2ySUSQ/s1600-h/314.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWNGINnXI/AAAAAAAAAVY/k3kDS2ySUSQ/s400/314.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320464424023989618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner.  I think I ate peanut butter and jelly that night, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWNLWRWcI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/neodXjxSuDA/s1600-h/051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWNLWRWcI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/neodXjxSuDA/s400/051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320464425425131970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a sweet girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSaOklGFI/AAAAAAAAAU4/n617aclm8ck/s1600-h/128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYSaOklGFI/AAAAAAAAAU4/n617aclm8ck/s400/128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320460251582240850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waiting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYX3xOGHYI/AAAAAAAAAVo/gxsA58FiVdY/s1600-h/144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYX3xOGHYI/AAAAAAAAAVo/gxsA58FiVdY/s400/144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320466256657522050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and waiting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWM6JxvwI/AAAAAAAAAVI/_eC9uTQ_k9M/s1600-h/142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdYWM6JxvwI/AAAAAAAAAVI/_eC9uTQ_k9M/s400/142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320464420809326338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-5389594605763822538?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/5389594605763822538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=5389594605763822538' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/5389594605763822538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/5389594605763822538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2009/04/road-trip-southeast-asia-style.html' title='Road Trip -- Southeast Asia Style'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SdX_BxcaalI/AAAAAAAAAR4/kFOrxzafaKw/s72-c/204.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-213416738856437137</id><published>2008-12-04T19:06:00.027+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T07:06:57.645+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaaannnnnd We're Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Waiting for the applause to die down]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, after a brief hiatus, I'm back.  I took some time off to, you know....um....to...let's see.... Well,   OK, I wasn't doing anything, I was just being lazy.  And when you're being lazy, it kind of limits the scope of topics you can discuss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I last posted, I was on my way to America -- a lone adult with three kids in tow.  On a 22 hour flight.  In coach.  Fun stuff.  Actually, to be honest, traveling with the kids wasn't that bad.  They did really good.  (Thank you Steve Jobs for inventing video iPods!)  But you know, that whole flying thing?  I hate it.  To say that I'm a "nervous flier" is an understatement.  (To say that that's an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;understatement &lt;/span&gt;is an understatement!)  Before we moved, my doctor in America had given me some nice sedatives to make air travel seem like just a hazy dream, but since I was supposed to be responsible for the kids, I felt like I kind of owed it to them to stay lucid.  So I regretfully left my wonderdrug in Singapore and rode the waves of several panic attacks throughout the flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I'd really like to discuss here is what a difference 50 feet makes.  And after that, what a difference 150 feet makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50 feet is the approximate distance I was from the movie screen showing the in-flight movie.  Granted, they were showing movies that I probably wouldn't have cared about watching any other time, but when you're trapped in coach, wedged between a 4 year old and a 6 year old, all of a sudden the movie "Fools Gold" sounds like something you want to see.  Unfortunately, here is what I was able to see of the screen from my seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpMFJbBucI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/ALZPiRA3meI/s1600-h/IMG_1106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpMFJbBucI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/ALZPiRA3meI/s400/IMG_1106.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281117164357663170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, why even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have &lt;/span&gt;a movie screen if only the first 5 rows of a section can see it?  It's just unfair; it's not right!  But they weren't going to get the best of me!  I managed to outsmart them by leaning over and peeking between the seats ahead of me.  And if I. leaned. just. far. enough, I was able to get this view of the screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpMrrSRk2I/AAAAAAAAARA/XTRLlyy1TF4/s1600-h/IMG_1104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpMrrSRk2I/AAAAAAAAARA/XTRLlyy1TF4/s400/IMG_1104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281117826282787682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha!  That showed them!  (I should mention that I have no idea who "them" is.  The airplane industry?  The airplane builder?  The people in front of me with a clear view of the screen?  The Wright brothers?  Who knows, it could be anyone.) I discovered, too, that when you watch a movie in which you can only see 1/4 of the screen (and even less anytime the bald guy a few rows up leans over), you rely alot more on your sense of sound.  I felt like a blind person in a movie theater "watching" a movie.  "I hear silverware and glasses clinking.  They must be at a restaurant.  A-ha! Was that a chair scraping against the floor? They must be leaving.  Cars on the street, they're outside now; a door opening, they're at her place; a dog barking.  Hey! She has a dog?"  That sort of thing.  I  eventually gave up on the movie and watched videos on the iPod with Alex and Ali.  Underdog, Inspector Gadget, Mr. Magoo.   Mr. Magoo...now &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; a guy who knows my pain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'll discuss 150 feet.  150 feet is the approximate distance our coach seats were from business class.  Ahhh, business class, I wish I never knew you.  See when we moved over here, we flew business class and all of us got a little spoiled.  ("Mrs. Martin, would you like a pair of slippers?  A glass of champagne, Mrs. Martin?  Mrs. Martin, would you like another satin pillow?)  Here are some pictures of us indulging in the comforts of business class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpPbcGaDII/AAAAAAAAARI/A0xs2oIQ4Ko/s1600-h/P1020095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpPbcGaDII/AAAAAAAAARI/A0xs2oIQ4Ko/s400/P1020095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281120845863455874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpPcdJLfxI/AAAAAAAAARg/yQMFHEQ1Wwg/s1600-h/P1020100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpPcdJLfxI/AAAAAAAAARg/yQMFHEQ1Wwg/s400/P1020100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281120863323389714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpiCPebJLI/AAAAAAAAARw/3g-HSqu06wE/s1600-h/P1020107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpiCPebJLI/AAAAAAAAARw/3g-HSqu06wE/s400/P1020107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281141303698728114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpPcEQT8sI/AAAAAAAAARY/HljLdD43LJI/s1600-h/P1020106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpPcEQT8sI/AAAAAAAAARY/HljLdD43LJI/s400/P1020106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281120856642417346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That&lt;/span&gt; was an easy flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpQEqbXWgI/AAAAAAAAARo/FXtt1x26RWE/s1600-h/IMG_1103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpQEqbXWgI/AAAAAAAAARo/FXtt1x26RWE/s400/IMG_1103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281121554084092418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;150 feet in airline industry measurements can be defined as the difference between the "haves" and the "have nots".  It might as well be 150 miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being that Ali's first taste of air travel was in business class, it's no surprise that when we got on the plane this summer and had to walk through business class to our seats in coach, she automatically went towards one of the business class seats.&lt;br /&gt;"I'll sit here," she said, dumping her Hello Kitty backpack onto the seat.&lt;br /&gt;"No, that's not our seat, keep walking."&lt;br /&gt;She went a little further and pointed to another business class seat.  "Is this our seat?"&lt;br /&gt;"No," I said, "that's not ours either."&lt;br /&gt;"Well, where are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;our &lt;/span&gt;seats?"&lt;br /&gt;I leaned over a little bit and pointed down the aisle.  "Do you see those chickens and goats running around waaaaayyy back there in the back of the plane?  The last row by the bathrooms.  Those are our seats."&lt;br /&gt;She turned to me with a look of disbelief and incomprehension that seemed to say, "Hmmm, those seats look awfully close together; how do they lay flat like a bed?  Do they serve orange juice in fancy glasses back there?  And will I still be getting my warm towel before dinner?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality is a harsh lesson to learn when you're a 4 year old.    But I just patted her on the back and ushered her 150 feet down the aisle to our seats far away from business class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-213416738856437137?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/213416738856437137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=213416738856437137' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/213416738856437137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/213416738856437137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/12/aaaaannnnnd-were-back.html' title='Aaaaannnnnd We&apos;re Back'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SUpMFJbBucI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/ALZPiRA3meI/s72-c/IMG_1106.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-2015397145011538668</id><published>2008-08-17T22:57:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T00:11:37.645+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Talk</title><content type='html'>The Olympics have been going on for a week now and let's hope that the organizers got &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; kink worked out. I saw this in the newspaper a couple of months ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(click to enlarge)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SKg9LDhir8I/AAAAAAAAALM/NFcVdJg7zzw/s1600-h/IMG_0510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235501826952048578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SKg9LDhir8I/AAAAAAAAALM/NFcVdJg7zzw/s400/IMG_0510.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, people (and by people, I'm referring to women) will have to use &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; to go to the bathroom...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(cue the Psycho theme)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SKg-WkL8W_I/AAAAAAAAALU/ZcvGNnWQc0E/s1600-h/02-16-08_1358.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235503124210015218" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SKg-WkL8W_I/AAAAAAAAALU/ZcvGNnWQc0E/s400/02-16-08_1358.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what we call a "squatty potty". Don't even ask me how to use this thing, because I have no idea. The only useful advice I can give is that I'm pretty sure that it helps to have strong leg muscles. Due to the fact that I'd like to keep my pants dry, I haven't even tried to use a squatty potty. Thankfully, most public restrooms in Singapore have both types of toilets. The only problem is that you don't know which toilet will be waiting for you behind the stall door. Countless times, I have waited in the looooooong women's bathroom line, and when it was finally my turn, walked to the available stall only to see a squatty potty. Arrrgghhh!! I just do a quick about face and go straight back to the line to wait for a &lt;em&gt;real&lt;/em&gt; toilet. (And I just &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; that all of the Chinese women in the bathroom are having a secret giggle at the white girl who can't figure out how to use the toilet.) I'm thinking that they need to offer a class at the American Club to show us the technique involved in using this diabolical contraption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel too embarrassed about not knowing how to use one, though, because it seems that the Chinese can't figure out our complicated (?) Western toilets either. Proven here by this poster that I saw in a public restroom -- and by the shoe prints that I see on practically every Western toilet in Singapore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SKhCtNHo5EI/AAAAAAAAALc/nko8odxwWyM/s1600-h/02-21-08_1425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235507911201449026" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SKhCtNHo5EI/AAAAAAAAALc/nko8odxwWyM/s400/02-21-08_1425.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite a public service announcement, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;br /&gt;jodi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-2015397145011538668?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/2015397145011538668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=2015397145011538668' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2015397145011538668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2015397145011538668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/08/potty-talk.html' title='Potty Talk'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SKg9LDhir8I/AAAAAAAAALM/NFcVdJg7zzw/s72-c/IMG_0510.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-2467160056545300010</id><published>2008-06-03T11:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T11:35:57.784+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sing It With Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/9ttDUGM-1mU' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/9ttDUGM-1mU'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, it's official...we'll be "coming to America" in a few weeks! I know, I know in the song, they yell "today!" But, apparently Neil didn't think the song had quite the same punch when he sang "they're coming to America...in a few weeks!" And admittedly, he probably wasn't talking about the Martins, but hey, it's our current theme song, so I'm going with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, we didn't plan on coming back to the US until the summer of '09, but once we got here, we realized that that's a REALLY LONG TIME. Singapore really is a nice, relatively easy place to live and adjust to, but I was missing home quite a bit. So I talked to Colin and after lots of begging, pleading and crying (Colin did the crying), he agreed that it'd be a good idea for me and the kids to go back home for a visit. We're all SO excited. (Well, all of us except for Colin who will have to stay behind and work. Hey, someone's gotta earn the money! This trip ain't cheap, ya know!) Anyway, we'll be back June 13-July 27.  We'll spend about a month with mom and dad in Illinois and then drive down to Nashville for a couple of weeks and stay with my friend Jeni. Can. Not. Wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only am I looking forward to seeing everyone, I'm a little giddy at the thought of shopping at Target. And Kohl's! Oh I've missed them! Here in Singapore, they don't have stores like that. Don't get me wrong, they have hundreds of malls and clothing stores, but the clothes over here are primarily for Asian women who all happen to be just a tad more petite than me (blasted Anglo genes!). And even though I've come to terms with the fact that I can't fit into their diabolically small clothes, I can't even make myself feel better by buying a pair of shoes because I can't squeeze my gigantic size 9s into the size 7s which are at the top of the Singapore size chart. So I'm really looking forward to going into a clothing store, grabbing my size and seeing that it fits. That and not having to hear the Chinese owner say, "Oh, you too big! You need extra large!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing...communication is a problem here. Though English is a main language, most of the time we have absolutely no idea what the locals are saying, and even when we understand the words, we still have no idea what they mean. More on this in another post, but as an example...we went to a restaurant and ordered water to drink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Orange?" asks the waiter. &lt;br /&gt;"No, water." &lt;br /&gt;"Orange?" he asks again. &lt;br /&gt;"No, water." &lt;br /&gt;"Orange," he says. &lt;br /&gt;"No. Just waaaa-terrrr." We practically sign it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was exhausting, but we did eventually get water. I mean, how difficult is that?? To this day, I still don't know what the confusion was about, but after being here awhile and seeing how they confuse the language, I think that what he meant was "lemon" and what he meant to say was, "Would you like a lemon in your water?" But who knows? Maybe he really did want to bring an orange to our table. Believe me, that's a possibility, too. Anyway, we're really looking forward to talking and being understood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, it's the little things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I think I'll put on my Gloria Vanderbilt jeans...or maybe Jordache, crank up my Walkman and listen to Neil sing about us coming to America...in a few weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-2467160056545300010?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/2467160056545300010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=2467160056545300010' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2467160056545300010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2467160056545300010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/06/sing-it-with-me_8531.html' title='Sing It With Me!'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-2126774605850056718</id><published>2008-05-03T22:27:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T06:36:44.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud To Be An American</title><content type='html'>Being so far from home is hard. (We now know this for a fact!) But I guess probably no one knows it better than our military. They are separated from their family for months on end, all in the name of serving their country. Since Singapore is an island with a huge port (and possibly because it's a cool place to visit??), US naval ships stop here regularly on their way to other locations. The American Association in Singapore does a great job of reaching out to the sailors that come through here. When a ship is coming in, they ask for American families to host the sailors by taking them out to dinner, showing them around Singapore, cooking a dinner for them, etc. Something that will give them the sense of home and "American hospitality" since they're so far away from family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colin and I had the awesome opportunity to host three sailors a couple of weeks ago. We were assigned to Dustyn, Zac and William from the USS Shoup (a destroyer that accompanies the aircraft carrier USS Lincoln on its way to the Persian Gulf). These guys obviously drew the short straw when they got stuck with the Martins, but I'll tell you what, they were good sports! Most of you know that my cooking is atrocious -- surely there's a stiff penalty for poisoning government personnel?? -- so it goes without saying that I wasn't going to cook a meal for them. We gave the guys the choice of a few restaurants and let them decide where they'd like to eat. They chose to go to a seafood restaurant to try one of Singapore's favorite dishes: peppered crab. First, though, we took them shopping for electronics and then took them to Chinatown where they found some souveniers to take home. (I'm going to leave out the part where Colin almost got us all killed by mistakenly looking to the left instead of the right before pulling out into an intersection. You're welcome Colin!) Then we were off to dinner. We got the chance to hear about why they enlisted in the military, about their families and what it's like in the Navy. We had a great time. I wish I could tell you how many pounds of crab they ate, but things are measured in kilos over here and I'm still struggling with the conversion. All I can say is...they can put away some crab and probably could've eaten even more! After dinner, we took them back to our house so that they could use the computer and our phone to call home. Then they all got involved in a fierce Guitar Hero and Super Smash Brothers competition with Cameron on the Wii. We had a good time and before we knew it, it was time to take them back to the base before their curfew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I need to acknowledge the dedication these guys have. To give you an idea of what they're sacrificing to serve our country, here's who they bought for in Chinatown: Dustyn bought something for his new wife Stephanie, William bought something for his girlfriend who he had met just a couple months before shipping out, and Zac bought something for his wife, Christine, who is pregnant with their first baby. These guys will be gone for six more months. Zac won't even be back from this tour until after the baby is born. It really hits home to see the sacrifices that these guys and their families make to serve our country. And these are only three of the thousands that are serving in our military. Just think of all the babies that are born without their fathers in the delivery room and the wives that are without their husbands because of their service to the US. No matter what your stance is on what's going on with the war, you have to admire our servicemen and women. I'll tell you, I was really proud of these guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since taking them out, they've sent a few emails to let us know how they're doing and each time they've told us thank you for taking them out. But we should be the ones thanking them! It was an honor meeting them and treating them to a night out in Singapore was hardly enough thanks for what they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures that I thought I'd share...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByIBbUTpTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ZbOTp8JtEIs/s1600-h/GEDC0735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196177628172887346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByIBbUTpTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ZbOTp8JtEIs/s400/GEDC0735.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Chinatown. William is in the Packers jersey (Colin, the avid Titans fan, decided he'd let William come along for the night despite his misguided allegiance to the Packers), Dustyn is in the red and Zac is kneeling in front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByIBrUTpUI/AAAAAAAAAKU/NsBAMUX-zfg/s1600-h/IMG_0833.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196177632467854658" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByIBrUTpUI/AAAAAAAAAKU/NsBAMUX-zfg/s400/IMG_0833.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating With Chopsticks 101 -- Hey Zac, it usually works best when the chopsticks are in the same hand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByIB7UTpVI/AAAAAAAAAKc/K77zLfMqTsU/s1600-h/IMG_0834.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196177636762821970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByIB7UTpVI/AAAAAAAAAKc/K77zLfMqTsU/s400/IMG_0834.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cracking the legs was a group effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByICbUTpWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/fmEBGlQeH7Q/s1600-h/IMG_0841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196177645352756578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByICbUTpWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/fmEBGlQeH7Q/s400/IMG_0841.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this is the look of a military guy who is going to show his food who's boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJwbUTpXI/AAAAAAAAAKs/VLS9LPJMN8E/s1600-h/IMG_0843.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196179535138366834" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJwbUTpXI/AAAAAAAAAKs/VLS9LPJMN8E/s400/IMG_0843.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is the look of a military guy who uses his hands to break the crab legs instead of the crab cracker. Messy little suckers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJxLUTpYI/AAAAAAAAAK0/IkpUkrHties/s1600-h/IMG_0846.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196179548023268738" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJxLUTpYI/AAAAAAAAAK0/IkpUkrHties/s400/IMG_0846.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;William had just used his camera and set it down on the ledge next to him and two minutes later reached over to get it and this giant snail had crawled up on the lens of the camera. I probably would have freaked out to have this big, nasty snail on my camera, but William posed for a few pictures before prying it off and putting it in the bushes. Yuck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJxbUTpZI/AAAAAAAAAK8/zmu6hFpBsyo/s1600-h/IMG_0858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196179552318236050" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJxbUTpZI/AAAAAAAAAK8/zmu6hFpBsyo/s400/IMG_0858.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When losing at Guitar Hero, employ any tactics necessary to distract your opponents. Moose antlers is always effective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJxrUTpaI/AAAAAAAAALE/W1mNY61d0R8/s1600-h/IMG_0869.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196179556613203362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByJxrUTpaI/AAAAAAAAALE/W1mNY61d0R8/s400/IMG_0869.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See Zac's tongue sticking out? I told you it was an intense game!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-2126774605850056718?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/2126774605850056718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=2126774605850056718' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2126774605850056718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2126774605850056718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/05/proud-to-be-american.html' title='Proud To Be An American'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/SByIBbUTpTI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ZbOTp8JtEIs/s72-c/GEDC0735.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-7070741612822742726</id><published>2008-04-08T22:25:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T23:21:55.515+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A Video!</title><content type='html'>I took some videos and Cameron put it together in a little montage that I thought I'd post on here. As you watch it, you'll see a couple parts where Colin is helping Alex and Ali out of the water. The waves were really unpredictable and the kids would be bodysurfing, enjoying the smaller waves and then big waves would come in and smash into the beach for five minutes or so, then stop again. My job was to stand on the beach and watch for the big waves to start forming so that Colin could get the little ones out in time. There were only a couple close calls. : ) The kids had a blast bodysurfing. Especially the first day when the waves were smaller. By the fourth day, they had to sit it out and we made it a "pool day" because the waves were so big (10-12 feet); I was even nervous about Colin being in the water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron did the video and chose the things that he wanted to put in there, so...enjoy! Make sure your speakers are on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-2359905581486566912&amp;hl=en" flashvars=""&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-7070741612822742726?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/7070741612822742726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=7070741612822742726' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/7070741612822742726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/7070741612822742726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/04/we-went-to-phuket-thailand-for-spring.html' title='It&apos;s A Video!'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-1620209400018370637</id><published>2008-04-08T16:17:00.019+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T06:36:53.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Pronounced Pooh-ket (just in case you're wondering)</title><content type='html'>We went to Phuket, Thailand for spring break at the end of March. If Phuket sounds familiar to you, it's probably because it's one of the areas that was hit by the tsunami in December 2004. It's a very popular beach destination for Europe and Asia -- there were ALOT of Europeans and Australians. (While I'm on the subject of Europeans, we discovered that you are never too old or too fat to wear a bikini if you're European. Wow.) We stayed in an area of Phuket called Karon, which is one of the beach resort areas. We had a really nice time. We stayed in a great hotel (which was at the top of a hill on the tsunami evacuation route, so I slept easy at night!), the beaches are clean, the people are friendly and it was nice to just relax and enjoy the area. Anyway, we had a really great time (despite Colin getting the worst sunburn of his life) and would definitely go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are some pictures from our trip that I thought I'd share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These first four pictures were taken from the cab on the way to the hotel. I had my camera ready so that I could take a picture if I saw anything interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tLdijTEoI/AAAAAAAAAFM/QRzPl1fKa1c/s1600-h/IMG_0513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186822366710403714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tLdijTEoI/AAAAAAAAAFM/QRzPl1fKa1c/s400/IMG_0513.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the blue motorcycle? Can you see how many people are riding on it? Four. The little girl and dad (the only one wearing a helmet!) are in the front, then the mom (you can only see her legs and shoulder) is sitting in the back, holding a baby! Apparently, if you're in Thailand and can fit all of your family on a motorcycle, it's OK to do it. Geez, we could've saved a load of money on the cab if we had known that! Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tLdyjTEpI/AAAAAAAAAFU/lFnqL52U1Ck/s1600-h/IMG_0514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186822371005371026" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tLdyjTEpI/AAAAAAAAAFU/lFnqL52U1Ck/s400/IMG_0514.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, a family on a motorcycle. Only three of them this time, though. And look who gets to wear the family's helmet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tzhSjTE7I/AAAAAAAAAHk/9yvrRUrIljo/s1600-h/img_0520+(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186866411600024498" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tzhSjTE7I/AAAAAAAAAHk/9yvrRUrIljo/s400/img_0520+(2).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the back of the gray pickup truck? I took this picture to show that there are rednecks everywhere. Even in Thailand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tLeSjTErI/AAAAAAAAAFk/5t8noBTIXT4/s1600-h/IMG_0519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186822379595305650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tLeSjTErI/AAAAAAAAAFk/5t8noBTIXT4/s400/IMG_0519.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An elephant farm that was on the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNASjTEsI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Ts7g9ZkVghU/s1600-h/IMG_0521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186824063222485698" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNASjTEsI/AAAAAAAAAFs/Ts7g9ZkVghU/s400/IMG_0521.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finding out that the drinking age in Thailand was 6, Alex was able to let loose and enjoy himself. I'm kidding! When we got to the hotel, we were greeted in the lobby with a glass of juice and a cold towel. Alex wasn't exactly sure what to do with the towel, but he made use of it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNAyjTEtI/AAAAAAAAAF0/dPhP7p52dqk/s1600-h/IMG_0549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186824071812420306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNAyjTEtI/AAAAAAAAAF0/dPhP7p52dqk/s400/IMG_0549.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From our balcony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tOQyjTExI/AAAAAAAAAGU/HeezDTgdITQ/s1600-h/IMG_0572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186825446201955090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tOQyjTExI/AAAAAAAAAGU/HeezDTgdITQ/s400/IMG_0572.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the beach. (Pretty much the only way that I'll be in any pictures is to take them of myself!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tORyjTE0I/AAAAAAAAAGs/8ToQnRpUIJQ/s1600-h/IMG_0644.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186825463381824322" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tORyjTE0I/AAAAAAAAAGs/8ToQnRpUIJQ/s400/IMG_0644.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron washed up onshore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tOSCjTE1I/AAAAAAAAAG0/AkHm16Pt0I4/s1600-h/IMG_0650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186825467676791634" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tOSCjTE1I/AAAAAAAAAG0/AkHm16Pt0I4/s400/IMG_0650.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having fun in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNBCjTEuI/AAAAAAAAAF8/g-8C41kxmn4/s1600-h/IMG_0568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186824076107387618" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNBCjTEuI/AAAAAAAAAF8/g-8C41kxmn4/s400/IMG_0568.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNBSjTEvI/AAAAAAAAAGE/TUHVq56s4AE/s1600-h/IMG_0571.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186824080402354930" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNBSjTEvI/AAAAAAAAAGE/TUHVq56s4AE/s400/IMG_0571.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNBijTEwI/AAAAAAAAAGM/fEcgywkxNrI/s1600-h/IMG_0578.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186824084697322242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tNBijTEwI/AAAAAAAAAGM/fEcgywkxNrI/s400/IMG_0578.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! What a great...um...mound of sand you guys have made!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tORSjTEyI/AAAAAAAAAGc/-dkjRT6rCHw/s1600-h/IMG_0625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186825454791889698" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tORSjTEyI/AAAAAAAAAGc/-dkjRT6rCHw/s400/IMG_0625.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tORijTEzI/AAAAAAAAAGk/2mL078gGRXs/s1600-h/IMG_0626.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186825459086857010" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tORijTEzI/AAAAAAAAAGk/2mL078gGRXs/s400/IMG_0626.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These people would bring this elephant into town every night and for 50 baht (about the equivalent of $1.50) you could feed the elephant bananas and pickles and sit on it. I felt really bad because I felt sorry for the elephant, but the kids loved it. Colin told me it was probably the happiest elephant in Thailand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP0ijTE3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/RnzYDRfpjuk/s1600-h/IMG_0671.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186827159893906290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP0ijTE3I/AAAAAAAAAHE/RnzYDRfpjuk/s400/IMG_0671.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karon Beach&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP0yjTE4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/J168VN7o0z4/s1600-h/IMG_0677.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186827164188873602" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP0yjTE4I/AAAAAAAAAHM/J168VN7o0z4/s400/IMG_0677.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All Alex and Ali could do was watch when the big waves came. Such a pathetic picture, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP0CjTE2I/AAAAAAAAAG8/6plUo8_hpHc/s1600-h/IMG_0662.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186827151303971682" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP0CjTE2I/AAAAAAAAAG8/6plUo8_hpHc/s400/IMG_0662.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main street that runs along the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP1SjTE6I/AAAAAAAAAHc/NQHD1ETjh_M/s1600-h/IMG_0712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186827172778808226" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP1SjTE6I/AAAAAAAAAHc/NQHD1ETjh_M/s400/IMG_0712.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the same restaurant where the band is singing outside on the video. The band was &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; embarrassingly bad. They knew only about half of the lyrics of the songs, so alot of the music was hummed in unison. Pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP1CjTE5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/QBFkK-Exo0Q/s1600-h/IMG_0711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186827168483840914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tP1CjTE5I/AAAAAAAAAHU/QBFkK-Exo0Q/s400/IMG_0711.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex loves his daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;br /&gt;-jodi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-1620209400018370637?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/1620209400018370637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=1620209400018370637' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/1620209400018370637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/1620209400018370637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title='It&apos;s Pronounced Pooh-ket (just in case you&apos;re wondering)'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_tLdijTEoI/AAAAAAAAAFM/QRzPl1fKa1c/s72-c/IMG_0513.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-2746415658633859179</id><published>2008-04-07T10:59:00.026+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T06:36:55.792+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Popularity</title><content type='html'>This is the title that was bestowed upon Eric during his visit with us. The kids were SO excited to see him. The week pretty much consisted of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wanna sit next to Eric!"&lt;br /&gt;"No! &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; wanna sit next to Eric!"&lt;br /&gt;"Mom!!! Tell Eric to sit next to me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Eric was the object of a sibling tug of war. (And poor Cameron was discarded quicker than a piece of chopped liver. Luckily, he understood and didn't take it personally!) We devised a simple plan: one of the kids can sit next to Eric in the car, then the other one can sit next to him at the restaurant. Seemed to work. Well, except for the fact that Eric was crammed into the backseat of the car, next to a carseat, anytime we went anywhere and that he had to endure random comments and inane conversation from whichever little person was at his side. But hey, that's one of the privileges that comes with being "Mr. Popularity". It's quite an honor. Eric was a good sport about it, though, and I'm pretty sure that he didn't know that if you sat on the toilet with the door closed and the light off, the Toilet Monster would come up and scratch your butt. Or that lightning has so much "lecktrickazy" in it that it can make your hair go straight up! So at least he learned something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice visit with him; it was good to have the whole family back together again. We're looking forward to him coming over in July so that we can all settle in together. Here are a few pictures from the week that he spent with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBbyjTEcI/AAAAAAAAADs/ifpy12jZxvo/s1600-h/IMG_0347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186389129064288706" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBbyjTEcI/AAAAAAAAADs/ifpy12jZxvo/s400/IMG_0347.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric's plane got in very late, so Alison didn't see him until she woke up in the morning. This is a picture of her seeing him for the first time. She was SO excited for him to come and visit and had talked about it for weeks ahead of time. She was actually kind of shy when she first saw him and just sat and smiled and stared at him for a few moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBcCjTEdI/AAAAAAAAAD0/RmCsPJp43zE/s1600-h/IMG_0349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186389133359256018" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBcCjTEdI/AAAAAAAAAD0/RmCsPJp43zE/s400/IMG_0349.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colin, Eric and Alex eating in Holland Village near our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBcijTEeI/AAAAAAAAAD8/UaqN0xjtrgo/s1600-h/IMG_0362.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nEnSjTEkI/AAAAAAAAAEs/RwXonje6oC8/s1600-h/IMG_0362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186392625167667778" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nEnSjTEkI/AAAAAAAAAEs/RwXonje6oC8/s400/IMG_0362.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the kids. We had just finished seeing a movie (which explains the sweaters on the little ones). It's about 90 degrees every day in Singapore, but they crank up the AC in restaurants, malls and theaters. Anyway, this is in front of one of the (gigantic) malls that are all over Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBcyjTEfI/AAAAAAAAAEE/jroJQSDNJKQ/s1600-h/IMG_0409.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186389146244157938" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBcyjTEfI/AAAAAAAAAEE/jroJQSDNJKQ/s400/IMG_0409.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ali won and got to sit next to him at dinner, apparently. This is in Clarke Quay by the river.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBdCjTEgI/AAAAAAAAAEM/M-lbTmHcMNA/s1600-h/IMG_0423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186389150539125250" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBdCjTEgI/AAAAAAAAAEM/M-lbTmHcMNA/s400/IMG_0423.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron was also glad to have Eric back around. They goof around so much and have a good time together as you can tell by the next few pictures....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nCWijTEhI/AAAAAAAAAEU/bE5uQvwiB-c/s1600-h/IMG_0424.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186390138381603346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nCWijTEhI/AAAAAAAAAEU/bE5uQvwiB-c/s400/IMG_0424.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nCWyjTEiI/AAAAAAAAAEc/-RJPTwfLhfU/s1600-h/IMG_0425.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186390142676570658" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nCWyjTEiI/AAAAAAAAAEc/-RJPTwfLhfU/s400/IMG_0425.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nCXCjTEjI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Yf5lifoRkbg/s1600-h/IMG_0427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186390146971537970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nCXCjTEjI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Yf5lifoRkbg/s400/IMG_0427.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nHKijTElI/AAAAAAAAAE0/bZtlG02lZpA/s1600-h/IMG_0431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186395429781312082" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nHKijTElI/AAAAAAAAAE0/bZtlG02lZpA/s400/IMG_0431.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See? Can't take them anywhere! But they do make us laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nHLCjTEmI/AAAAAAAAAE8/m6piiHtc_io/s1600-h/03-17-08_2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186395438371246690" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nHLCjTEmI/AAAAAAAAAE8/m6piiHtc_io/s400/03-17-08_2009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was taken with my cell phone, so the quality isn't that great, but it's such a sweet picture, I had to include it. I love how Ali has her hand on Eric's chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nKZCjTEnI/AAAAAAAAAFE/SQDSR74L9ZY/s1600-h/IMG_0421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186398977424298610" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nKZCjTEnI/AAAAAAAAAFE/SQDSR74L9ZY/s400/IMG_0421.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;br /&gt;-jodi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-2746415658633859179?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/2746415658633859179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=2746415658633859179' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2746415658633859179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/2746415658633859179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/04/mr-popularity.html' title='Mr. Popularity'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R_nBbyjTEcI/AAAAAAAAADs/ifpy12jZxvo/s72-c/IMG_0347.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-8910655265935548695</id><published>2008-03-16T23:31:00.016+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T03:12:51.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's (Not) Go Krogering</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile since I've sat down long enough at the computer to write much of anything. We've had some recent developments:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One, we got our sea shipment at the end of February. I think I've finally got everything put away. Or at least stashed somewhere that I don't have to look at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two, I got a new camera. A Canon S5IS for anyone who's interested in knowing. Set Colin back a pret-ty penny, too, I might add. That'll teach 'im! He won't be leaving &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; camera in bathrooms, I don't think! Though now what will I say to him whenever a picture-worthy event happens? I won't be able to say, "Gee, wish I could take a picture of that" or "Wow. &lt;em&gt;That&lt;/em&gt; would've been a good picture" anymore. Hmmmm. I'll think of something. I know how much he must miss me saying that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, hooray on both counts! Yes, things are looking up here in Singapore. Even more so now that I've discovered my new favorite person. And his name would be Kenny the Grocer. Kenny is my new favorite person because he has rescued me from one of my Top 5 Most Hated Domestic Chores: Grocery Shopping. It ranks up there with Cooking (holding strong in the number 1 spot), Mopping, Cleaning the Bathrooms, and -- well, okay let's just admit it, Most Other Domestic Chores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, if you think that grocery shopping in America is a pain, it's like some sort of sick joke in Singapore. Though you'll shop at the same grocery chain, you'll quickly find that not every store carries the same items. You'll also learn the hard way that just because the store had something in stock last week doesn't mean that they'll have it this week (or next week, or the week after that). And there will inevitably be at least 7 items on your list that you'll have to race around to no less than 3 different stores for -- and one of those stores &lt;em&gt;must&lt;/em&gt; be on the other side of Singapore in an area that you have never been to. And then you'll find that you're sharing tips and trading info with your neighbor and the ladies in your daughter's ballet class. "Oh, they got a shipment in of Tostitos at the Cold Storage on 6th Avenue!" "Hey, I saw macaroni and cheese at the King Albert Cold Storage last week." "Can anyone tell me where I can find a box of &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;{&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;insert name of hard-to-find, but must-have item here}&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;?" "Oh, good luck finding that! I haven't seen that since last September." But still, you give it a try. You go to the grocery store (fight traffic, pay to park, find a spot). You get your 20 cents out to pay for your cart. Ooops, don't have change? Well, get one of those free kiddie carts with the orange bicycle flag on it then. Off you go. And you'll actually make a day (an entire day!) of pinballing from one store to the next, frantically gathering the items on your list, doing one of the things that you hate most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day, your doorbell rings and there, in a ray of light, stands Kenny the Grocer who asks you if there's anything you need from the store; he'll go get it for you. &lt;em&gt;[Cue the Hallelujah chorus]&lt;/em&gt; His grocery works with all of the Cold Storages and they have "plenty supply", so "no problem!" Kenny has brought me those little teddy bear cookies that Ali likes so much (not Teddy Grahams, but as close as we can find here) and Easy Mac macaroni when there was none to be found. He brings me Alex's soy milk (Silk in the blue box only! A rare item here.) He brings my fresh fruit, meat, milk, juice, cereal, ice cream....everything. I truly believe that if Kenny can't get it for me, it's not in this country. I pay Kenny the same price that I pay in the grocery store. (I don't dare question how this is possible) &lt;em&gt;And&lt;/em&gt; he unpacks it for me and promises to call tomorrow. No more grocery scavenger hunts for me! Whatever will I do with my time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I have a special place in my heart for Kenny. I don't even mind that he keeps calling me "CahleenMahtin". I tried and gave up explaining to Kenny that Colin is my husband, my name is Jodi. But he will hear none of it. To Kenny, I'm still "CahleenMahtin". And that's OK, because whether we call each other by the right names isn't important. What's important is that Kenny calls me every morning ("except no Sundays!") and asks me if there's anything I need from the store that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-8910655265935548695?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/8910655265935548695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=8910655265935548695' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/8910655265935548695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/8910655265935548695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/03/lets-not-go-krogering.html' title='Let&apos;s (Not) Go Krogering'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-7619546995111918315</id><published>2008-02-19T08:23:00.033+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T06:36:57.551+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Excuse Me, Can I Check Your Pockets?</title><content type='html'>Alot of you have asked to see pictures of Singapore, the house, us, etc. I would LOVE to be able to put some pictures up, but sadly, cannot. The reason? My camera was stolen last week. I'm not one to point fingers, so I won't come right out and say whose fault it was. But you know that guy that I'm married to? It was his fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me explain... We were at a playground with the little ones and I had asked him to hold the camera for me while I took Alex to the bathroom. In the meantime, Ali decided that she had to go to the bathroom (naturally). Col--I mean that guy that I'm married to, laid the camera on a ledge in the bathroom and forgot to get it before he walked out. To his credit, he did remember almost immediately and turned around, ten steps out the door and went back in, but it was already gone. There were two guys who he had passed on his way out of the bathroom, and he confronted one and actually asked the guy to empty his pockets so he could make sure that he didn't have the camera! (Desperation and panic had set in at this point, obviously.) Well, after a thorough search, Colin determined that Suspect #1 didn't have the camera. And of course, the other guy had already skulked out of the bathroom by then. By the time Colin came back to where I was and (with fear in his heart, I'm sure!) told me what had happened, our thief was long gone. We looked all over for him, but couldn't find him. So, if you happen to see a Chinese guy in a dark blue shirt with a backpack on, stop him! He's got my camera! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Obviously, I could care less about my camera. I mean, yes, I'm mad that someone took it, but it's the pictures that I care about. And of course, my camera was full of three weeks worth of wonderful shots and videos. All of them gone now, belonging to the Chinese guy. I mean, if you're going to steal a camera, at least have enough decency to leave the memory card behind! Geez!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So as of now, the only pictures I have are a handful that I had put on our computer when we first got our air shipment. There weren't many to begin with, and after eliminating those where someone's eyes are closed, I look fat or it's just a bad shot, leaves very few to share. But here are a few that made the cut. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Click on the pictures to enlarge them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7ouSuAFBRI/AAAAAAAAAAk/2Jx2ninVxSM/s1600-h/P1020152.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKDeAFBfI/AAAAAAAAACU/9K9Aft2gnKA/s1600-h/P1020152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168524945814521330" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKDeAFBfI/AAAAAAAAACU/9K9Aft2gnKA/s400/P1020152.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walking along the Singapore River. We're on our way to take a bum boat tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKE-AFBiI/AAAAAAAAACs/lY7m4a58V0Q/s1600-h/P1020160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168524971584325154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKE-AFBiI/AAAAAAAAACs/lY7m4a58V0Q/s400/P1020160.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a bum boat. Authentic looking, huh? Wonder if the 16th century bum boats had car tires on them, too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKD-AFBgI/AAAAAAAAACc/ccbduSHWzJI/s1600-h/P1020155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168524954404455938" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKD-AFBgI/AAAAAAAAACc/ccbduSHWzJI/s400/P1020155.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Waiting for Colin to run to the ATM to get cash. Bum boat operators don't take debit cards. Go figure! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pM2uAFBmI/AAAAAAAAADM/ImIYV0Fz_L8/s1600-h/P1020158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168528025306072674" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pM2uAFBmI/AAAAAAAAADM/ImIYV0Fz_L8/s400/P1020158.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Colin and Alex enjoying the ride. Or perhaps a little intoxicated by the diesel fumes from the engine. Either way, they seem to be enjoying themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKFeAFBjI/AAAAAAAAAC0/GST-mlWhRiY/s1600-h/P1020169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168524980174259762" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKFeAFBjI/AAAAAAAAAC0/GST-mlWhRiY/s400/P1020169.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The small buildings are part of one of the three Quays - a large commercial area along the river and extending inland with restaurants, nightclubs, etc. The tall buildings are part of the Central Business District.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKEeAFBhI/AAAAAAAAACk/sFZ3U-jk-RY/s1600-h/P1020157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168524962994390546" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKEeAFBhI/AAAAAAAAACk/sFZ3U-jk-RY/s400/P1020157.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cameron just HAD to have a picture of this. Take a look at the name of the snack. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pK1uAFBlI/AAAAAAAAADE/HmO80pGRFwA/s1600-h/P1020170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168525809102947922" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pK1uAFBlI/AAAAAAAAADE/HmO80pGRFwA/s400/P1020170.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ali is enjoying her $8 ice cream and a free kiss from Cameron. This is in Holland Village, which is about a 15 minute walk from our house. It's very popular and very busy. So busy, that it's nearly impossible to find a parking spot. In fact, men stand in the parking lot and offer to drive your car around and find a spot for you. Yeah right, I don't &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm still shopping around for a camera (I wasn't too crazy about the one that I had anyway!) and I will definitely post pictures once I buy one. Check back soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;More later!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-7619546995111918315?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/7619546995111918315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=7619546995111918315' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/7619546995111918315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/7619546995111918315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/02/excuse-me-can-i-check-your-pockets.html' title='Excuse Me, Can I Check Your Pockets?'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Do4S84PPZ3w/R7pKDeAFBfI/AAAAAAAAACU/9K9Aft2gnKA/s72-c/P1020152.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629878609378626349.post-7032278199005443678</id><published>2008-02-15T20:11:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T23:02:23.769+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Geography Lesson and an Update</title><content type='html'>Being so far away from everyone and trying to keep everyone updated on our goings-on so far has been kind of hard, so I thought I'd try my hand at starting a blog. I can't make any promises, but I'm hoping to post on a regular basis. I'll probably just ramble on about nothing in particular in most of my posts; so if you have nothing better to do (you've alphabetized your canned goods, scrubbed the grout in your bathroom with a toothbrush, and memorized A-M of the phone book) and you'd like see how things are going, you can just check it out. Obviously, I'd still love to get emails, but I think this might be an easier way for me to "communicate to the masses". So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mapsofworld.com/singapore/maps/singapore-location-map.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.mapsofworld.com/singapore/maps/singapore-location-map.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OK, so here we are in Singapore. For those of you who aren't quite sure where Singapore is, you're not alone. Cameron thought that we were moving to Mexico when he first heard of it. (Well done, IHS Geography 101!) Anyway, I've inserted this handy map. If you click on it, you can see that Singapore is that teeny, tiny dot in Southeast Asia, just below Malaysia. In fact, so tiny that the black dot is covering the whole island on this map! Anyway, it's about a 20+ hour flight from America; not exactly convenient for weekend trips to visit mom and dad! But on the plus side, a mere 1 1/2 hour flight to places like Bali, Phuket, Java, Bangkok; a 4 hour flight to Hong Kong, the Maldives...Places that we hope to check out while we're over on this side of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll do a quick update in this post and then will post day to day-type things in my other posts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things so far are going good. We are settling in as best that we can without many of our household goods. We're waiting on our sea container to arrive and in the meantime have rental furniture. The house is pretty sparse right now, so I can't wait to fill it up with our stuff and make it feel more like home. When we arrived, we thought that our air shipment would be here waiting for us. We had packed towels, sheets, kitchen supplies, our computer, etc. Just a few things that we figured we'd need right off the bat. Well, (of course!) it wasn't here. It took three weeks before our air shipment arrived. So, in the meantime, we bought one towel and small blanket per person, we were eating off of paper plates, using plastic utensils and washing styrofoam cups. We were roughing it! Of course, it's hard to cook without kitchen supplies, so we ate out quite a bit. (Oh darn!!) My neighbor lent me a skillet, though, and I bought a giant pot that did double duty as a steamer and stock pot, so eventually I was forced to cook meals for my family. Our air shipment arrived safely a couple of weeks ago. I don't think I was ever so glad to see a can opener in my life. Pretty sad stuff, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron and Alex started school at the American School the week after we got here. They are settling in. I know it can't be easy starting a new school in the middle of the year, let alone moving to a new country to do it. They both seem to be adjusting, though, and are doing pretty good so far. The school itself is amazing. They have a great campus and awesome facilities for all of the kids. For example, Alex's PE class is doing a swimming segment this quarter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron just got back from his interim semester trip. He went to an island in Indonesia with about 20 kids from his school. (Interim semester is a type of "life enrichment" project that's a requirement for all high school students at the American School. The students have over 100 places all over the world to choose from to go to, with seniors getting first choice. Places like Australia, Nepal, Rome, Greece, Indonesia, New Zealand...I was jealous!) I had hoped that this would not only be a great experience for Cameron, but would also give him the chance to bond with some other kids from school, and it did. He made several new friends and had a great time. I'm so relieved! I'll have to write more about his trip in another post and maybe post some pictures that he took, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alex is doing good in 1st grade. I met with his teacher last week and she said that he's fitting in well so far. She did say that when they need partners to do something in class, all of the girls want to know if Alex can be their partner. When I asked Alex about it, he just smiled and said, "I think they like my hair." Our own little Casanova!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alison and I are together during the day while the boys are at school. She and I go on walks, go to the park, explore Singapore and spend alot of time at the American Club. They have tons of activities, classes, a pool, library, spa, gym, restaurants, game room, bowling alley...you name it. Alison has swimming lessons and ballet class every week there and she's loving it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric is coming to visit us for spring break and we're really looking forward to him being here and all of us being together. Unfortunately, his break is the week before Cameron and Alex's break, so they'll still have to be at school, but I'm sure we'll find plenty to do during the day. He'll move over here in mid-July to do his sophomore year at the American School. I know that Cameron, especially, will be happy to have his brother and friend back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think that covers the basics for now. Of course, there are a hundred things I could tell you about living in Singapore and adjusting to life over here, but I'll save that for another time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;More later!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3629878609378626349-7032278199005443678?l=fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/feeds/7032278199005443678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3629878609378626349&amp;postID=7032278199005443678' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/7032278199005443678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3629878609378626349/posts/default/7032278199005443678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fishheadcurryandsuch.blogspot.com/2008/02/geography-lesson-and-update.html' title='A Geography Lesson and an Update'/><author><name>Jodi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771643381460261987</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry></feed>
