When dependability is sorely missing....

Final day of 2011, and what a year it's been. Both professionally and personally, I think I've been through a fair bit, both good and bad.

Professionally... well, let's just leave that for another day. It's always a big question mark in that area anyway.

Personally... well.. there's another question mark. I think as I hurtle down my 20s, age is catching up on me. And it's making me think a lot about what I want from a relationship. I feel like I've reached the point where the hormonal urges and the need to be crazily in love is rapidly becoming a thing of the past. Instead, what I truly crave for is stability. Knowing that I can depend on my other half. And every other day, I'm beginning to question if that's what I'm getting from my current relationship.

I feel like I'm dating an unknown force. One minute placid, sometimes the best of weather, but just as quickly, a hurricane could be wrapping around me. And it's so tiring. Can't I just have some nice warm weather for a prolonged period, please?

I think ZW has a terrible habit of making empty promises. Things he says off the top of his head, things he agrees to or promises to do.. but never does. Even simple things like being punctual seem beyond his ability. I don't know. It's tiring, and I come from a family who believes in being punctual. And it irks me to hell.

I just feel so let down recently.... so utterly dissatisfied. Sometimes I think I'm being too clingy and needy, which may be true. But is it really too much to ask for your man to step up to the plate, and not always be absent or distant? He always seems distracted, even when I'm right in front of him. Or he simply chooses not to respond.

I know he's tired. But hell, so am I. I do the same bloody job. I know the hours. I know the pressure. But I'm not absent. I'm not distant. And I'm always there for him when he needs me. I'm not sure I can say the same thing about him.

I feel like a kid with divorced parents. You know how it is. One parent gets main custody, but the other parent is expected to show up once in a while. And I feel like that kid waiting at the doorstop, told that daddy is gonna pick me up on Sunday and we're gonna have a ball of a time! And I've packed carefully and sitting patiently by the door... but daddy never turns up. And maybe the next day, I might get a phone call, oh I'm so sorry but something came up, I promise you, next week ok?

After a while, you get the feeling that he's never gonna show up. And you stop waiting.

It's not that I expect to see him all the time. I get it. We both work in sucky jobs. It's hard to meet, most days you just want to go home and crash. I get it. What really pisses me off is when he says he's gonna show up, and doesn't.

Empty promises. Not much different from fucking lies. And after a while, it's hard to care anymore.

Music's Lingering Effect

Music has always left an indelible mark on me, and certain songs act as markers for key events or periods in my life. So even years after I first heard the song, listening to it again will trigger a flood of memories, feelings - sometimes happy, others, not so much.

Britney Spears will always have a special place in my heart, but probably not for the right reasons. I still recall in Secondary One, in a burst of showmanship, a classmate broke out into "Baby, One More Time." Except, she didn't know the lyrics and instead of "Oh Baby, Baby...", she sang lustily "Oh maiden, maiden..."

Ahh the sweet joy of studying at a cheena school.

Jay Chou is also my childhood sweetheart and Chinese tutor. I would spend hours pouring over his lyrics, trying to decipher the meanings, learning all the words by heart. It was this same love that made me struggle through KTV sessions, blindly attempting to follow the lyrics on the screen. I would always credit Jay Chou and Chinese manga for my amazing Chinese results for the O Levels. A2 for exam and DISTINCTION for oral ok! I know, I think I cheated too. Or showed too much leg to the examiner.

And I also associate certain songs with my relationship with F. We both shared a love for pop music, top 40s and whatnot. It was one of the things we had in common. When we became a couple after 6 months of just friends, the 98 degrees song "why are we still friends" was playing on the radio.

Not a big hit, and terrible cheesy, but it seemed to sum up our feelings at that time.

And when we broke up, I still remember F posting Kelly Clarkson's "Already Gone" on his Facebook wall. The lyrics seemed to describe our relationship, or the end of it, perfectly. That was the same song that finally caused me to cry. When I heard the lyrics "remember when the poison set in", it nearly set me over the edge. For a few months, I couldn't stand to listen to that song. And till this day, I still feel a tinge of sadness hearing the song.

ZW and I do not share the same musical tastes. He's more of a J-pop and classical music type, while I'm still firmly entrenched in pop music.

But with his killer pipes, he once seranaded me with Jacky Cheung's 如果，爱. Of course I fell madly and insanely in love. And that will always be my courtship song.

And during the first few months of our relationship, when things were a blur and I was constantly bogged down by guilt, ZW never pushed me. He just kept trying to lift me out of the gloom that I chose to surround myself with, the guilt that was eating away at me. And that's when I heard Beyonce's "Halo". The soaring choruses, her etheral pipes... made me think just how supportive he was.

Of course, another of her song also comes onto my playlist when I'm frustrated with ZW. While I do not quite face the same issues as in her song "If I Were A Boy", the intention is there. The lack of understanding, the pigheadedness of malehood, the stupidity of the men.

So why this sudden walk down musical memory lane?

Cos I'm facing hell at work, and sometimes, the only thing keeping me going is Demi Lovato's "Skyscraper". Her vocals aren't great, but her backstory is. A former chronic cutter and bulimic, the former Disney teen star checked herself into rehab when she realised her downward spiral. She recorded the song when she was still in rehab. After she recovered, she re-recorded the song, but it didn't have the same haunting feeling to it. And she also went public with her struggles.

And right now, I'm identifying with her pain.



Skies are crying, I am watching
Catching teardrops in my hands
Only silence, as it's ending,
like we never had a chance.
Do you have to, make me feel like there is nothing left of me?

[Chorus]
You can take everything I have
You can break everything I am
Like I'm made of glass
Like I'm made of paper
Go on and try to tear me down
I will be rising from the ground
Like a skyscraper
Like a skyscraper

As the smoke clears I awaken,
and untangle you from me
Would it make you, feel better
to watch me while I bleed?
All my windows, still are broken
But I'm standing on my feet

[Chorus]
You can take everything I have
You can break everything I am
Like I'm made of glass
Like I'm made of paper
Go on and try to tear me down
I will be rising from the ground
Like a skyscraper
Like a skyscraper

[Bridge]
Go run, run, run
I'm gonna stay right here
Watch you disappear, yeah
Go run, run, run
Yeah it's a long way down
But I am closer to the clouds up here

You can take everything I have
You can break everything I am
Like i'm made of glass
Like i'm made of paper,

Go on and try to tear me down
I will be rising from the ground
Like a skyscraper
Like a skyscraper
Like a skyscraper
Like a skyscraper

So I've Been Absent...

Sorry for the long spell of silence. Have been busy with work, life... stuff.

Anyway, I'm currently blogging from the Fairmont Hotel and guess what? I've been doing live reporting on the Singapore F1 night race.

I know - your first thought is probably - what the heck do I know about the F1? And you're not too far off the mark. When I was told of my assignment, my jaw literally dropped and I had to ask for time off to do research. And let me say it was not pretty - literally building up from ground zero.

I never knew such a sexy word as "chicane" existed. And now it's part of my vocabulary.

We've been reporting from the rooftop of Fairmont Hotel, which gives us a stunning view of the Marina Bay street circuit. If you're on my Facebook, you've probably seen shots of the circuit lit up at night. And we get up close to the action, hearing the roar of the engines of cars speeding pass. One word - exhilarating.

Of course, the same roar is not so fun when it comes to reporting live. I have to maintain a smile on my face, remember my lines, try not to wilt under the glare of the bright lights and contend with the overpowering scream of the race cars hurtling 300km/hour.

The first night, I was hit by a bolt of food poisoning just before going on air 4 times in a row. I think that qualifies as one of the worst nights of my life. I couldn't eat and could only force water down, I was pale and sweaty, the roof suddenly seemed very high above ground (and I don't have vertigo) and I had to grit my teeth.

I went home and puked that night. Well, I actually collapsed on my bed. ZW came over to comfort me and when he leaned over for a hug, I hopped up and projectile vomited. Not my best moment. Did I mention diarrhea?

I fell into a feverish stupor and waking up on Saturday morning, I looked like some creature that crawled out of the swamp. Half of me wanted to give up and call it quits, and the other screamed to get up (well, ZW did some screaming to). In the end, I stumbled into the toilet and stood in the shower until I felt better.

And surprisingly, I did. And I must say, it was worth the effort dolling up and standing up to the lights.

Well, it's the big race tomorrow, so fingers crossed that it goes well.

Restoring balance...

Well, the boyfriend and I decided to hang out separately for the evening, and I think that's the balance we've been missing.

See, we're used to seeing each other maybe twice a week, thanks to our hectic work schedules that makes it almost impossible to meet on work nights. Put us together 24/7, where the only escape for some solitude is the toilet, and the tendency for misunderstandings shoots way up.

So tonight, I decided that I didn't want to travel 1.5 hours from Yokote (a tiny town we're camped out at) to Akita (couldn't get hotels there) to see a festival that we'd already caught yesterday. But the boy wanted to go to get in a few more shots before we move on to Sendai for the rest of the vacation.

During his absence, I went for a facial (his treat) that I managed to procure after some vigorous hand wrangling at the beautician who thankfully, spoke 10 words of English (seriously, I counted and I've never been so glad). Our hotel also has an in-house onsen and having developed a real taste for the practice during our last vacation, I spent another blissful hour soaking in scorching water that I fervently believe is good for the body. I feel my soul restored.

Perhaps you would say the separation was long overdue and that I should have thought of it days ago. Thing is, hanging out on my own in Japan is no easy feat. Outside of Tokyo (and frankly even in the capital) no one speaks English, menus and directions are all in Japanese.

I'm basically at the will and whim and fancy of ZW, dependent wholly on him to get us from point A to point B. And if he ain't moving, so aren't I. Which can be frustrating as he may want to linger in a place longer while I want to move on, or vice versa. Alas, such is life. I'm just thankful that for the most part, I've done what I've needed and wanted to do with few complaints from him.

And truth be told, ZW has been an absolute champ in recent days. Stupidly, I lost my beautiful pink camera (either in Aomori or Hirosaki, I can't remember) and was initially terrified of what he would think, as that's the second present from ZW that I've managed to lose (a Burberry pink key pouch was the first).

But instead of berating me, as I fully expected him to do, he wrapped me in a hug and said it was ok, and that it was just a camera. He also accompanied me to Hirosaki AND Aomori, retracing all our steps and even lodged a police report (side note: the policeman was so surprised to learn that we were Singaporean I think he was more interested in finding out about us rather than writing the report).

Sure, ZW eventually nagged and chided me a little, but he didn't lose his temper, nor did he refuse to help me ask around, and for that, I can't help loving him even more.

I thought this vacation would make us all the more loving and tight, that it would be a barrel of laughs and we'd breeze through it. But instead, we met with arguments and heated exchanges, and there were seriously times when I despaired and wondered where this relationship was heading.

But I think I've gained a little more insight into what really makes a good relationship - and that's knowing you can count on your other half for support and help, even when the chips are down and you're not exactly seeing eye-to-eye.

While hugs and kisses, gifts and candlelight dinners are all fine and dandy, true romance is when the sun is beating down, throats parched and legs tired from a futile search, your other half willing takes another step and approaches the next person to inquire about a missing pink camera. <3 <3

Traveling with your loved one 24/7...

... can yield some great memories, but can also severely test the bonds of the relationship.

Being in close quarters with someone all day, and a foreign country no less, can sometimes bring out the worst in people.

Traveling already has its own set of trials, what with catching trains and navigating. But when you put two people with fiery tempers together, things can and do get ugly.

Perhaps due to the rushed nature of this current trip that I'm taking with zw - we were literally working up till the last moment before boarding the plane - things have seemed a little harried and hurried.

I was feeling so exhausted that i slept in the first few days, which to zw, is a cardinal sin as "we didn't pay thousands of dollars to sleep". Fair enough, but he wasn't exactly jumping out of bed at the crack of dawn. The only jumping he does is to roll over to hit the snooze button.

And since i'm unable to speak japanese, i'm once again wholly dependent on him to translate and basically, talk to me or else i'd go stir mad. So if he's in a huff or moody and non-responsive, it can feel awfully lonely, surrounded by voices you can't understand.

Case in point - i got out of bed late today and unable to wait any longer, zw left the hotel first to run some errands. Which was fine as we're in a tiny city that i'm pretty much familiar with.

But as i was rushing to get ready, the cleaning lady turned up and wanted to tidy up the room. i tried explaining that i needed 10 more minutes to be on my way. But she couldn't understand a word of english and we stood in the corridor, gesticulating wildly at each other.

She eventually brought me to the reception and i spent another 10 minutes explaining to the staff who eventually got what i was trying to say.

By then, i was already late meeting zw and was feeling thoroughly harassed. And i just knew he would say something snarky as to my tardiness. True to form, he remarked sarcastically if i had lost my way. Let's just say we spent a very quiet lunch, both left to stew in our own self righteous juices.

I think the one thing i have come to understand is that people don't really change, or it takes a really long time and not everyone has the patience to wait for the change to happen.

The ex promised me that he would be more expressive and let me know what he's thinking instead of expecting me to "just know" - a constant bone of contention. During our 7 years together, we would argue, he would try, we'd be happy for a while and then things would return to status quo.

What i finally understand is that he had 17 years to cultivate such a personality and habit. And 7 years ain't enough to break him of it. Certainly, towards the end, i could see some change. But my patience had run out, we had other issues, and that was that.

In zw's case, he's had over 20 years to cultivate an explosive temper. i know he's been working at it, even before i appeared on the scene. He too has said on many occasions that he's trying to be a better man.

Similarly, i've had 20 years of practice in acting defiantly and cultivating a lashing tongue - the ability to retort even before i've thought things through. Sometimes i succeed in biting my tongue and taking a deep breath. I'm not always successive.

I do believe people can change, just that it takes a really, really long time and the right incentive. Question is - can we be bothered to wait?

A silly little thing called love

Last night, while having a HTHT (that's heart-to-heart talk) with one of my editors circa midnight, said editor turned to me and opined, "there's this void in me, Joanne".

And the way it was said struck such a chord in me. The editor, who's single, was talking about missing out on love. And was still waiting for that special someone.

So really, why do people pursue a career so valiantly, sometimes at the expense of love?

I'm not saying there's no value in a career, I get it, there's a sense of achievement, goal-setting, ambition.

But if there's no one to share it with, is there really a point to all that ambition? What's the point of pumping your fist in the air in victory, but turning around and finding no one there to really congratulate you? Just empty faces and empty claps?

Whenever I have good news, or bad news, I find myself immediately seeking ZW's opinion, or wanting to tell him first.

Be it a promotion, or a fight, or frustration, I want his support, his words, his thoughts, his comfort. And I hope I do the same for him too.

No matter how bad a day has been, there's nothing, nothing in this world, that feels better than being engulfed in a tight embrace, being kissed on the forehead and told everything will be okay.

I feel the relentless climb up the corporate level is only worth it if there's someone to share it with.

Sure, there's family. But the funny thing is, we tend to take family for granted. We always assume that they will be there, even if we don't do anything. We move continents to further our career, spend time apart, sometimes forgetting to talk, all safe in the knowledge that family will always be there. There's often little effort involved.

But a relationship is different. Work at it or you may find yourself out of one. Neglect it too much and it may all be over.

And it's that work that intensifies the bond, and makes it all the more magical, every emotion more powerful.

Anyway, back to the editor, I actually said, we have to find said editor a partner.

And my parting shot? That a relationship makes me want to try harder at work, be more efficient, because I have a motivating force. I want to complete my work on time, get out of the office, and have a life. I want to be a lean, mean machine and cut out the chatter, remove myself from politics and day-to-day frustrations, because there's someone waiting for me and I cannot afford to be idle.

And I'd move heaven and earth to be with him.

The one about the boat....

My life is starting to feel like I'm adrift at sea in a boat I'm not particularly fond of.

The captain is starting to annoy me, the first-mate is starting to annoy me, the boat feels rudderless and moving without any real sense of purpose. It's just moving because it has to.

So why don't I get off? Because I don't see another vehicle in sight.

In the beginning, I imagined myself standing on an island and I had to step off off as I could no longer live there.

Without knowing what to do, I looked to the sea, the sky.. anywhere for a sturdy vehicle to take me somewhere.

So along came this boat and I was like, why not? So I hopped on.

But it's been over 3 years and I'm starting to feel trapped. I gaze out at sea, hoping to find an alternative seacraft... and I see nothing.

I think there are people who have faced a similar situation. Some see another yacht on the horizon, shiny and desirable, but feel like the distance is too far to swim and choose to stay put.

Others may choose to leap into the waters without a boat in sight, and know that they can float on their backs until something comes along.

Me? I don't see a boat in sight, and I'm not particularly good at swimming. And so I find myself frozen in place, unhappy, but in doubts over my ability to survive, or to try something new.

Cowardice and lack of direction is really, really, starting to piss me off.

I used to think that going on holidays was the solution - giving me the time to cool off, recharge and come back reset at zero and ready to deal with the challenges.

But lately, it just feels like I'm escaping and when I do have to return to reality, nothing has changed, and the angst simply builds up.

 

Back to regular programming...

It was a whirlwind 17 days of GE, during which I would collapse on my bed every night out of exhuastion, only to jump up in the morning and hit the ground running again.

I think it was raw adrenaline (and copious amounts of ginseng) that kept me going. Because the moment all the excitement was over, I fell brutally sick.

During those crazy days, I would literally wake up with my mind racing through the things I had to do for the day, trying to remember all that was said the night before and the new issues I had to bring up.

My phone was always beside me, and I would pick up calls on the first ring - never knowing if it was to send me on my next job, or to inform me of last minute changes.

The only time I got to see the boyfriend was in-between jobs, because I needed a place to crash and his house was nearer to my office than mine.

For the campaign period, I was almost always exclusively dipping in the blue pool, although I did do some mingling with the whites and orange.

And it's interesting to see three different political parties at different stages of evolution - the men in white representing perhaps a slightly bygone era, dressed in slightly faded clothing, sitting in old-fashioned saloons and discussing better times.

Then you have the guys in blue - it's taken them some time to polish up, but they most certainly have gotten their act together. Dressed in modern gear and speaking modern day lingo, these guys get the issues, and have hit the ground running with them.

And finally you have the scruffy teens in orange. A hodge-podge of people from all sorts of backgrounds, it is a team held together by the same uniform they wear, and little else. The leaders never really seem in charge, and anyone willing to speak up can make a name for themself.

It's easy to see why the blue party has been able to ascend so quickly. While not markedly different from the current ruling government so as not to create too much discomfort, it also speaks to the growing tide of resentment that seems to be bubbling ever so vigorously these days.

The thing about the current ruling party is that it's not doing a supremely terrible job, perhaps it's getting worn around the ages, but nothing earth-shatteringly bad.

Which is why those parties which chose the rhetoric of demolishing everything the current party has established, and demonising them to the point of religious fervour.. never quite took off. You can't expect the electorate to swing so left so quickly.

As we await the first sitting of Singapore's 12th Parliament, I can only wonder just how much impact those 6 election opposition MPs will make. And further down the road, if they will consolidate and strengthen their position, or will they go the way in 1997, and be cut down to size?

Election fever

It's been a whirlwind... I dunno how many days.

Time seems to have stood still since parliament was dissolved.

Think it's my 12th straight day of working. And not just working, but working insanely long and tiring hours.

I think i'm getting five hours of sleep maybe?

Morning walkabouts, afternoon conferences, evening rallies. I leave the office after midnight and arrive at my assignment at 9.

Some of you know that covering the GE has been a long desire of mind, putting aside holidays and job opportunities.

But damn, it's slowly ripping me apart. Luckily only 3 more days to go.

Jason derulo

Not sure if you guys have heard of him, but he's the guy who sang "in my head".

Fun, clubbish-type of song. That in itself is no great shakes.

But the song never fails to make me smile because it was THE song of the moment when i was in China, during the asean-china youth camp, where i met ZW

Jason derulo

Not sure if you guys have heard of him, but he's the guy who sang "in my head".

Fun, clubbish-type of song. That in itself is great shakes.

But the song never fails to make me smile because it was THE song of the moment when i was in China, during the asean-china youth camp, where i met ZW

I think i'm getting old...

It's been ages since i last visited a club.

With my busted ankle, limited stamina and alcohol-dulled senses, i'm actually blogging.

Hmm.. Think i'm over this whole clubbing thing.

Oh, and i'm getting old.

Inward looking

I can't remember what sparked the conversation, but one balmy night after work, i started talking to this editor.

And somehow, the conversation drifted to moving overseas.

The editor then gave me this sage advice: "a relationship has to be very strong if a couple decides to uproot and move overseas."

"And it's important to have a core group of friends, otherwise, the relationship becomes inward looking, and can crumble."

That statement struck me, simply because ZW has expressed a desire to go overseas.

And really, in all likelihood, i would go with him. Japan, London... Wherever the winds blow us.

Since i have no concrete plans, it's highly likely that i'd not do anything for a while, trying to set up a home in a foreign land.

Would i be able to set up a strong support network too? Or would i become so overly dependent on ZW for human contact that it strangles him?

When we holidayed in Japan, i broke down at one point because i felt so isolated.

Deep into our vacation, ZW was the only person whom i could speak to, converse with, ask questions of. He was my intepreter, my only contact.

And when he chose not to talk to me, or do translation, i felt all alone and isolated.

So the idea of going away for a prolonged period of time, while exciting, is also very, very scary.

Relationships are like rechargeable batteries...

When it's new, everything it touches is super fired up and energised.

And then the battery power starts to fade. If you remember, you quickly plug yourself into a wall socket to get a much needed boost.

Health restored, you're ready to go again.

But sometimes, something major hits and it drains the power so quickly, you're left with nothing to work with. And left wondering what the hell happened.

I'm not sure, but i think i just got hit. And there's no wall socket in sight.

mindfucked

I'm not a fucking mind reader. So don't blame me if my well-meaning intentions do not comply with your non-communicated desires.

This is ridiculous on so many levels.

Mindfucked.

Now the quake gets personal...

I suppose you must have heard that the biggest earthquake to hit Japan struck on Friday afternoon.

I spent the whole day chasing down Singaporeans to interview, and finally got through.

Just when I thought I was done with the situation.. well, the situation just got personal.

My mum and sis are en-route from New York to Japan, before coming back to Singapore.

The last I heard, their flight got delayed, and I'm not sure whether chaos would greet them at Japan. I just hope flights can still get out of Narita.

And now the boyfriend is being sent to the actual disaster site to report.

I'm terrified. The whole newsroom was fixated on the images coming out of Sendai. Entire coasts, homes, vehicles, farmland were wiped out in sheer minutes. The tsunami spread so quickly, some cars became trapped. We saw people run out of their cars and make a dash for it, running somewhere, anywhere, to get away from the black water threatening to overwhelm them.

Aftershocks are expected. And ZW might be walking into them. Hello sleepless nights..

A snippet of what happens when logic meets excitement...

It all started with an article from the New York Times travel section...

me:  http://travel.nytimes.com/2011/03/06/travel/06bahia-bustamante.html?ref=travel

Lin:  Rooms are $215 a night, including three home-cooked meals a day and all the malbec you can throw back.

wow

if that isnt ex i dunno what is...

me:  but but but... it's 400 guests allowed in a year!!!

it's all the wildlife nature up close and personal

Lin:  yes yes

it does seem very good

(.. some discussion..)

Lin:  if i were to go, i would stay at least a week

and buy at least one expensive telephoto lens to bring along

a trip like this would cost me at least 5k sgd

me:  yessss but wouldn't it be totally worth it???

that's like a trip of a lifetime!

Lin:  there are many "trips of a lifetime"

me:  ostriches!!!  penguins!!!

Lin:  italy for me was a trip of a lifetime

me:  especially penguins!!!

!!!!!!!!!

Lin:  japan was a trip of a lifetime

you take the bait too easily baby

you're the advertiser's dream

me:  .... you just deflated all my exclamation marks

now i feel empty

Lin:  haha just want you to get real

there's no such thing as trip of a lifetime

unless you intend to die after your last trip

me:  why can't i have multiple trips of a lifetime??

every trip should be memorable!

Lin:  because then the phrase wont have any meaning

what does trips of a lifetime mean??

me:  it means i've had a good life

so there

Lin:  ...

New project

So…. I’ve started a new blog. Borne out of a need to do something new, a secret desire to a be travel writer, and an appreciation for ZW’s photos.

I’ve created a travel blog. Still trying to get the tone right. It’s a cross between travel writing and travel information.

Whenever I travel, I do get requests from friends asking about accommodation and things to do. So here it is!

Let me know if you have any thoughts! All comments appreciated!

It’s called He Shoots, She Writes. For obvious reasons.

There are only 2 posts so far… but I’m getting there!

Spending Time With The Girls

It’s always a challenge finding time to meet up with my friends. If I’m not working, I’m usually passed out on my bed. If I’m lucky, I get to squeeze in time with my honey bunny.

Just the other day, we both realised that the honeymoon period is pretty much over and the starry-eyed lovers ain’t so starry-eyed anymore.

Cute quirks have been replaced by annoyances, tempers are a little more frayed, and arguments are a lot more frequent then necessarily.

We both agreed that we spend so little time together that it’s almost like we have to reestablish a connection each time we meet.

Guess what people, we are no longer just giggly lovers. We’re – dare I say it – in a relationship. Oh help us both.

Anyway, that aside, I was talking about meeting up with the girls.

First up – celebrating Sylvia’s birthday! Shawn was upset that we didn’t wait for him… but it’s very difficult coordinating 4 people’s schedules, ok?

We gave Sylvia something cute and cuddly to hug at night. Just what every girl needs. :)

Meet meh-meh!

Disgustingly good chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream

Meh-meh and chicken in a basket.

What? Cannot act cute issit?

Happy birthday girl!

Next up… meet the volleyball girls. I can’t believe it’s been more than a year since I last saw them. It’s amazing how we can go from seeing someone 3 times a week for 3 years… to not seeing the person for a year.

We’ve all aged a little – a little more jaded, a little more tired, but still a whole lotta bitchy. HAHA!

Meet: The special education teacher, the normal teacher, the reporter, the finance analyst, the banker

For some strange reason, the flash on my camera only lit up half the picture. Damn lighting in IndoChine.

Say cheese!

A Tale Of Two Differences

Attraction can sure be a funny thing. There's really little basis for it - all that talk about commonalities and whatnot.. I'm more inclined to believe the whole "opposites attract" theory.

Just look at ZW and I.

I email him fruity articles about love and attraction. He emails me stuff from the Economist about property markets.

When we browse at magazines stands, he heads for the current affairs and photography section. I'm permanently parked in the entertainment and fashion portion.

As he describes his passion for the Discovery channel, I'm nodding and flicking over to E! Entertainment.

I have this mental image of us sitting on a couch in some distant future, and he's reading the Financial Times (which he says he loves) and I'm flipping People magazine.

I think the reason why this somehow still manages to work is that we don't try to change who the other person is. Sure, there are differences that annoy and grate on one another. Things that can end in shouting matches or angry words being exchange. (I swear he's the only person who can sound annoyed saying "Baby!")

But at the end of the day, we are who we are (shit, did I just quote Ke$ha? Or as Principal Figgins from Glee would call her, "Ke-dollar sign-ha")

Some people go into relationships thinking you can mold the other person into this ideal personality, or that something you dislike can be changed over time.

If I've learnt anything, it's that people don't change that much. Just that love can make you want to compromise on certain points, slow that sharp tongue and think before yelling.

And another thing I love about ZW - he said he doesn't believe in compromise, 'cos that means giving up something about yourself. Rather, a relationship is about understanding and seeing the other person's point of view, instead of just caving in for the sake of harmony.

<3<3<3

Random photos of us

Thought it'd be nice to put up some photos that are either too random, or too few to make it to facebook.

Ever since ZW bought me a camera, I've been snapping a lot more pictures, but never know what to do with them.

Hey, what's a camera for, right?


When Cheryl was back in Singapore


Our Christmas stay Wanderlust


Cam-whoring in the glass lift


Dinner at the hotel's restaurant, Cocette. Fabulous food. Stuffed ourselves silly


Christmas day lunch with the family

I'm Stuck In A Rut

At work, in life... just stuck.

It's like being in limbo - there's no sense of movement, just a floating sensation that time is passing me by, but nothing concrete is happening.

It gets worse.. I'm not even sure what's a viable alternative. Seriously, I think I'm in a sucky position, but what's a better option?

Sometimes I wonder how I got here. I had a defined path, I was actively pursuing it.. and then the winds blew me here. And I've been here for 3 years, and still not sure what I'm doing.

And that's really the story of my life. I see the pattern repeated over and over again. Just when I put my mind down and decide on a course of action, after I've made peace with it... the winds of fate blow me completely off course.

So am I waiting for the next gust of wind? Have the heavens grown bored of me? Am I finally left to my own devices?

Yes, I'm in a rather dramatic mood at this hour.

In other, completely unrelated news... I met a mutual friend of F and mine today. We starting chit chatting and I know he meant no harm..

He mentioned that F told him bits and pieces of how things ended, and he said I cheated on him.

Cheated. Such an ugly word.

But I guess it was simply calling a spade a spade.

I don't regret my decision, I really don't.

Perhaps the only thing I do possibly regret is that I started something when I was still in a relationship.

But hey, the best advice I received, strangely enough, came from F.

He said the heart is seldom wrong.

The Pursuit of Patience

The more I stay in this job, the shorter my patience is. Seriously.

When deadlines are counted not in weeks, not days, but in HOURS... every second becomes important.

Every decision starts taking on consequences - do I eat lunch to power through the day, but it's 1.30pm and 2pm requires a few lines... you get the point.

And because time is so tight, I have no patience for long chats.

The brutal nature of broadcast is that you spend very little time actually talking to your interviewee, trying to get to the bottom of things. Because ultimately, that 30 minute interview is going to turn up as a 20-second soundbite.

And so, sadly, I'm starting to apply that to my life. I find myself increasingly cutting people off mid-sentence.

Like my brain is on auto-mode, and if my brain assesses that your sentence is going nowhere, I jump in with questions. If you start rattling, I get impatient and try to divert the conversation to something more interesting. Skip the soliloquies please, and just get to the point.

ZW hates that. I can't entirely blame him. He thinks I'm not listening. He's wrong - I'm just selectively listening.

Shit, I have the attention span of a cockel spaniel.

I got on the weighing scale today...

And got the shock of my life.

I've put on so much weight since i got together with ZW.

Happiness is making me fat.

I've always been curvy, but hopefully in a sexy way.

This development, however, is.... Disturbing.

Argh.

Polygamy...

At work people, at work. In life, I'm monogamous, ok?

Being a bi (tri?) platform reporter is sucking the life blood out of me.

While we're expected to be like Mormon, polygamous men and treat all wives equally - attention, love, sex, money - I'm starting to feel more like a Chinese rich lord in ancient times - by taking on a new wife, I've neglected the old one.

What can I say - the new always looks brighter, shinier, more appealing. The old is familiar, comforting, but ultimately, tired.

So what's a girl to do?

The morning after

I realise that my worst sides are exposed when i'm in a semi-drunken haze - selfish, insecure and petty. Case in point: last night's rant.

So in the harsh glare of the morning after's cold sobriety, i realise just how unfair i've been to Fadz.

Post-breakup, i've villianised him and victimised myself. And for what - to make myself feel better, to ease my conscience?

If i'm being honest, i was probably stung by how easily he walked away. That he was able to get over our 8-year relationship in a few months, and was able to fall in love again shortly after.

I never did give him credit for the dignified way he conducted himself. If he had refused to give up, or kept calling me, i don't think my relationship with ZW would have taken off.

In all likelihood, i probably would have been eaten alive by guilt and indecision and would have ended things with ZW.

Instead, fadz made the decision that i couldn't - he walked away and never looked back. In those crazy weeks following china, i was a mess. At one point, i even suggested that we just date, me and the two guys, till i worked out how i really felt.

Stupid. I'm just glad neither agreed to that awful proposition.

But ya, i wonder what would have happened if fadz had really attempted to hold me back, to put another plaster over our fractured relationship. Would i have relented?

The logical fadz i know and loved made the right decision ultimately - he saw the bigger picture. He knew that he was unable or couldn't love me the way i needed to be loved.

And ironically, he was the one who opened up my eyes to what it means to be loved, and what i deserved. And when we had both hurt each other and lost trust and faith in our relationship, it was no longer viable.

So rather than dwell on what it could have been and what i had lost, i shall instead, cherish and celebrate what we had.

Fadz will always be my first love, the first guy who made me realise that i'm deserving and capable of great love. I will remember how he didn't eat for a whole week to save his allowance to buy me a necklace (which i broke when i accidentally left it in my uniform that ended up in the washer). How he surprised me one birthday by turning up at midnight, homemade cake in hand. The endless hours of guitar hero, the shared passion for music. He also taught me how to appreciate football. So many happy memories.

So that's why i know i'd found something special when i met ZW. He reawakened all those suppressed feelings. I didn't realise that i was compromising myself, ignoring my needs and wants, and living out my days on a hope and prayer, living on past memories when the actual spark had died out.

So while i wish fadz all the best, i don't think i'm ready to revisit any sort of interaction with him. It simply brings up too much angst, too much nolstagia, and it's not healthy.

For now at least, i'm concentrating on building my current relationship. :)

It's the new year!!

And I spent it in the most awesome manner... not working and in the company of my loved ones.

If today is any indication of the year ahead, I'm a happy girl.

There's nothing like waking up next to your loved one and rolling over for a big hug, spending a stormy afternoon baking in the kitchen while rocking out to great music, before settling down to a gut-busting sukiyaki dinner with the family.

Would have been the perfect day as I winded down in the evening with some good ol' travel research (yup, love the stuff).....

Until I opened FB and received a friend request from the ex. Huh. Left me speechless for a couple of minutes.

He spoke about new beginnings and stuff and left the ball in my court, i.e. it's up to me to add him. Or not. Not sure if he really wants me as a friend, wants to believe that everything is cool between us so that his conscience is clear before he proposes to his new girlfriend (haha!), or what.

Never was quite sure of what he was thinking of before, even less sure now.

So rather than speculate what he thinks.. here's what I think. I think it's weird. I know Alan and Li Wern said never say never and all that. That we are all adults and it's all in the past and we should shake hands and move on.

But my FB is a highly personal medium. I post a lot of inappropriate things on it, I add personal pictures and my life is quite an open, visual book.

To have the ex privy to that again is... weird. Similarly, do I want access to his life, to possible updates and pictures of his new relationship?

Sure, I know he reads my blog (or at least he did post-breakup) and I'm highly personal here too.

But that's HIS choice. He chooses to read my thoughts. If we're friends on FB, we're FORCED by the sheer nature of FB to see each other's updates, like a tiny prick on our conscious. And if I configured it such that I don't receive updates on him, then I might as well not add him, right?

Fadz will always be a part of me and I cherish certain memories of us together. There will always be certain triggers that evokes a memory that will bring a smile to my face, both bittersweet or otherwise.

But that's all the reminder I need of a life I once had.

I know some exes can be friends, but I'm not one of those people. How do you do it, anyway?

Maybe, maybe in the future, it might be possible. After all, we did make pretty good friends. Heck, we shared so many common interests, which might explain how we fell into a relationship.

But for now at least, it's simply... too weird.