MY WEDDING DIARY: HOW WE GOT HERE

Two months ago on our sixth anniversary, the love of my life got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. To say I was not expecting it would be a big lie, what with my Asian parents bringing up the topic of marriage every single time I called them. As our anniversary and our Japan trip approached, my parents started speculating on the possibilities of our engagement happening then.

I'm not a big fan of surprises or the unknown, so I got my detective cap on and tried every trick I had in my books to coax/persuade/trick/interrogate Steven into revealing even just a sliver of detail about what's happening on our anniversary (apart from our dinner in Nobu). Finally, on a terrible day at work I asked him right away if I should be expecting a proposal, and he said: "These things take time..." 

How about six years? Is that enough time? Those few words broke my heart because it seemed like there's something about me, or about us that he is still unsure of. Needless to say I texted him a long-winded essay littered with words like "commitment," "perfection," "security," "future," straight out of Dr. Phil..

Later that day I acknowledged that perhaps I had overreacted, so we got on our day. On our anniversary, I was buzzed with excitement about our Japan trip and totally immersed in bliss with Steven's company and the beautiful food at Nobu that I couldn't care less if we just "live in sin" forever.

It was a beautiful night, one of those late Spring nights with cool breeze, where you can just feel the summer air, but it is not stinking hot as the Australian summer tend to be. We had the windows down on our way home from Crown Melbourne, when Steven did a last-minute sharp right turn on the road leading to Brighton beach, where we first met. "Let's' chill out by the beach, it's a nice night," he says. OK then...

Our spot on the beach was a tucked away cove with spectacular vista of city lights. I remember fondly of that night in 2009, we sat in Steve's Ford Falcon and talked for hours about everything and nothing. Oh how time has passed! The tucked away cove is now a hangout spot for dreadlock-wearing hippies in their RVs. But beside the car park is a small park of sort with a few benches. That'll do.

In complete darkness, I went on and on about how beautiful the night was...how excited I was to be going to Japan with him, what we needed to get from Big W the next day, and how full I was from the food earlier. At some point, I noticed that Steven was a bit fidgety and he was standing behind me. So I urged him to sit, repeatedly. "Yea, later..." he said at one time. "I feel like standing," he said another time. "Alright! I'll come and sit!"

Then he was there, on one knee, with a slight tremble in his voice, telling me all those wonderful things and asked me to his life partner. With a sky full of stars,  a van of hippies and the city lights as witness, I agreed to be his wife.

... And so here we are, planning a wedding.

365

Since I penned the post "Why I Write," I've seemed to have come to a better understanding of my actions, and I am more resolved to jot down my ideas and random thoughts. So, for the first time in years, I am keeping a journal!

I'm one week into journaling and I've realised that:

1. A journal is a good place to vent your frustration and sadness. In the process, you'll be able to get clarity about the issue that makes you frustrated/angry/disappointed/sad. It's a good way to get rid of the negative feelings, and work towards rectifying the situation.

2. A journal is great for recording ideas and dreams. In fact, my journal has inspired me to blog more. I'm clearer than ever on what I want out of my blog, all because everything is recorded. It motivates me to put my words into actions. Since my journal is on my night stand, it has become a habit of mine to record some of my more bizarre dreams on my journal. When I looked back, the central theme of some of my dreams can definitely be workshopped into a short fiction piece.

3. A journal is a wonderful self-improvement tool. I've find that I strive more to be a better person to others and myself since I started keeping a journal. For example, I promised my sister that I would bake her a cake next time I visit. Usually I would forget about it. But somehow I didn't want to disappoint her this time and I baked her the cake she wanted. She was overjoyed, and that made me happy too.

4. A journal has given me more control of my future. Since this is a 365 day project, I've envisioned my goal and what I hoped to pen on the very last entry. Although nothing is certain in this world, I've started getting a clear vision of the steps I can take to get to where I want to be.

5. A journal encourages me to think beyond the obvious. I am determined to not leave any pages blank in my journal, so it has prompted me to stop and think about the little things in life, for materials to write in my journal. In the process, I'm more grateful for everything.

Does Steve knows I have a journal? Yes. I have nothing to hide from him. Sure, some posts may be girly, but they are not things that I would purposely kept hidden from him. I don't shove my journal in his face and force him to read through my scrawls and charts or what-not, but if he ever feels the need to discover something more, he can trawl though the pages and decipher my terrible handwriting!

But seriously, if you are cheating on your spouse or if you have done something terrible, please see a therapist or someone about it, instead of writing it down and hurt your spouse or your loved ones that way. It's a horrible way to find out that you've been betrayed.

On a more positive note, Kikki.K has a wonderful variety of journals and it will definitely appeal to the stationery lovers. I think journaling is a hobby that I will keep for a long time. I've found much joy in it, and I hope you will too.

“Always carry a notebook. And I mean always. The short-term memory only retains information for three minutes; unless it is committed to paper you can lose an idea for ever.” – Will Self

Afew days ago I came across an article on Medium, which perfectly encapsulates the reason for this blog, for any writing that I’ve ever done. If you’re a lover of words, do check out the full list here, written by Jon Westenberg. Here are a few from the list that I can relate to:

#3 There’s no despair that can’t be held at bay with words. I blogged about dealing with grief when my grandma passed away here and here (it’s a bit of a weird read if you’re not accustomed to Asian’s funeral and death rituals). But writing is my therapy and the internet is my (free of charge) therapist.

#8 If I don’t challenge myself, I will atrophy – without writing, my legacy would be a very well curated Netflix library. For me, it will be how I watched the whole season of Empire in one weekend. UnReal is still come up on top though, watched the whole thing in 2 days.

#9 Writing is my own roadmap – it helps me find my way. This is a big one for me. I don’t care if nobody reads my blog, but it has helped me find my way and sort out my feelings since I was 15. Unfortunately this means I have a blog somewhere that contains too many embarrassed poems from my hormone-raged teen years (It’s a private blog now. Don’t even.) I’m more wary of what I put out in the world now, but I still have a random Word document or Notes on my phone, filled with thoughts that I penned down randomly. I really should look into keeping a written journal.

#10 I write to meet people and to connect with others who I might never have had any contact with otherwise. The blogging community is mostly filled with passionate, generous and kind-hearted people. I’ve met so many wonderful and interesting people from home and overseas. E.g. My passion for food has led to me meeting the wonderful Zomato community that has introduced me to more great food writers and lovely individuals, whom I wouldn’t have known otherwise.

#12 Because I fucking love the way simple letters look on a minimalist background. 

#15 All my family write. And always have. It connects us all. Though my parents are not journalists or published writers. Writing is certainly a big part of my upbringing. Dad used to travel a lot and we would wake up to a love letter or note that he has left for mum (and us kids) before he took off to the airport; Written on a clean, white A4 paper with black ink pen, sometimes with drawings but always with love hearts. #relationshipgoals. It’s a tradition that I insist on keeping – Steve and I have been writing each other cards on our birthdays, Valentine’s Day and our anniversary since we first started dating.

When I had been disobedient/ a rebel, mum and dad would write me letters, rationalising why I was grounded/scolded/hit. I still receive emails from Mum and dad with life advice and I cannot thank them enough for taking the time to do that.

#23 Writing can help me relax and breath and take stock of my life. Putting thoughts on paper makes it real. What I have done, have been doing, will do are all abstract until I put it down in words.

What about you? What are your reasons for writing?

GRATEFUL HEART

Every morning I catch up with what’s happening in the world there seems to be all sorts of grim news greeting me: The Mediterrenean refugee crisis, grim employment prospects, rising house prices. When I open up my Instagram feed, it’s glitz, glamour, engagements, weddings, Nutella donut milkshake (nope), babies, HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY. All the while I dread waking up to go to my desk job, anxious that at 26+ I can’t afford a 3 bedroom suburban home in my choice suburb, wondering why my lovely partner of almost 6 years still hasn’t “pop the question” yet. Am I not doing enough, fast enough? Am I “falling behind”? Is this it?

Phew…

So, I need a change of perspective and focus on the good and great things that are happening in my life, because compared to many, I have it easy. Here's another instalment of Grateful Heart.

I have the opportunity to follow my heart 
After I graduated with a Bachelor degree in 2011, I decided to stay in Australia and hopefully carve out a life here. It is not the road untaken, but I am grateful that although my parents did not fully approve of my decision, they still supported me in any way possible.

I started my journey here as a full-fee paying international student and was fortunate enough to find gainful employment in my field of study even while I was studying. Although it was not all smooth-sailing, at least it was a choice I made. Compared to the refugees in detention centres who had to flee their war-torn countries, I am incredibly fortunate.

I can afford to travel
I think I’ve mentioned this one too many time, but I will be going to Japan in November! While I can’t just pack my bags and go on a whim or travel first-class, at least I can afford to see other corners of the world. Just on that alone, I should be incredibly thankful.

My parents are healthy 
My dad just celebrated his 53rd birthday yesterday. I am incredibly thankful that he is in good health. More importantly, I’m so, so grateful that he has given me such a comfortable life. As I grow older, I wonder how my parents do it all and I have a deeper respect for them now. I probably should call home more often though, and I always feel guilty about it.

Beauty of nature
It is almost spring time here in Melbourne! Although I have to make the drive to work every Monday to Friday, at least I am greeted by these gorgeous blooms along the way.

A photo posted by Samantha C (@sammyc_89) on Aug 15, 2015 at 9:22pm PDT

I have an incredibly supportive and loving partner
I must've done some really good things in my past life, because Steven is everything I want and so much more. Almost six years down the road, and I am still greeted with hugs and kisses every day.

A photo posted by Samantha C (@sammyc_89) on Aug 21, 2015 at 9:36pm PDT

Wow… I feel so much better after writing all that. Reflecting on all that I'm grateful for, I'm ready to start a brand new week!

Loving    My new Lululemon exercise top. There is no greater workout motivation than cute sports gear. I found this gorgeous top in Lululemon’s factory outlet store. Nothing irks me more than a sweaty wet top clinging on my skin like saran wrap. I was delighted that the top also absorbs sweat to help me stay comfortable and dry during the most intense workout.

Watching   I'd like to say that I am watching something that makes me seem more enlightened. On that note, how incredible was Monday's Game of Thrones episode???!

Reading   I’ve just finished reading Mindy Kaling’s “Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)” It’s a light-hearted collection of essays from Mindy. I breezed through the book in less than a week because it is simply a witty, fun read. At times, it feels like you’re hanging out with her over a cup of coffee. Can’t wait for her next book, which is slated to be released later this year.

Starting   A new series on my blog, "The Rice Life". This is where you can find collections of recipes, mainly Asian or Asian inspired dishes. All the recipes that I have blogged about over the years tend to get lost amidst everything I post, so this is a way to have everything in one place. This will also be the place where I introduce some ingredients used only in Asian cooking and how to prepare them. There may be some other recipes thrown in there as well :)

Dreading   This winter. It was a chilly start to the winter with night time temperatures plunging to the single digits (Celcius, thankfully.)..and the rain! It hasn't stopped pouring since Monday, the clouds hang super low and by the sun sets way too early. I've never considered wearing gloves in previous years. But this year, I think gloves and waterproof puffy jackets will be my best companion throughout the icy weather.

Looking forward to   The long weekend! Sleep-ins with my love, lounging around the house without a care in the world and the freedom to do whatever I like, whenever I like, however I like. This Saturday, we will be going back to Lucy Liu Kitchen and Bar, a trendy restaurant serving "eclectic Asian food". We were there last year to celebrate our 5 year anniversary, but I was so ill that all my energy was channelled into not passing out. This time around, I'd like to have a cocktail and really enjoy the food and ambience with Steven.

Feeling   At peace. Since my residency was approved, I have been sleeping like a baby every night. No more waking up at 3am! Last Sunday, I finally unpacked all the boxes that were laying around and even stacked my book collection neatly. After all the cleaning and unpacking, I sat on the couch with a warm cup of tea. Looking around me, I couldn't help but smiled, "Ah... I'm home."

Wanting   A trip to the book store to get Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall! I've just realised that I haven't stepped in a book store for a year now. I used to live in Melbourne CBD where great bookstores are just around the corner and the book store I frequented was just a floor below the knitting supplies store. Talk about hitting two birds with one stone. Now that I've moved to a suburb, the closest book store with a decent selection of fiction is 30 minutes drive away in a mall where it is impossible to find a parking after 12pm on a weekend. So I have been relying on iBooks and my Kindle. But nothing beats the feeling of walking among the books and slowly sampling a chapter or two before you walk out with an actual, printed and bound copy of a book.

Planning   A few home-cooked dishes and sweets I'd like to try out this long weekend. Some tips on what they are: 1. A flavour from childhood  2. A yum cha favourite   3. A traditional cookie with significance

Listening to   "Xanadu" by Olivia Newton John. It is the ultimate earworm. After hearing it on Smooth FM, it is stuck in my head. Need. new. songs.   

MALAYSIA AIRLINES RESTRUCTURE - WHAT IT MEANS FOR THIS OCCASIONAL MAS FLYER

You might have heard that Malaysia Airlines (MAS) is current undergoing a major restructure, in a move likened to US bankruptcy Chapter 11. This involves an administrator being appointed, infrastructures shut down or sold off, and the inevitable staff redundancies. In fact, its newly appointed CEO, Christophe Mueller has hinted at a new branding direction and renaming the airline. This could be a change of its symbol, colour or the airline’s name itself.

From a business perspective, I have faith that Mueller is on the right track: A new name and branding will give the airline a renewed hope from a disastrous 2014 that saw the tragedies of MH370 and MH17. As a Malaysian and sometimes passenger of Malaysia Airlines, I cannot help but feel a twinge of sadness that come 1 September, Malaysia Airlines will be relegated to history books.

It is true that Malaysian Airlines have suffered financial loss for many years now, but I am still strangely proud of the airline. Perhaps it is due to the fact that when people have no idea about Malaysia, they have at least flown on Malaysia Airlines – it has given me a point to connect with others in a foreign land. Afterall, “MH”, which stands for Malaysian Hospitality have, for many years, provided its passengers from all over the world a glimpse into the Malaysian culture – from food, promotional/ tourism video, right down to its cabin crew’s uniform…especially its cabin crew’s uniform.

In this day and age where flying seems to have lost its charm, MAS cabin have managed to preserve the old-world charm: it is a delight to see the female crews strolling past the customs check-point in their elegant, feminine and well-fitted kebaya, amidst a sea of suit-skirts and suit-pants. 

Again with the sentiments: As mismanaged as Malaysia Airlines may have been, I had some pretty great travelling experience with the carrier. A few years ago I was aboard the aircraft with my family during Chinese New Year, and we were given special treats on top of the regular flight meal – chocolate in the shape of mandarins. It was a nice touch to acknowledge the multi-cultural society that Malaysia is and it certainly felt festive.

How cute are these!

What’s more, I’m sure many Malaysians would agree that MAS holds a special place in their heart, a name that spells many firsts. In fact, my first trip to Australia was on board a MAS aircraft. I was 20, nervous and excited about embarking on the journey to complete my bachelor degree. It was an exciting time in my life, being the first time I’ve travelled alone. My baggage was overweight and my poor father paid a fortune for the overweight checked baggage (Sorry, Dad!)

But when I was on board, a lovely cabin crew gave me a couple of Ferrero Rochers chocolate truffles upon learning that I was travelling solo. When I told him I had brushed my teeth and may have to declare the chocolates (yeah I brush my teeth on the plane. Dental hygiene is important yo,) he cheekily told me to put them in my pocket and I will get through customs just fine. I followed his advice and got through the customs fine*.

Finally, who can forget that as you land at Kuala Lumpur International Airport with your heart racing just thinking about your loved ones at the arrival gate... and the PA announcement comes on:

“…And to all Malaysians, welcome home.”

Not being a sookie lala here, but I have bawled my eyes out once and got teary-eyed a few times upon hearing that line. It never fails to tug on my heartstrings every time I hear it. After so many years, Malaysia Airlines = home.

I think I got a bit carried away with my MAS stories here, but the point is, though I will miss the old Malaysia Airlines, I hope the new Malaysia Airlines, or whatever it is called, will retain its spirit – warm, friendly yet still rich in Malaysian culture.

*Please remember to declare anything that is listed on the immigration/passenger card.

HOME - NO MORE GOODBYES

This post has been sitting in my draft folder for a while now, because it is about something really special and close to my heart:

Last Thursday, I received the long-awaited and fantastic news that my visa (for permanent residency in Australia) has been granted! After 13 months that consisted of many tears, sleepless nights, fear and anxiety, the business-like email from the Department of Immigration was like a love letter to me. It was such an overwhelming moment that when I broke the news to Steve, I started crying like a mad woman that he thought I was about to be deported.

More than being overwhelmed, I was relieved. Since the day I met Steve, I was constantly faced with the fear that someday we may have to face the possibility of a long-distance relationship, or worse, being separated. Even though I graduated from a university here in Australia, my skills did not qualify for a skill-based migration. So my options were slim. But perhaps due to our relationship, I could qualify for a partner/spouse visa. However, that visa has the highest rejection rates due to fraudulent claims and relationship breakdowns. In addition, it came with a hefty price tags and an insane amount of paperwork to demonstrate that our relationship is true and genuine.

So we sought advice from a migration agent, who advised us patiently on our options and what we could do (while not breaking any policies! No loop holes here) We scrambled and scoured our PC and email inbox for any form of documents that can show that our relationship is continuing and genuine. Thankfully we have special keepsake boxes where we store mementos from each other. In the midst of it all, we faced some bureaucratic red tape that caused delays in some vital documents needed to complete the application. Thankfully, just two days shy of my visa expiry date, my application for a permanent residency was submitted and I received a visa so I can stay in Australia legally.

27-April 2014: The day we submitted our visa application. Faces of hope...and fear.

The following 13 months was bittersweet. It is a long time to be living in uncertainty.  Every moment we had together felt like it could be the last and we just wanted more time together. I cannot count the times I've spent waking up in the middle of the night, anxious and worried about what the future held for us.We put our plans for a marriage, to buy our first home and.. pretty much everything on hold. In addition, we did not dare to make travel plans, in case immigration contact us for more information or to deliver the dreaded news. There were the rare times where I thought rationally and perhaps giving up would be better for us both, but I was so in love with Steve that I couldn't do it.

As the expected decision time came closer, my anxiety level was at an all-time high and I was questioning every single minute details of the application that we submitted. I would be filled with sadness, followed by a random burst of energy to do new things, in a bid to distract myself from what is to come. I remember how I was almost in tears on night while making dinner, because I wasn't sure if I would have the chance to finish using the roll of cling/wrap we have at home.

Who knew a roll of cling wrap can evoke so much emotions..

Finally oh finally, now I can rest easy knowing that Steve and I will not be separated. The world is ours for the taking now - new possibilities, hopes and of course, travel!

I read on the forums that there are many disgruntled applicants complaining about the processing time for the visa, which I kind of agreed. But in the times where fraud is at an all-time high, it is no wonder the immigration department is taking more effort and time to process the applicants. Moreover, while it is difficult for us to put our life plans on hold for so long, Steve and I came out of this experience stronger than ever. Nothing tests a relationship more than adversity and we emerged from it certain that we want to spend the rest of our lives with each other.

Now that I can formally call Australia my home, I am so grateful for all the help and support that was given to me:

The Australian Government and Department of Immigration - Behind every grant letter and request for more information are these tireless (and possibly overworked) people whose good work often go uncredited. Thank you for placing your faith in us and making everything possible.

Our migration agent - Without the advice that comes with their experience, we wouldn't have been able to get everything together so quickly. I am so grateful for their patience while I was at my most anxious.

Friends and family - For all the help, support and kind words. Special thanks to those that helped me out by writing a statement to prove that Steve and I are in a genuine relationship.

Steve - I knew from the moment I met him that we have something really special. I knew of many couples who had to break up because one or the other could not go through the tedious process of applying for the visa. But he stood by me and we made it! No goodbyes and no regrets.

I've always said that home is where Steve is, and I am glad that I am home. Now I can look at this forever:

This is a Grateful Heart linkup with Emily from Ember Grey.

SAYING I LOVE YOU

If you've been following my blog for a while (or if we are friends in flesh and blood) you may have known that my grandmother passed away back in November 2013. It was a tremendously difficult time for me, because unlike most grandmothers who live in elderly care facilities or maintain their own households, my grandma lived with my family for more than 10 years, up until the day she was admitted in ICU. Moreover, her death was sudden and out of the blue.

It was a traumatic event for me and it took me more than a year to have the courage to write and examine my emotions, ever since I penned down my feelings a few days after her passing. The event was even more traumatic for me because I had wanted to call her a few days before she was admitted to the hospital... but I didn't.

Young and naive, I had just started a new role in my job, the 45 minutes daily commute, the three hours' time difference all took a toll on me so I had put off calling my grandma for a few weeks, even though I spoke with my parents once a week. The next thing I knew she was admitted in Intensive Care for septic shock. Naturally, giving her a call was out of the question. Before the week was over I was on the plane back to Malaysia, hoping to see her for the last time (I did not make it in time).

My grandma has always been camera-shy. My only recent picture with her was from 2012.

I will forever live in the regret and guilt that I did not make more effort that day to pick up my phone and call my grandma. Me taking life and love for granted made me miss the last chance to hear her voice. Never again would someone wait for me at the door eagerly when I go home; I will never get to hear her soft reminder every dinner time for me to eat more vegetable; nor will I get to see her wobble from her room, reach into her pocket and hand me a red packet during Chinese New Year.

But we humans are a resilient lot. We grieve, but we rise up against the sadness and we continue living. When I look back at my pictures, I categorise it to "Pre-Grandma's Passing" and "Post-Grandma's passing". While she has only been gone for a bit more than a year, it felt like we have all aged a decade. Not just physically, but mentally, a bit of us is gone.. But we may have learnt something.

From this experience, I have learnt that it is so important to cherish my family. Nowadays, when I think about my parents, I give them a call right away - because I don't want to miss out on anything. Occasionally, I still slip back to my old habits, but my grandma's kind smile in my mind is the best reminder I need to pick up my slack.

So, if you love someone, be it your parents, your grandparents, or just a special someone, tell them right now that you love them. Don't live with a regret :)

I thought it would be easy to write this post... but right now I am just a heap of tears and snot. Kind of regret sharing this story now, but I really hope that with my limited power I can inspire someone to call their loved ones today. Sorry this post is a bit of a downer. I promise something more uplifting in my next post! 

GRATEFUL HEART: HOW I GOT YELLED AT BUT AVOIDED A NASTY ACCIDENT

What would be your first reaction when a stranger reprimands you? Wait, before that, what would you do if you are waiting at a set of traffic lights and a stranger taps on your car window? Would you:

1. Think he is a window washer and sent him on his way?
2. Lock your door immediately and stare straight ahead?
3. Unwind the window the see what does he require?

On this particular day, I went with option three. The burly tradie (tradesman.. or construction worker for the non-Aussies)  stood there, fluroscent jumper, worker boots and all, hand-on-waist and very surly.

Uh oh. Not good.

I wished I could drive off, leaving a trail of tyre smoke behind like in the movies leaving this stranger behind. But I was stuck behind the lights so there was nowhere for me to hide. Before I could greet this stranger, he flew off the handle and started yelling at me for sitting in the wrong lane, how the lane I was sitting in is for a right turn, not straight. He also mentioned angrily that he nearly crashed into my car once and how he saw me sitting in the right-turn lane a few times, only to turn straight.

Now, this was one of those crazy weird junctions that Australia, or Victoria has that is mega confusing. But there was a signboard that say “xxx Highway. RIGHT LANE only”. So in my mind I assumed that the sign meant drivers on the left lane could only go straight ahead and forbidden to turn right. On the other hand, drivers on the right lane could either turn right or go straight ahead. I have also seen many drivers who have done the same thing that I did. So, I could defend myself, if wanted to.

Yet, maybe because it was a Monday morning and my brain was not functioning yet, I just sat there and let him blew off his steam. After he finished, I just said “thanks!” and he stomped back to his car.

When it was time for me to go, I followed the tradie’s advise and went the way that the lane was supposed to lead to (which runs parallel to my normal route). But before I turned into a sidelane to take me back to my usual route, I accelerated just enough to throw the tradie’s ute behind and, maybe, just a slight chance, I did leave him a trail of tyre smoke to show him my anger and being told off for doing something everyone else had done.

All the way to work, I was fuming and defensive of my choice. I could not believe my Monday morning was ruined like that. Moreover, I was ten minutes late because I had to re-route back to the road I usually take to work. Add that with back to school traffic and I was more than displeased at having the start of my week being disrupted.

Just as I was hatin’ on the tradie and thinking back about the morning’s episode, it suddenly struck me: Had he not warned me about sitting in the lane that was supposed to turn right, I would’ve gone straight ahead as I have done for months and crashed into the car on the left lane that, for some inexplicably reason, turned right.

So, while I got a stern telling-off from a random stranger. I did avoid a nasty accident thanks to the tradie. Even though he was loud and rough on the edge, he did mean well to let me know what I was doing could lead to an accident. For that, I am very grateful for the slightly rough start to the morning.

I still remain convinced that the road rules on that junction is vague, but this morning, I dutifully sat on the “correct” lane as described by the tradie.

Note: This is one of the more difficult post for me to write. Admitting my own weakness has never been easy, but I feel it is also more important to be open about it. Emily from Ember Grey inspired me to find things in life to be grateful for. So, here it is :)

DAILY MUSINGS: THE ACCORDIAN PLAYER

A short drive away from where I work lies two rows of shops where the bank, post office and chemist are housed. The tree-lined shopfronts and beautiful blooms in spring all show the quaint little town that it is, despite the urban sprawling that has brought in new money to match the McMansions.

Every morning I visit the bank and the post office on the main street. I walk past the newsagent that sells stationery too, but more expensive than the big supermarkets; The milkbar where we used to get sandwiches for staff lunches (but not anymore); the café where the morning joggers unwind, then the bank. I punch a few buttons on the express deposit machine, drop off money, the machine prints a receipt, and the transaction is complete. Easy, quick, mechanical, monotonous, soulless.. It was the same routine, day after day. During that 10-15 minutes trip out of the office, my mind is always elsewhere or not anywhere.

One day, I stepped out of my car and heard La Vie En Rose to the sound of accordion. I traced the music and saw an elderly gentlemen busking in front of the bank. I slowed down my footsteps to enjoy the rich, reedy sounds from the instrument and even hummed along to the tune. When I walk past him, he played a trill that sounded beautiful, but an unexpected addition to the Edith Piaf classic. The disruption made me look up and I saw an elderly gentleman with snowy white hair, olive skin and kind eyes. He smiled and at me and said: “ni hao!” (“How are you?” in Mandarin) I smiled at him, amused at his attempt to speak my mother tongue. I did not want to interrupt his music, so I gave a little curtsey, and went on my way.

The following week, he was there again. I was glad to have the music to accompany my monotonous routine. This time, he played the start of a Chinese folk song just as I walked past. Week after week, Grandpa Accordian became the soundtrack to my routine. Occasionally, he would sing in Italian. Sometimes it was a trill. Once or twice, he tried out a few phrases in Mandarin that was incomprehensible, but I smiled and nodded at him nevertheless. But rain or shine, he was there every Thursday ready with happy tunes for everyone.

Then one day, he wasn’t there anymore.

As the holiday season approached, people’s footsteps became more frantic. The bank’s sidewalk where Grandpa Accordion used to busk was replaced by people sorting out their financial affairs. I felt forlorn at his absence. I miss the joyful tunes and his old world charm. I sincerely hope that he took short leave from his stint to be in the company of his children and grandchildren. Yet in the back of my mind, a small voice reminded me that.. god forbids… but he may have been struck down by sickness, or his mind and body has simply gave away to the cruel yet ever present death.

..... 

Today, I parked my car and went along my daily routine. My daily trip has become so monotonous that my brain was on autopilot, until I heard the unmistakable sound of accordion and the velvety, mellow voice:

Quand il me prend dans ses 
bras Il me parle tout bas, 
Je vois la vie en rose. 

Grandpa Accordian is back! I slowed down my steps. Today, he asked me have I have eaten, in Mandarin, to which I replied: “Welcome back!”

I still don’t know his name, but I felt like I just met an old friend after long time. My encounter with Grandpa Accordion made me realise that music transcends age, culture and language barrier. In this day where terror and religious hatred are abound, I wonder.. maybe music is answer to break down the fear and make us embrace one another as brothers and sisters.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Growing up in a traditional Malaysian-Chinese family, Christmas is just another public holiday for me. Since I met Mr.S, Christmas has taken on another meaning - it is a time for family and friends to take some time out of work, get-together, feast and exchange gifts. While I've always dreamt of a white Christmas, I can bet you nothing beats an Aussie Christmas: the warm sunshine on your skin, sumptuous barbecue and a few bevvies (beer, wine, soda, anything goes!) just makes it so much easier to feel that your weird Uncle Bill might be turning a new leaf. No bulky Christmas jumper here, but T-shirt, shorts and pretty summer dresses.

Of course, getting to watch the clock ticks over the Christmas just made this year extra special. We have never been big on surprise gifts, but this year we decided to go out and get each other a gift within $50. So it was a very exciting Christmas eve for me, wondering what he would've gotten me as a Christmas gift...and boy did he know me well: A Pandora charm to add to the bracelet my parents gifted me.

In fact, I received another Pandora charm from my Secret Santa this year. Sparkly things make for a very happy Sam!

However, all the bracelet charms in the world cannot beat the feeling of receiving a new laptop. Yes, after much deliberation (6+ months to be exact) I finally replaced my 4.5 year-old Macbook Pro with the latest top-of-the-line Macbook Air! The Boxing Day discount, the $200 gift card I received as a work bonus plus Mr.S' generous contribution as a birthday and Valentines Day gift made for a very affordable Macbook. In fact, I am blogging from it right this moment - Love the crisp screen resolution and lightning fast speed! Finally, no more getting static shock while charging my laptop.

I am very grateful for these fabulous gifts and the wonderful feast that I got to enjoy. In fact, I am very grateful for all that I have and I treasure them all. Now, after a massive two days, I am off at home to enjoy the solitude. I am filled with inspiration and cannot wait to share some of the stuff I have been doing with you all!

LOVE LETTER MONDAY: WHISPERING IN THE DARK

Ilove how we can be completely comfortable around each other, and at times, be a little child-like. Last night was the dreaded Sunday night (because it meant Monday was only one shut-eyes away). Like the sensible adults, we turned off our lights and tried to sleep. But we just couldn't let go of the weekend. In a desperate attempt to spend the last moment of togetherness before our work, exhaustion and the hustle bustle of life distract our attention from each other, we kept on talking, whispering and laughing in the dark way past our bedtime. It was just like what all kids used to do when the best friend slept over, except it was with you, the man I love, whom I've been with for the past five years. And that is just one of the many reasons I love you.

WHEN AUNT FLO COMES TO TOWN

I know this might sound disgusting, but hey, we're all women here, right? So, I finally got my period after a long delay, and as you might've guessed, it was like a massacre. Don't even get my started on the cramps. However, I soldiered on and went to work as usual. Then came the time to change my pad. I reached into my bag for the pad before realising that I was wearing a pencil skirt with no pockets to hide the sanitary pad.

It's worth noting that 80% of my colleagues are men and the toilet is at the other end of the office. Oh, I work in an open-plan office too. So I tried tucking the pad in my skirt, but the bright purple packaging was still peeping through my skirt's waistline. The pad also created an odd bump on my tummy. So I frantically searched in my tote and finally came up with a solution:

Hurray for messy bag!

I found a paper bag from my last visit to the chemist and used that pack my pad, then dashed to the toilet to change the pad. Mission completed!

But, the point is: How dodgy did that look? Now that I think back about it, what if someone noticed and thought it was a pregnancy test stick in the bag?!

If only there are some cute/ fashionable looking pouches that will help eliminate the embarrassment...

Do you have any Aunt Flo moment stories to share?

25

My 4th birthday. What an annoying kid. 

I will always remember my fourth birthday. I felt like a princess with a new, frilly headband, a new dress and possibly my first flower. My aunt took me shopping and bought me a birthday present (she was recovering from a mastectomy, I think). My mum took me to the bakery and got me the most beautiful cake. We were a crowd in the little HDB flat in Singapore, but I felt like a million dollars. 

It all seemed like yesterday. 

Today, I turn 25. During my years on earth, I have learned from my father and recently, the Dalai Lama, that birthday is a time for reflection. It is a time to be grateful for those who are with us, think about those who cannot be with us, and reflect on our actions. Above all, we should be especially grateful to our mother who took a trip to hell and back to bring us into this world. We came to this world as a vulnerable infant, incapable of surviving on our own. Our first benefactors are our parents: our mother who fed us and washed us; Our father who clothed us and put a shelter over our head. They are also our first role models from whom we imitate and form our character. 

So, for those things and more, I would like to thank my parents for not aborting me, not flushing me down the toilet, not selling me to kalang guni (rubbish collector), for not throwing me out of the house during those rebellious years. Mostly, I am grateful to my parents for being strict, but responsible and great parents. Thanks for sharing all the knowledge and wisdom and for indulging in my love for food (p.s. I really need the recipe for last night's ter ka chou - pork trotter and sweet vinegar and ginger stew. I am so hungry just thinking about it) 

To my siblings, Michelle and Nicholas, you guys were my first frenemies. I had a love/hate relationship with my sister, but I am glad we survived the "hate" part and now enjoy all the benefits that come with the special bond of sisterhood. Thanks for being my housemate in Melbourne and preventing me from walking into people and things, or being run down by cars and trams every time when we are out. Sorry for all the times I pinched you when we were kids :)

My cousins are my first friends. We have so many beautiful childhood memories together. While we might be miles apart, every time we meet it's as if those times apart melted away. Each and everyone of my cousins are funny and unique in their own way. Through the bond of blood, we are comfortable in sharing with each other some of the skeletons in the family's closet...and the things we are embarrassed to tell our friends about. The distance factor also means we are close enough to share with each other our secret and be assured that those secrets will not get to our parents. Unless you accidentally divulge the secret in my dad's presence, in that case, GG. My dad is the known King of Gossip in the family. 

To old friends and new, thank you for all the experiences and beautiful memories. Many "firsts" were had with you guys and I am so grateful for you guys for helping me out in one way or another, or just providing words of support when I need it the most. Thanks for Facebook "likes" when I am feeling insecure, the letters, emails, messages and phone calls. My life is richer with your presence.

For my teachers in school, thank you for nurturing my mind and assisted in moulding me into a functional human being. To think about it, we spend our most formative years in school. Without our teachers who throw us in different situation and letting us learn the concept of authority, we would all run wild or unable to function in society. Thanks for all the knowledge, but more than that, providing me with problem-solving and leadership skills. 

To my colleagues, thank you for making settling into a new environment easier. Workplace is a more complex version of school, where "classmates" are known as colleagues. We spend a large part of our day at work and it is so important to be able to enjoy what we do. So, I am very thankful to my colleagues who taught me all I needed to settle in my new workplace, for all the laughs, lunches, and for continuing to be supportive. 

Our heart is so big, yet so fragile. We give our heart to the people whom we are attracted to, but some stay and made our heart even bigger, some leave, breaking our heart. For every love and heartbreak, I grew and learn more on how to be a companion, the other half. This other half business is not easy, I tell you. It means having to compromise at times and accept each other's flaws, something that I never had to...because my parents did the compromising. But,  when it's done correctly, the companionship can be so rewarding. So, thank you to Steven for accompanying and tolerating me, flaws and all...and to all past loves, thank you for the laughter and tears. 

To those who harbour a dislike for me, thanks for that as well. Thanks for prying on my vulnerability and my compulsive need to be liked my everyone. But I have learned to understand that not everyone can get along. Maybe there is something wrong with you, maybe me. But I'm sure it's you. Nevertheless, you always keep me on my toes and make me work harder to make sure I am better than you in every way possible. So, you can go fuck yourself and put your head up your ass. Go suck a dick while you are at it too. 

Finally, thanks for reading up until this point. You guys are great! Thanks for making my past 24 years a blast. Hopefully I will continue to thrive in my 25th year on earth. 

Happy New Year: Home is Where The Heart Is

Happy New Year to all! Hope your new year's eve was special and filled with merriment. Mine was filled with food and company, sheltered from the harsh weather and damage of war or the terror of politicians with biased interest. For that, I am truly grateful.

While my brain is still a little fuzzy and woozy from last night's food and company, I cannot help but notice that back in my homeland, many were not enjoying the transition into a new year.

Amidst displays of fireworks and a sea of "Happy New Year!" messages on Facebook was a newslink that caught my attention:

Back in my homeland at the iconic Independence Square, which was also a key new year's eve festive site, there was a massive rally against the government's announcement of price hike. As a result, celebrations and the new year's eve concert were halted. In Malaysia, the mainstream media is controlled by the ruling government and the screenshot above was a Facebook post from the so-called "independent" media. Both news outlet have provided different versions of accounts, with the independent media outlet even calling the price hikes "austerity measures".

As a Malaysian living abroad, I hold very fond memories of my home country and it breaks my heart to see Malaysians and its government stand so divided. There has been so many times where I have contemplated on packing my bags and return home. If Australia, a foreign country, its people and its authorities with their blond hair and blue eyes can treat me like one of their own and help me out when I am in need, surely I can contribute more to the economy of my own country. 

Yet, I am so disheartened after reading what happened in Kuala Lumpur yesterday. There is no doubt that the government has said and done silly things - but which government hasn't? Price increase and austerity measures are happening on a global scale, so are protests against those measures.  But, if other countries can show some kindness and compassion in times like this, why couldn't the law enforcers, the event organisers and the protestors in Kuala Lumpur put down their defences and stand on the same team to rein in the new year? Afterall, it is the lawmakers and the politicians who are at blame for their policies. 

We Are On The Same Team...

Moreover, it is time for the people to be more vigilant and analyse what we read on the newspaper. Mainstream or independent, the media has always been an outlet for those in power to brainwash, terrorise and spread their propaganda... government or opposition. Perhaps it is also time to compare Malaysia to other countries and realise that we are not the only ones

I am not a red-blooded patriot, but I do remember my home country as a peaceful nation, a perfect balance of culture and cosmopolitan. While Bosnia and Middle East were at war; while Japan and Taiwan suffered the wrath of nature, I was always grateful that Malaysia was untouchable by mother nature's fury and our lawmakers were keeping us safe. I am proud that I received a balanced education, leading me to be able to converse and write fluently in three languages, English and Mandarin being two of them - hence opening the doors to many international opportunities. 

So, to read what happened in the news was heartbreaking for me, and I worry for what's to come. With the government touting 2014 as "Visit Malaysia Year", I fear that more news as such (and security/ safety issues) may lose us millions of tourism dollars, putting the national economy in further deficit. This may add to the list of excuses  reasons that the government may use to propose another tax hike. 

For what its worth, may the new year make all world leaders and head of nations a little more wiser, a little less selfish, for the sake of us all.  

News Source: 

1. Malaysiakini

2. The Star

Big Rocks Little Rocks

As the year comes to an end, it is time for a quiet reflection on what has happened in the year, and what we can do better next year. For me, I am grateful for all the wonderful times and the trying times that I encountered this year. While it has been a smooth sail for me for most of the year, the past couple of months were very trying, as I lost my grandma whom I hold dead and close to my heart. As always, the loss of our loved ones makes us reflect and gives us a reality check on the priorities in our lives.

While we spend the final day of the year in revel, I'd like to share with you something I've learned from a personal development course I've attended last year. It is the Big Rocks chapter of Stephen Covey's Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. We all have rocks in our lives, the things that keep us grounded, such as our family, our life partner/ companion, our hobbies and our passion. Then, we have the little gravels, the chores, such as: paying the bills, picking up the little ones from school, taxes, groceries, our job (depending on what you are doing, I suppose). The gravel is endless, but necessary to keep us surviving. If you fill up a jar with all the gravel first, you will never be able to fit in all the rocks. The jar will overflow and the rocks will tumble. But, if you set the foundation and put all the rocks in the jar first, then pour the gravel to fill up the gaps between the rocks, you will find that everything fits neatly, and perhaps you may even have some space left for some water.

I'm not a master in reiterating concepts, but I hope you get the gist of the story after all my rambling. The point is, if you don't prioritise the big rocks first, you will never be able to get any in.

Reflecting on that, I regret to say that I'm guilty of neglecting a couple of rocks in my life.

My Family

My family is a big rock in my life. However, I did not take good enough care of them. The older I get, the more I understand the importance of family. These people shaped my values and moulded my character. They are pieces of me and together I am whole. Living abroad, I feel like I am a falling leave floating in the air searching for a place to rest. But when I am home with my family, everything feels right. The Chinese has a saying that roughly translates to fallen leaves returning to its roots. I suppose that is how I feel. Sadly, there is now a chip in the rock with the recent passing of my grandmother. It is an emptiness and void in my heart and life that can never be fulfilled again.

My Partner

After four years in a fantastic relationship, this man is my motivation to keep going on. I know he has my back all the time. Dependable, loyal and generous, he is a solid rock in my life. Yet, at times I've taken this beautiful relationship for granted, causing lots of frustration. For that, I am sorry.

However, it's not all negative. This year, I cultivated new hobbies and rekindled old passion (as in an old pastime, not an old lover) that soothes and calms me:

Knitting

I started knitting in September and completed a couple of projects since. I believe I have started more than just a winter project, but a lifelong hobby. This new hobby also helped me form a new friendship with a fellow craft and knitting enthusiast (you know who you are!)

Piano

I don't profess to be a great pianist, but I played piano for 15 years before I stopped for 5 years. This year, with a more stable income, I purchased a keyboard that has brought my much joy. I've been recording tracks, fiddling with midi and Garage Band since. Check out the Piano Lounge section of the blog!

Experiences

I told myself that this year I will visit new places and do new things, or even to indulge a little. I spent less on clothes and shoes. Instead, I use the money towards gaining experiences. I had one of the best time of my life this year watching Beyonce live in Melbourne back in October. Then, I visited the Royal Botanical Garden in Melbourne (because I said I would visit it for years, but never did) and spent a lovely weekend at Daylesford with my partner (blog post to come soon). I also had my first manicure and pedicure! These experiences reinvigorates my senses and refreshes my mind.

This blog post can go on and on about my year in retrospect, but I will stop here. The point is, everything happens for a reason. Even at new year's eve, I am still going through some personal struggles and still trying to lift myself from grieving. But, I look forward to the new year with a whole lot of gusto. I don't have any new year's resolution, except to take better care of the rocks in my life. I don't have any bucket list or 2014 to-do list. Everything will take its course.

If it helps, here is a video of Stephen Covey illustrating the 7 Big Rocks concept. Happy New Year!

I'm terrible in dealing with grief. I tried to keep calm upon hearing the news that my grandma will be leaving us soon. But as soon as I walked back to my room, I collapsed in bed. Though my partner was by my side, I wanted to be alone. What is the point of loving and knowing someone when they will leave you eventually?

Suddenly, a huge pain surged from my heart, expanding all the way upwards and outwards. I curled up in a ball and the sound that came out of my mouth was something unrecognisable, it was more like a growl/ cry, it was something from deep within me.

Thankfully, Steve was by my side as I got up from my fetal position and clung on to him tightly for support as though I was a drowning woman clinging on a piece drift wood....and he was exactly my piece of drift wood. I cried and cried. The following moments were a big blur as I tried my best to pull myself together to arrange everything: air tickets, leave for my brother and myself, packing, etc.

I found myself fumbling at even the simplest tasks such as remembering my siblings birth dates and even the arrangement of my names (first name, last name) for the air ticket. But I do remember, I did not give a damn about anyone's opinion of me or the stares I got from others was I walked across the street to the travel agent to get my last minute air tickets, my eyes swollen from crying.

Nothing mattered.

On Living Abroad

Yesterday evening, I received grave news that my grandmother was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit due to blood infection (septic shock) brought on by the infection of a cut on her leg. She was drifting in and out of consciousness. Overnight, her situation turned for the worse and doctors have informed my parents to gather all my grandmother's loved ones in preparation for the worst.

Since receiving the news, I have been filled with sorrow, remorse, guilt, worry and pain. Even at work, I felt that I was looking at everything through an oxygen mask, the sounds of my surrounding was muffled by my grief and emotions. Physically, I was at my office desk, but my mind was far, far away.

In Chinese culture, filial piety triumphs every other virtue. In times like these, I question my decision to live far away from my family: Is the cloudless blue skies, safer climate and better quality of life worth it when it means I might not be able to see my beloved grandmother for the last time? Is being with my boyfriend of four years worth it if it means I am unable to support my mum and dad through this difficult time?

Fortunately, my grandmother is displaying grit and strength in the face of adversity. While the bacteria was invading her lungs and her kidney, her heartbeat was constant and she remained positive. As such, she is currently in a stable condition, though doctor's dare not release her out of the ICU due to the fact that her blood pressure is still low.

Being her granddaughter who has chosen a life across the sea, miles away from her, all I can do is pray for her condition to not worsen, and for her to get through this tough and trying time. If you are reading this, please remember my grandmother in your prayers tonight...

(Girls) We Run The World?

When I was a bright-eyed girl, I wanted to run the world. I remember proclaiming proudly to my father and his friend that I wanted to dominate the world. I did not consider my gender or sexuality to be inferior than that of men, I did not feel that I was the weaker sex.

Listening to the "Girl Power" anthems such as Beyonce's Run The World, and even Icona Pop's I Love It celebrating the empowerment of women, I thought we have come a long way from our mother and grandmother. When I watched Mad Men a few years ago, up until a couple of months ago, I thought the unfair treatment and discrimination of women in the show (and back in the days) were appalling. I was thankful for how far we've come to prove ourselves equal to that of men, and that in today's workplace, our ability outweighs our looks and our sex.

How naive I was.

I had an extremely uncomfortable encounter with a work acquaintance recently, which bordered sexual harassment. Let's call him C, for creeper. C said some really inappropriate things at the water cooler and then shrugged it off with "I hope you don't mind me. This is how I am!" That was followed by unnecessary rubbing and touching of my arms.

As furious as I was, there was nothing I could do immediately. C is not an employee so I could not lodge a formal complain. He was a visitor and I had to extend the courtesy. I felt vulnerable, as opposed to his aggressive and domineering body and verbal language. I was also very embarrassed that such a thing happened to me.

You might think I am being overly dramatic, or maybe putting it in writing makes it seem more dramatic than it is. But for days afterwards, my bruxism came back as I contemplated what to make of this situation, resulting in extremely sore jaw and mild headache. I've also had a couple of restless nights filled with uncomfortable dreams. In the dreams I felt hopeless and powerless. I would wake up with dread, instead of hope. I was also angry that despite having attained a similar education level and busting my arse proving myself to be as good and efficient as anyone, men or women, I still had to endure such offensive actions.

So many questions filled my head: Should I talk to my boss? Was I being overly-sensitive? Will he believe what I have to say? What should I do when I see him next? 

The encounter made me rethink everything about my work - I started keeping a distance from my male colleagues for fear of coming across as too friendly. When they playfully/ gently nudged me like they always do, I flinched and kept a straight face. I also kept a distance from my female colleagues for fear of gossip. I became extremely cautious of my attire and would constantly pull my blazer down to cover my behind.

Finally, I confided in the general manager (one of the guys who are generally empathetic and has two teenage daughters). He was very supportive. He reassured me that he would keep a look out if C is around next time. In the following days, the manager would check in to see if I was alright and assured me that it was C at fault and I had never come across as a flirt.

A week has passed since C the Creeper said those things. I'm feeling much better now, though I'm beginning to question - have we really come that far from where we were 50 years ago? How is it that I am still viewed as a sexual object when I have proved to be equally, if not more diligent and intelligent than some of my male counterparts? In the encounter a week earlier, which I have come to reference it as "the coffee machine incident", C was forward and assertive. His sentences were statements, such as: "Too bad I was taken, or else I would've taken you home. You're a good sort." 

It was offensive and very disrespectful, but I also felt a deep sense of powerlessness in the days following that incident. It brought back memories of the time my father's friend, A, casually rubbed my thigh when I was a pre-pubescent girl (I am not sure if daddy knows about this, but I'm pretty sure dad has severed contact with A). I did not tell anyone about it, for fear of damaging dad's friendship with A, and because it was embarrassing, not to mention, shameful. Plus, A did not do anything more than that. What if I was just being over-sensitive, even though I felt uncomfortable? It will go away, I told myself. You'll forget it when you're older.

Today, C the Creeper was in the building again. The General Manager alerted me of his arrival and I locked myself in my office. C walked past. He looked into my office, smiled and waved at me like nothing happened, and walked across the office, laughing with the new girl, shaking hands with the guys. All the while I sat in my small cubicle office behind the glass doors, listening to humming of the air-conditioner and poking my head out of the door every now and then to check if he was gone.

It's not a big deal. I will get over it.

p.s. Compared to survivors of worse sexual crimes, what I had experienced was nothing. However, I am suddenly aware of their pain and struggle and my thoughts are with them.

Disclaimer: My workplace is an equal opportunity employer and following that incident, they have dealt with it efficiently and ensured that I am well taken care of. For that, I am grateful. However, sometimes things like this simply cannot be foreseen and my internal conflicts are borne out of my cultural upbringing and my own conscience. 

A Trip Down Memory Lane

I had a blog post planned for today, but I happened to fired up my old iPhone 4 so I can use it as my second phone to call home (Malaysia) using an IDD call card. My fiddly fingers started going through all my old messages and photos, which brought back lots of memories and flooded me with rather emotional thoughts. So, please bear with me while I get these thoughts off my chest...

Going through my old messages felt like going through my old diaries. It felt very surreal reading what I said two years ago. There are many people whom I texted back then who were mere acquaintances or professional contacts. Many were just passer-bys in my life whom I had since ceased contact with. So, reading back my texts with them felt especially...weird, in a way.

My trip down the digital memory lane went from being amused to feeling heavy-hearted, as I came across the text messages between myself and a friend from university. Ron was a jovial and laid-back fellow who was one of my first friends in university. We happened to choose the most boring tedious major about Australian politics, which all read like Greek to us because we grew up in Malaysia! So, we compared notes and I helped proofread his assignments and kept each other motivated throughout the boring lectures, discussions, projects, etc. It was good to have a friend around.

Ron and I were not close, but he was a nice enough classmate. On our graduation day, he thanked me for all the help he has received throughout the years. Sadly, that was the last time I spoke to him. Shortly after our graduation, he passed away suddenly. Every now and then, as I go through my old photos, it saddens me that Ron is no longer around. Reading through the text messages made me relived the memories and it grieved me that I cannot tell him: "Hey Ron! Guess what I found on my phone! Remember that time..."

As a passive-aggressive person, so to say, I did not attend Ron's funeral, nor have I contributed to his obituary. As mean as the next sentence will make me sound like, I grieved quietly and quickly, and chose to live my life. This is my reflex and reaction to face a loss. Yet, time does not erase the sadness I feel as I see this photo.

RIP Ron. 

As I walked past my memory of Ron, I remember an unpleasant time in my life. However, I realised how delusional I was. Or rather, what an amateur I was, in terms of managing work relationships. I had a terrible work experience about year ago in direct-selling (I was working in the HQ) and my relationship with my colleagues was strenuous from the beginning. I could not understand why and until now, I put the blame on them being unfriendly and excluded me from the get-go. 

Tonight, my text messages laid the brutal truth in front of me: I was the problem. I did not integrate. I isolated myself from the get-go. As I read back my communication with my ex-colleagues, I thought I was a bitch. No wonder they hated me! I barely replied to my text and when I did, it was mostly "Sorry I missed your call." or one word texts, or declining their offer for coffee/ drinks/ food. Towards the end of my employment there, they barely spoke to me or replied to my text when I tried to be friendly. It was rather clear that I was about to be axed, but I was the only one who did not see it. Noob.

While that was hard to swallow, I must say it wasn't all heavy. I reminisced the good old days on the summer when I only worked for four hours a day and remembering the joy of leaving the office to feel the warm/ sizzling summer air on my skin. It was the smell of freedom! My tone and choice of words was light, my opinions were innocent, carefree, sometimes childish, but fearless, with the whole world under my feet.

I admit to feeling a little forlorn at my youth slipping away and I'm saddened by the people who have moved on (or I've moved on from), but we cannot stop nor turn back time. I'm grateful that the couple of years have made me wiser and less trusting. I'm glad that my work experience have taught me to be more observant and reserved. At the same time, I'm also remembering that while I'm carrying on with life, it is time to call home and tell my parents that I love and care for them.