All posts by Rebecca Michelle

Educator, traveler, reader, blogger. Loves learning, black coffee, and friendly people.

Gardens by the Bay

I haven’t been out of Singapore since I went to Chiang Mai about a month ago, and I’m getting antsy. That’s one of the problem with travelling so often, I think. I love traveling and exploring new places; staying in one place for (gasp!) four whole weekends seems like a lot.

Today was our fourth non-hazy day in a row, though it wasn’t a terribly nice day. The sun poked through the clouds every now and then, but wasn’t actually shining past about 11am. The last three days have been much nicer. Nevertheless, I had to do something new and exciting. Last weekend I went to the National Museum to see the newly renovated permanent exhibit, and today I went to Gardens by the Bay to see what I could see.

I’ve been to Gardens by the Bay only once before, which was at night on SG50. That was a very different atmosphere. Today the Gardens were calm, peaceful, and a wonderful break from the urban jungle that is Singapore. The Gardens by the Bay are connected to Marina Bay Sands, so there’s more than one “wow” factor to a visit there. I highly recommend it. A lot of people have heard of the supertrees, but I’ve linked a quick CNN article from 2012 for those who want more information. They’re as super as you can imagine.

Singapore calls itself “A City in a Garden,” and sometimes I have to agree that it’s true. However, Singapore’s industry is never far away because the island is quite small.

The shipping lanes are rather nearby the tranquil Gardens by the Bay. It reminded me of visiting Sentosa and watching oil refineries do their thing.
The shipping lanes are rather nearby the tranquil Gardens by the Bay. It reminded me of visiting Sentosa and watching oil refineries do their thing.

But then, when I turned my attention to the innards of the supertrees, I couldn’t care less about the refineries and shipping lanes. People have to make a living, after all.

P1050393 P1050394

I couldn’t resist taking a few close-ups of the foliage, either. I don’t know how good these photos are, but their subjects are pretty! There are themed gardens at Gardens by the Bay like the Indian, Chinese, and Malay gardens, as well as gardens showcasing trees, mushrooms, and fruits!

The strangest feature of Gardens by the Bay is this sculpture (people included in the photo for scale):

Giant baby sculture

Lucky for me (and for all the other curious patrons) it was accompanied by this helpful explanation:

Helpful explanation

I’m not really a fan of the sculpture, but I think the rationale for it is beautiful. At any rate, it was a lovely afternoon spent at the Gardens by the Bay. I’m sure I’ll be back – hopefully on a clearer day!

Let’s Talk About Sex

As all men, women, and increasingly younger groups children are fully aware, we live in a society obsessed with sex. We live in a culture that make oodles of money developing products that convince people they’ll look, feel, and even be sexier just though wearing that dress, rolling up the sleeves on that shirt, eating that low-everything meal, and smelling like that new product. As any woman who has recently walked through the blindingly pink “feminine hygiene supplies” section of any supermarket or pharmacy knows, there’s always something new to try to get us whatever we’ve been missing. (Increasingly, we’re told that we’re missing more and more, but that’s a topic for another blog post.)

Today I stumbled across a feminine hygiene product I certainly will not be buying: green tea scented pantiliners.

Enough said, but I’ll say more.

Like many women, I wear a pantiliner every day. I’ve done this for so long that I can’t remember not doing it. Like most people, I also wear deodorant every day. Same story regarding length of time, though I do remember that I was really upset the night my mum told me I smelled.

I have never, however, worn anything scented. I’m really sensitive to smells and the concept of having armpits that smell like flowers or ocean breezes just doesn’t make sense to me. If the idea is to not smell, the logical thing is to buy unscented deodorant. I know I’m in the minority here, especially with women. However, I can’t say I’ve ever walked by a woman and thought, “Mmm ocean breeze.” (Alternatively, when I walk by a man wearing a certain brand of deodorant favored by high school athletes I generally think, “Ew Axe,” which I’m sure is not what that hopeful teen or immature 20-something is going for.) When you’re not wearing deodorant, though, I notice.

When choosing pantiliners, I have one rule. They need to be unscented. For several reasons:

Firstly, chemicals. I don’t need any chemicals down there, thank you very much. There’s enough to worry about without the itchy feeling that I get from even thinking about chemicals in that particular area.

Secondly, the point is to be dry. The point is not to smell and also to not smell, which are different things if you think about it closely.

Thirdly, we all know that scent matters. Back in high school, I wore a vanilla body spray from Bath and Body Works (as did about ten million other girls, I’d imagine) and the boy used to like to kiss me on the wrist because that’s one of the places where I put it. You can do that in public without people staring. If a different scented region is the spot you like to kiss, there are far fewer opportunities to do so.

But hey, if green tea scented private areas make you feel beautiful, go for it. In the end, that’s what matters.

Lightbulbs (and the stark reality of independence)

I’m speaking quite literally here. Two of the lightbulbs in my rather fancy light fixture in the living room have burnt out and I need help replacing them. I am 5 feet and one and a half inches tall. Standing on my coffee table puts me nowhere near the light. It would probably behoove me to buy a step ladder, but that would involve buying a step ladder. Considering I know my days in this apartment are numbered, I’m not keen on spending any more money than I have to in order to live comfortably.

That being said, trying to read when two of five lightbulbs in the only light fixture anywhere near the couch have burnt out is not exactly comfortable. I have to admit, I’m relying on the fact that my dad is coming to visit in just over two weeks. If he weren’t . . . I’d probably just have a few tall friends over and see what they could accomplish while standing on the coffee table.

In all seriousness, though, I like to think of myself as an independent woman. In most ways, I am. I could easily fix this myself. However, I’m making the conscious decision not to.

And I’m not sure why.

The first lightbulb burnt out about two weeks ago, and that’s when I first thought, “Well, at least Dad’s coming.”

I think that in some ways, we all like to be helped and, conversely, to be needed. The roles that we are accustomed to playing are comfortable for us and help preserve the status quo or social norms govern our lives. There’s all sorts of research on sibling relationships and birth order to suggest that.

In my DP Psych class, we’ve been talking about situational and dispositional factors that influence behavior. In this particular case, dispositional factors are influencing my decision to squint at my book for the next two and some weeks before my dad arrives and changes my lightbulbs. It’s been a while since I’ve let someone take care of me; it’s been a while since I’ve let myself simply be someone’s child.

Even though I chose to live halfway around the world and I live alone, I miss that.


Update: Upon further reflection, I decided that my behavior described above is both ridiculous and unacceptable. Today after school I popped into a Chinese supermarket (though really the only thing “super” about it is its wine prices) and bought two new lightbulbs. I set a very sturdy kitchen chair on top of the coffee table, which is so heavy I can’t even move it, and managed to replace the lightbulbs. Hooray for independence!