When I bought the “idea” of my apartment at the launch, it was scary and exciting.
Scary to re-commit to a new 27-year mortgage at 48, and exciting to think I could have my own jacuzzi on my roof terrace.
Being Chinese, I was appropriately modest, and announced on my Facebook Status, “Applying for a job as a Jacuzzi cleaner…”
A few friends were not fooled by my false modesty and asked what I meant.
Which, of course, was my intent all along – to be able to tell about my purchase.
Then, I invited them to a Jacuzzi Party, when I eventually take possession of my not-yet-built apartment. It would take almost 4 years, according to the development plans. It was Feb 2012 then. Expected completion was Dec 2015.
I planned for a jacuzzi party in Jan 2016. And invited some friends.
In my mind, it would be a happening party with champagne, cool people, good looking people, happy people who were all there because they were my friends.
Fast forward three years. The apartment was completed (early, as is the norm in Singapore.) The party was brought forward (“prepone” if you are Indian) to Jan 2015.
And it was adapted to include the occasion of my daughter’s first month celebration (Chinese custom. Look it up. Or I might post something in future) as well.
In the three years since I invited them, many had gotten married, had kids and while still my friends, were less “swinging”.
So at my Baby Z’s full month celebration, there was the oohing and aahing over Baby Z, and then because it was supposed to have been a jacuzzi party, some of us trooped up to stare wistfully at the Jacuzzi.
“Wow. Nice,” one of them felt she had to say. No one had brought their bikinis or swimsuits, and no, no one was planning on skinny-dipping in my jacuzzi.
“You know,” one of the cool person I had invited to the Jacuzzi party started to say, “when I imagined a jacuzzi party, I had this image of me lounging in the jacuzzi with a glass of champagne in my hand.”
She had since adopted a girl.
“Yeah. I know what you mean,” I told her.
Nothing like a Jacuzzi party to burst your dreams… or to send you off on new ones.
A few of us (five? Me included) had gotten married and have kids. One adopted a kid. One left to work overseas. There were some breakups and heartbreaks.
A lot can happen in 3 years and a lot did happen.
We didn’t have a Jacuzzi party in the end.
But we had something better. Something “realler”.