My voice is getting lower.

My singing voice, that is. My speaking voice hasn’t broken, or anything.

It’s been lower than when I first started singing seriously (as opposed to silly-ly) for a while now; but it’s got even lower. I knew that on Valentine’s Day I would be pretty much obliged to sing ‘My Funny Valentine’ at least once during the night; so double-checked my key.

I took it down from F minor to D minor.

To those of you to whom that means nothing: in short, I now have the voice of a tenor. Not even an alto. A tenor.

A fact which was thrown even more into the spotlight on Saturday, when a young, local saxophonist, J, sat in for the final set. (To those of you to whom that means nothing: he joined in).

J plays tenor sax - beautifully, with a tone like Ben Webster’s - and it was a joy to have him perform with us. It was also slightly alarming, though not unpleasant, to realise that my range is so low that it’s practically the same as his; and so we found ourselves singing/playing similar notes  - sometimes in a similar swooping, breathy, way.

Who’d have thunk it?

I already have a trumpet impression pretty much perfected. Perhaps I should now work on a sax one? 

Malaysian currency - ringgits and sens (as in ‘cents’) - really is rather good. 

For these two reasons:

1. The notes are all different sizes and colours according to their denomination; and the coins are similarly logically sized/coloured. On the very first day I used both notes and coins, at a supermarket, I found myself paying for something as quickly as a native. This is as opposed to any time I’m in America, when I stand deliberating like a tourist (or in the case of notes: a native), trying to work out the denomination of each note and the value of each coin. It could possibly be the world’s simplest currency. 

2. One Malaysian Ringgit is roughly equal to 15 British pence - which means that you think you’re spending a lot, when in fact you’re spending very little. As a result, you find yourself curbing your spending (even though goods are much cheaper over here) as your brain thinks that 50 Ringgits is a fortune, when actually it’s about five quid. This is very helpful when you are, as I am, up financial poo creek without a Ringgit.  


(PS. I was originally going to call this post ‘Notes From A Small Island’ - which, thinking about it, could have been a good alternative title for the blog. Maybe that’s what I’ll call my next one, should I ever find myself singing in Corsica/Sicily/Anglesey).  

My friend V arrived from London yesterday, and I’m doing a pretty good job of making her remain in jetlag, and thus keep my hours for a week.

She went to bed like a wuss at around 11pm last night; but tonight we were on true jetsetter/musician form, and ate out at 11pm. That said, we were completely unaware of how late it was. You know you’re a jetsetter/musician when you sit down to eat halfway through your evening, and the waiter says: “Excuse me, ma’am, but it’s last orders in the kitchen.”

I’m sure he said the “ma’am” bit, too.

V and I had spent the afternoon - I don’t do mornings, remember - eating brunch, lounging by the pool, investigating the mall, blogging for work (me) and sunbathing (V). I was astounded by how easily she coped with the furnace-like temperatures here; although, that said, her skin didn’t cope quite as well. Thus she is very red in certain places as I type this.

This evening, we went into Georgetown - starting the night, as has become my wont, at the E&O Hotel. We then went off exploring for food, walking through some of the fascinating smaller streets in Georgetown that I haven’t investigated yet. V was slightly alarmed by the idea of eating in a street cafe (don’t worry, by the end of the week I’ll have her eating dahl with her hands), so in the end we plumped for a very nice Asian/fusion restaurant on the main drag.

We sat outside, directly opposite this sign:

Sadly, it was a Sunday, and neither of us was wearing a mini skirt. But at least that prevented the awkward possibility of one of us winning the title of most Sexiest Girl.