The Rain

Grey skies, storm's a-coming.
Oh sunny days, where you have you gone?
Here comes the rain,
I look and sigh.

Oh sunny days, where have you gone?
Now all I feel, are the lashings of the rain.
It burns, there's nowhere to run.
You consume me,
I feel so cold.

Baby Steps

So I've been a missus officially for almost a month, and the most common question I'm asked is, "how's married life?"

Not very different, honestly.

Sure, the mister has moved in and my space has effectively been cut in half.

I had to say goodbye to a far number of clothes and books, but it's worth it. That's what I tell myself to feel better anyway.

My sleep patterns are a bit off because I'm a 9 - 6 girl, while ZW's schedule is all over the place (something I definitely do not miss about reporting).

So I try to stay up to spend some time with him, or else I'm effectively sleeping next to a person but not interacting much with him.

Other than that, it's simply getting used to another person in the house I suppose.

For him, he feels like an outsider moving into my home (a hopefully temporary solution to a housing crisis). My family has been absolute troopers, trying not to scare off the husband but smothering him with too much attention.

ZW too has been trying his best to fit in. It's difficult, of course. When our tempers clash, he never ceases to remind me that he's the one making the sacrifice, moving into a foreign situation and trying to acclimatize.Sure, I may have offered to do the reverse, but circumstances dictated that him moving in was the best solution.

So I try to hold my tongue when he unleashes his fiery temper, I try to squash my natural instincts to be a dirty, messy person and roll happily in my own filth. Because it's not just about me anymore.

For the most part, I feel like we are making progress, trying to fit into each other's rhythms.

But then we have a fiery blowout and I feel deflated again. I would then sit on my gorgeous new queen size bed (big perk of married life) and wonder what I've gotten myself into. The selfish single in me questions the point of giving up my free-wheeling ways, clamping down on after hours activities, cutting down the drinking, the clubbing, trying to be a cleaner person... and for what? So that he can still find fault with me? Wouldn't it be easier if we just lived apart.

Yup, things do suck royally on occasions.

But on other occasions, when he encourages me to pursue my passion for cooking, when he swallows half my cake to show support, when he smiles after a long day at work because I greet him at the door, when I fall asleep and he kisses me goodnight... these precious memories somehow make it all worth it.

And that's really it, I guess. Having a companion, a witness to your life. To feel like your actions have meaning, that what you do affects another person. That at the end of the day, bad behaviour can hurt someone, that good behaviour delights a person. To feel like you have an anchor to this world and that I'm accountable for, and to another person. To feel like I matter.

So deep breathe, baby steps people, baby steps.

T-minus 5 Hours

I'm getting married.

Just a year ago, Zhaowei popped the question in Prague.

We didn't do anything for the longest time, before something clicked and I was like, "shouldn't we be planning a wedding?"

The process was slow going, as we struggled to complete one task per weekend and yet, not forget to spend time as a couple.

In some sense, I've not really thought about what getting married means. There's still the official wedding ceremony in March. Today is merely the legal proceeding to satisfy the Singapore court.

So I'm married, but not quite.

And even after the March wedding, we won't be starting a life together. Because we have no home. You read that right - we aren't going to stay together.

We're still in queue for a BTO flat, but the situation could change in the near future. Everything is in limbo.

Some people think it's weird, others sympathize and have been in a similar situation.

So how does one grow up and meet the next milestone in life, when things are pretty much status quo?

After all the flowers have wilted and the gorgeous gown returned, I'll still be going home to the home I've known my whole life. I'll still see my husband/other half once a week as there's no space or option of moving into one house.

Will my life have changed in any real sense, aside from wearing a ring and ticking the married box?

Ok, I'm just freaking out a little. It's really here. I need to concentrate on the main thing - which is tying myself in every possible way to the love of my life. (Omg did I just quote Twilight????? I must really be freaking out!)

Halfway To Being A Missus

Getting married is serious stuff.

Far from walking into a Vegas chapel past midnight and getting Elvis to marry you, getting married in Singapore is much more bureaucratic.

We turned up at the Registries of Marriage (ROM) bright and early on a Wednesday morning, and hung around outside with several other couples waiting for the doors to open.

It was a mixed bag of couples - locals, locals marrying Ang moh men, locals marrying China women, even a couple who brought along a kid. Second marriage perhaps.

The doors slid open at 8.30am sharp and the nervous horde gravitated towards one terminal to get a queue ticket.

My fast thinking partner saw another lonely terminal just a few steps away and we broke out from the crowd and got a ticket fast. Ladies, get hitched to an observant one.

Today's ceremony was officiously called "statutory declaration and documents verification". This is after we had already filled out a form online and secured a solemnization date 3 months in advance. The other half asked why this procedure couldn't be done online in this day and age. Good question. The best I could come up with was cos getting married is serious stuff and only by making you jump through hoops does it really hit you.

We shuffled into the waiting area and our number was soon called up on the electronic board. A quick presentation of our IDs, and then we had to read out a marriage oath. More serious business.

ZW was unfortunately running a temp and was semi-delirious as he read out the wordy and legalistic oath. He probably wont remember much. I was mildly horrified that it all seemed so..clinical and loudly voiced my thoughts. The marriage officer was slightly amused. Ah, young love.

Then it was my turn. The passage turned out a lot harder than I imagined, and in my haste to get it over and done with, I tripped over several words. I'm pretty sure I said "sodomly" instead of "solemnly".

Before you think that's it, we still have to make another trip down to the ROM in a week's time to say our vows officially in front of a justice of peace.

Like ZW said, inefficient.

I guess I'm in limbo now, neither married nor single. Hmm.

Counting Down...

In less than 10 days' I'll be legally bound to another person for a foreseeable long period.

The last few days have been weird - with me swinging wildly between 2 extremes.

On some level, I can't wait to start a new life with ZW, and I do believe we will have a wonderful life together.

But on another level, I feel like a clock is hanging over me and I can feel my single hood slipping away.

Just the other day, I was talking to a girlfriend and the thought of me being MARRIED caused me to be speechless for a moment, I swears heart starting beating faster.

Will it be a change that I will feel keenly? Or will I continue acting like the baby of the family, expecting to get my way? I know my mum is sad, and growing wistful. I suppose it's only natural, seeing how I'm not only the first to fly the coop, but also the youngest in the family.

I hope my feet warm up as I get closer to the date....

My Ode To 2012

I know this is kinda late, but still a good reminder to myself.

=============================

2012 has been a year of surprises and major changes. But one thing I've learnt - there's only so much you can plan in life and rather than put your life on a set course, learn to embrace the unexpected. When you find something or someone you love, go full steam ahead. Here's to 2013!

My top 12 moments of 2012 (in no particular order):

1. It was five years in the making, but I finally made it to Europe again with my SMU ladies, this time with our uncle Shawn and respective partners. Older, but still as giggly and prone to doing silly things. An amazing trip and immersion into the Communist history of Budapest, Vienna and Prague. 

2. It was on the same Europe trip that Lin Zhaowei rendered me speechless by proposing in the fairytale city of Prague, planning the whole thing in secret with my friends. He said he was disappointed that I didn't cry. I think it spoke volumes that a broadcast journalist was at a loss for words. I still break out into a goofy smile thinking about that special day. :)

3. It took us five years, but we finally got the family together for a family vacation of sun, sand, massages in Phuket. It will be my last Chan family vacation as a single.

4. Traveling to Japan twice - and it wasn't to Tokyo. Traveling with the soon-to-be mother-in-law and sister-in-law to Osaka where we witnessed a short but magical snow shower. And making my first trip with my fiancé to Kyushu, where we enjoyed the pleasures of our own in-room onsen.

5. Taking formal Japanese lessons. It was a pain having to keep to a regimen of homework, waking up early and trudging to Orchard daily for nearly 2 months for lessons, but a truly fulfilling experience that has in turn, enhanced my trips to Japan as I'm finally able to communicate with the locals beyond "hello" and "thank you". I'm still taking weekly lessons and hopefully working to greater proficiency. がんばって！

6. No. 5 was only possible because after 4.5 years as a journalist, I decided it was time to move on. Walking away from my first job, and what will probably be the most exciting office I will work in, was a hard decision, but a decision I embraced in exchange for work-life balance.

7. The 8 months of 2012 that I was a journalist still managed to pack plenty of punch - moving beyond my comfort zone of housing, I dabbled briefly with politics. I staked out a disgraced politician's house in high heels and short skirt and had my picture land on Zaobao; I immersed myself in opposition politics and witnessed firsthand the time and sacrifice required. I sat in the rain during a political rally and joined thousands of others who refused to budge, all carried there in the name of idealism and the desire for something better. Oh, and simply to "stick it to the man". 

8. A year of memorable "live" reports - nothing beats the adrenaline rush. Driven out of bed at 7am by panicking editors and rushing down to Dhoby Ghout to file a "live" report on train breakdowns, interviewing a minister "live" on tv, and taking a picture of him in loafers that went viral on the internet; doing my patriotic duty and throwing on my sunniest smile to report on the nation's birthday and meeting a guy who's been to every NDP since 1965; hopping on top of the CNA van with no harness and praying that I will not crash to my death or be struck by lightning for reporting on a disgraced pastor charged with fraud, and rounding it all off by going all white for the pretentious Diner en Blanc, only to be kissed by some smelly drunk ang moh. Oui oui!

9. Reconnecting with special places in Singapore that had languished too long in my mind. Rocking it out at Fort Canning for a David Guetta concert, exploring the spooky tunnels of Fort Siloso on Halloween, watching an Elbow concert at Esplanade. Great experiences made great by great people. 

10. Following the untimely demise of my pink iPod nano, I finally jumped onto the full Apple experience with my first iPod touch, courtesy of the fiancé. Aside from experiencing all the hype first hand (Instagram! iTunes! #hashtag! Hipster!), it was the thoughtful gesture from the fiance that still makes me grin from ear to ear..

11. Finally getting the time to cook a lot more and experiment in the kitchen. From Thai to Japanese to Italian to French to Korean, I've discovered something I truly want to immerse myself in, that I'm proud of and want to share with people. Nothing satisfies as much as knowing that I'm filling bellies with good eats.

12. Above all, it's knowing that I'm surrounded by my lover and best friend, family, friends, colleagues and even strangers who have filled my days with laughter, knowledge, companionship, tears, fears, and a myriad of emotions that make me feel truly alive.

Here's to a great 2013!

Change A-Coming

Something is stirring in the wind. Can't tell you what, as it may just be that - a passing breeze that will blow over.

But the thing about change is, it's bloody scary. Be it relationship, job, or even your favourite pair of shoes. Trying on something new can be terrifying simply for being unknown. And being someone who specialises in self-doubt, the usual questions are crowding my brain.

"What if it's worse?" "What if you fail?" "Why can't you just be happy and contented with what you have?"

Sure, some people revel in the unknown, call it exciting and look forward to a brand new experience. But that's when you're in control. When you know the outcome, when you can decide if the situation goes well or poorly. Like cooking. New recipes are fun to try out and if you fail, well try again.

But alas, life is not that case. You usually just get one shot to get things right, if not, see ya.

Adding to the confusion - when you don't know if you really want the new thing. I'm a highly indecisive person. Usually, I'm a let-the-wind-blow-and-see-where-it-takes-me kind of person. Until a strong enough gust comes along, I'm rarely the one to make a move. I sit, I wait, I look, I pine, I sulk, I ponder, but ultimately, I'm not the one to take the first step.

Unless I'm high and full of alcohol/stupidity/oh-what-the-heck confidence. Like when I dared ZW to kiss me 7 days after we first met, or to leave me alone and stop sending me mixed signals. Yes, I grabbed THAT bull by the horn.

Well, let's see if this latest development is a typhoon or merely a breeze that tickled my ankle.

Now back to regular programming.

Cookie Monster

Finally rolled up my sleeves and got down to some baking. I've had a tragically high failure rate with baking cookies. For some strange reason, I simply can't get it right. I'm not sure if it's the oven, the recipe, or the crazy Singapore weather.

The only cookies I've ever made successful was in Cheryl's Boston apartment. Which leads me to conclude that the halfass microwave oven and the sweltering weather are ingredients in a recipe for disaster.

Today's batch was... meh, alright I suppose. A tad too sweet. Make that two tads too sweet. And definitely needed more time in the oven. On the plus side, they were cookies! Trust me, they sure beat the cake-like monstrosities I've rolled over over the years.

I used the ice cream scoop technique. Worked like a charm. Unfortunately,  I think the cookies were a wee bit too big and since I didn't press them down, they came out really thick.

Fresh from the oven

 Thanks to the humidity in Singapore, I'm morbidly afraid of soggy cookies. My solution - air drying them with a fan.

Cookies and milk!

Of course I didn't bust out all that effort for 6 cookies. Taking a leaf from Nigella Lawson, I scooped out all the batter, and put them in the deep freeze for sweet treats whenever I need a little pick me up.

In case anyone is interested, here's the recipe. But I suggest going little on the sugar (like wayyyy lighter, cut the brown sugar in half in fact). And do chill the cookies for 30 minutes before baking to get a better consistency.

Oh, and don't eat too many. Those little monsters are 285 calories a pop. Gaahh.

Taken from AllRecipes, from cook ElizabethBH.

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
• 1 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 1 egg
• 1 egg yolk
• 2 cups semisweet chocolate chips

Directions

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Grease cookie sheets or line with parchment paper.
2. Sift together the flour, baking soda and salt; set aside.
3. In a medium bowl, cream together the melted butter, brown sugar and white sugar until well blended. Beat in the vanilla, egg, and egg yolk until light and creamy. Mix in the sifted ingredients until just blended. Stir in the chocolate chips by hand using a wooden spoon. Drop cookie dough 1/4 cup at a time onto the prepared cookie sheets. Cookies should be about 3 inches apart.
4. Bake for 15 to 17 minutes in the preheated oven, or until the edges are lightly toasted. Cool on baking sheets for a few minutes before transferring to wire racks to cool completely.

 Recipe says it makes 18 large cookies. I had enough batter for 20.

Two Precious Years, An Ode To My Love

Today marks two precious years since ZW and I got together. It seems almost surreal, how quickly time flew by, the things we've experienced together, seeing the world together, and simply being together.

Actually, our anniversary date was decided upon quite arbitrarily. We had been seeing each other casually, I was in a state of indecision, some part of me even thought ZW might be a rebound fling. Short, passionate, intense but ultimately, fleeting. So it was almost unnatural when over the phone, he asked me to be his girlfriend (how shockingly old-fashion!) and I said "ok". And that was it, really.

Till today, I still shake my head in amazement at how we met and fell in love. Who would have thought that on a work trip to remote inland China, I would find love? That I would start talking to a fellow journo, someone who is passionate about life, photography, has a deep, soothing, sexy voice, is well-groomed and funny?

Ah hell, after a few days of spending time together on long bus rides, talking, laughing, creating our own world,  I found the fella irresistibly sexy. Throw in that camera of his, and I was hooked.  

Taken by a Chinese photographer. Still an amazing shot till today.

The first few months were a whirlwind. Somehow, we managed to squeeze in 2 mega birthday celebrations and 2 vacations in the first 6 months.

It's hard to describe what makes us tick. On paper, we're poles apart. We share very few common interests and that has been an issue on a few occasions. Our music tastes, our hobbies and even outlook on life can be very different.

Yet with each passing month, I found myself more and more in love with him. Like a giggly school girl, I wanted to spend more time with him than was possible given our schedules, I tried to show more interest in photography (think I'll stick to being the subject!) and even tried my hand at learning Japanese (still struggling with my ABC's).

I would like to think I've also contributed to expanding his outlook on life, gaining a greater appreciation for fine food, making him laugh, teaching him to to take things easier, and handling life's challenges with more humour and grace as and when they come.

Surrounded by a field of dandelions in Aomori.

By the end of the first year, we briefly spoke about marriage, but nothing serious. ZW expressed reservations over settling down, and while the relationship was serious, he didn't want to be tied down, to possibly lose the freedom to choose whatever path he wanted.

That discussion made me sad, but I knew it wasn't time to push it. Besides, if it was meant to be, it would be.

And three weeks ago, he turned my world upside down again.

HE PROPOSED TO ME.

He had given no indication, or perhaps I was simply oblivious. But somehow, he managed to buy a ring, and plotted with my friends to propose to me while we were overseas.

I may not have cried during the proposal, but trust me when I say my heart went into overdrive. Knowing that he put aside his reservations over marriage, his dreams of taking on the world solo, made me realise just what a precious gift he's been to me.

Honestly, I still can't believe we're engaged. I find myself staring at his face a lot more these days, wondering how we got here. The future may be a murky haze, and I'm fretting over the costs of our wedding and housing options.

But it just takes a reassuring smile from ZW, and his firm grip on my hand, and I know that everything's going to be just fine.

Mortality

The question of mortality cropped up unexpectedly in the car one afternoon. I was on my way to work, and the parents had kindly agreed to send me.

We were casually chatting about older workers in Singapore, and my dad pointed out that older workers who cross 62 years old face a major paycut - as much as 30%. That's the retirement age in Singapore, or as the government likes to call it, the re-employment age. Because most people don't retire at 62. They continue working. And with the new laws, the company has to offer its employee a job, should the employee be in the same health and mental condition.

Here's the catch - while the employer is legally obligated to offer re-employment, he doesn't have to do so on the same terms. So usually, employees face a huge pay cut. Simply for turning a year old, regardless of the fact that they are still doing the same job, the same hours, the same expectations.

And if the employee is unhappy, well, there are many younger people waiting for the job. And the company has done its legal obligation of offering a job.

Anyway, that wasn't the real point of this post. Just a minor rant.

What made the conversation really interesting was my mum musing that because of such factors, it is therefore better not to live so long, so you won't need as much money, you won't become sickly, or worse, a burden to your children.

Yes, my mum believes that a good age to die is 78 or 79. Still healthy, and not a burden, and lived a long enough life to enjoy it, being some of her reasons. She says she will pray for death with the time comes.

My dad sagely pointed out that while my fairly youthful mum can be cavelier about death now, the older a person gets, the more the person doesn't want to die.

It's one thing to imagine snuffing out the candle. But when the wick starts to burn out, the desire for the flame to stay alive becomes even stronger.

I'm not sure what to think. At 27, I'm fairly young I suppose. Death is still a somewhat vague concept. I've only had one close kin pass away (my maternal grandma). The only other funerals I've attended were my friends' relatives, and for work (which is another weird experience cos I essential throw up a wall and try not to imagine someone's pain while probing for intimate details).

But is my mum onto something? Dying at one's somewhat peak, rather than a painful withering process? Sure, she pointed out, there are those lucky few who pass away in their sleep, having died of old age and not had to experience the agony of a disease, or failing organs, or pain. But on the whole, most old people face some sort of disease and the longer you drag it out, the more painful it gets.

So is it so wrong to wish to die? And be at peace with it?

I just think it's very morbid.

A ghost of my former self

Happy Chinese New Year!

I know, such a big difference between my post title and my chirpy first line. I forgive you if you think I'm schizophrenic. Frankly, I'm starting to think I am.

I'm in a slump, a funk that I'm trying to dig myself out of. But it feels so difficult. So difficult. The lure of simply sinking and never finding the surface sounds almost too tempting.

I'm being melodramatic of course. The worse thing that could happen is that I continue coasting through life, failing to find the lust and drive that I once craved and exuded.

Work is... not great. I find it hard to find motivation to even get there on time every day. I look at my work and feel it's insipid, boring, lacking in writing and... conviction. A ghost. A shell. Simply existing and creating for the sake of it.

I've tried throwing myself into my personal life. I barely have time as it is to fit in family, boyfriend, friends, while planning for mad vacations, one after another. But then I find myself sitting at my desk, wondering what the hell I'm doing there.

The boyfriend tells me to quit. That it's eating my soul and being miserable simply isn't worth it. My mum said she'd feed me. The boyfriend said he'd give me an allowance. I have some savings. Probably could live like a hobo for a year even.

Problem is - I'm afraid. I simply wasn't brought up that way. To lead a life of idle. To leech off my parents  (more than I am at the moment, anyway). To be financially crippled. To weigh every purchase against a depleting account. To know that I don't even have the excuse of being a student to explain my lack of job.

I simply can't.

And the other problem is, I don't know what I want to do. A second career. Yes, I fell into this job. And for better or worse,  I'm adequate at it. If I can just control my temper, control my dreams, control my wanderlust, I can probably survive. But therein lies the problem I guess. It's getting harder to bite my tongue and resist the urge to flip the bird and walk out.

And then where would I go? I honestly believe that I have learnt very little in my current job that would serve me well in the real corporate world. For some reason, I feel that I've existed in a bubble for the last 4 years and if I force myself to wake up, I would find that I actually have no market value, no skills that will enable me to survive the real world.

Depressing. And that knowledge fills me with rage, with self-pity, with fear that I've become a coward. Fearful of change because what if I can't adapt? And that fear makes me angry and sad.

What a sad, vicious cycle indeed.

Oh, and does anyone want to employ me? I'm open to crazy ideas. Haha.

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.