story of a bracelet

story of a bracelet

I've never had a trinket with a story to tell. You know, the locket that her grandmother passed to her on her wedding day, the pendant that she thought she'd lost but he picked up, the necklace that her father bought her the day they received her sister into the world, the moonstone ring that an enigmatic sorceress bestowed her.

This bracelet with a heart-shaped charm is probably the closest I've come to that. A little history now. When I received this bracelet, I've had yet received any kind of jewelry from G. It was Christmas in 2009, my first at his family dinner. His sisters, all of them incredibly sweet girls, gave this to me. I loved it.

A couple of days after Christmas, I left for Canada, and him Glasgow. I wore this bracelet as a reminder of home and love. It'd be one of the only few pieces of accessories I wore for special occasions. I loved fiddling with the charm, a heart angled like a girl poised for a kiss.

When we saw each other again four months later, the heart would sit between us as our hands joined. An amulet, it saw us through. I wore it on the road when we backpacked Europe because I wanted to see the heart-shaped charm to dangle from my wrist in all the special photos.

And there it was, tinkling with its secret melody as we mock wrestled on the beaches of Santorini. In an instant indiscernible to the human senses, the bracelet broke free and sailed through the air, freewheeling. My wrist was bare. The tiniest of splashes. A fleeting glimmer. Like a lover's silent rustling of the sheets in the morning. A gentle kiss on the forehead while he sleeps. Then the reluctant goodbye.

We splashed about and groped blindly amongst the waves, picking up fistfuls of wet sand and letting it run through our fingers. No bracelet.

"It's probably gone, babe."

But I stood there, for a long while, watching the waves crash into the sand, shift a few grains and retreat back into the ocean. The sparkling water hurt my eyes, but I stared. In my head, I imagined the string of silver twirling and wreathing in the deep blue. Goodbye.

But only till we meet again.

It wasn't really gone, I know. I can see it suspended in the ocean, like it was locked in time, like an immortal mermaid poised for a kiss that would bring her to life. Maybe someday a snorkeler would find it, polish it until it shines with all its former glory. Then it would become someone else's story.

Meanwhile, we held hands, without the silver heart sitting between us, and made a wish. Ocean for well; bracelet for coin. I leaned in for a kiss and felt my own heart twirl with love, dancing in the indigo blue.

le weekend

le weekend

Weekends are for staying in, 

so that we can nap while the rain pours, 

and walk the dog when the sun shines. 

Like monochrome, two elements make it whole; 

sleep/wake, rain/shine, you/me. 

Stable, therefore our staple. 

Until the next. 

buys: pink & orange

buys: pink & orange

I love how this photo says so much about me. 

There was a bazaar in school and I dropped by the usual old books booth out of habit. Thing is, I've been craving for a light chick lit type of read for quite some time now. But I can never justify buying a book that I won't want to find on my bookshelf in say, 5 years. And lately I've developed a genuine dislike for pretentious and frivolous writing. You know, those that pretend to be all post-modern and nonchalant but turns out to be dictatorship on the way you live your life in Morse code or something. 

So, even after judging 5 books by the cover (I really cannot understand the saying "Don't judge a book by its cover" by the way. Anyone who has tried to buy a book without prior research would know that you can't help but to judge the damn book by its cover!) and finally settling on one, I couldn't bring myself to buy it. Even if it was $2.90, such a paltry sum that it's not enough to get me onto a cab. 

Unless I bought a artsy-fartsy-dusty classics as well. 

Oh, self! The things you do to me. See, now we've got poor Hardy turning in his grave, sandwiched between Drama Queen and Kate Spade (which, by the way, is fake but costs the same as the two books put together). HAHA.

valentine's, always epic

valentine's, always epic

Every year, Valentine's is pretty epic for us. Last year, I fell off a chair. This year, oh, this year. All I can is  someone one up there is pushing us to top the game each year.

For the life of me, I couldn't decide on what gift to get G this year even though I started thinking about it waaay early. Actually, I haboured a secret thought for a long time - I absolutely hate the pair of shoes he wears to work and I had thought Valentine's was the *perfect* excuse to get them changed; but I also knew those shoes are what I wanted for him, not quite what he'd want for himself. 

Furthermore, upon embarking on my shopping trip for a decent pair of shoes, I was SO bored and confused! All men's shoes look THE SAME and I couldn't quite remember if he was a size 42 or 43. And then the design and colour - do Asian men wear anything other than black? Would anything fancier than plain be too loud for work? 

So. I waited till the morning of Valentine's itself for some divine sign to fall into my lap. But it did not. I sat at Starbucks, between an interview and a lecture, mulling over it. Finally, at 11.51am, Saint Valentine spoke to me. He ordered that I get a spa package for both of us because... Wait, do you actually need a reason for a spa??

But... how do I present this gift to G? I can't possibly print out the receipt and maybe laminate it before presenting it to him like some certificate, can I? The latent Martha Stewart in me was about to explode. So after class, I went shopping for some materials so that I could make a voucher of sort that actually looks like a gift. Oh dear comrades, you don't decide to embark on a crafts project a mere 4 hours away from dinner. You just don't. It is mission kazikame. 

The envelope was the only thing that turned out decent-looking, because it was first to get done.

So after the great battle of paper, glue and scissors (hey, this should be a new game!), I finally got down to dolling up and picked out a pair of vintage heels to go with my dress. By vintage, I literally mean that my shoes were 5 years old, but never worn because I couldn't find an occasion. Almost immediately after stepping out of the house, THEY SPLIT RIGHT OPEN ON ME! The horrors!

When I eventually tottered my way to dinner on the alternative pair of 5 inches, I was 20 minutes late and my toes were yelping for help. I was all ready for face the wrath of the hungry man. But oh that man, that good man. He sat me down, ordered us a bottle of wine and everything was better at once. In fact, everything was perfect. How can it not be? Candle flickering between us, lights and stars glittering all around us, the clink of wine glasses surrounding us. Mostly, us. I couldn't ask for more. Happy Valentine's, my dearest.

Oh right, my camera just had to die at the exact moment I asked for a photo of us.
Thus the noir-et-blanc to save the lousy iPhone flash. 

CHAMPIONS!

CHAMPIONS!

IVP Champions, 2012. 

WE FUCKING DID IT! CHAMPIONS!!! I honestly thought my heart was going to stop beating when we concluded the first half at 2-4. But we came back a phenomenal 5-1 in the second half and finished off 7-5 at the final whistle. I don't know where or how we found it in us to do, but each and everyone of us had it in us and boy, we wanted those gold medals. To every single one of you, you were amazing.

There is no better way to end my last game in NUS. It's been four long years and we finally, finally got the trophy back! This one's for you, Karen. Thank you, for everything.

And to myself, remember this moment of glory and victory. Remember to always keep your eyes on what's most important. Remember that in everything you do, have heart.

CNY traditions, old & new

CNY traditions, old & new

Width of smile is proportionate to the amount of alcohol in this family.

My family is not too big on Christmas and New Year's, but when it comes to the CHINESE New Year, boy, that we're super big on. I secretly suspect it's Mommy favourite festive season of the year. We go on a crazy mission to rid the house of every speck of dust, decorate the entire house (which includes but is not restricted to the lift lobby) in red and gold, plaster posters of the favoured animal for that respective year on the walls, cook enough to feed an army or maybe two. I always describe my CNY as nonstop action-packed!

Being my mother's daughter, I am crazy enough to add new traditions of my own to the list and make the fullest of the festivities to meet up with all my loved ones! Of course, it starts at home with a huge reunion feast, prepared with so much love by Mommy, topped with copious alcohol. It's always a battle between Daddy and I, to see who loses the war with the Z monsters after. Hahaha.

Then it'd be a trip to Glenn's, usually on the second day, to bai nian to his parents and extended family. And I tell you, his extended family really redefines the meaning of "extended". There are so many aunties, uncles, grandaunts, granduncles, cousins, nephews and nieces! And man, you definitely do not want to mistake the niece of your boyfriend as his auntie. But luckily, or should I say unluckily, for us, his nieces and nephews are actually all little enough for me not to make that kinda mistake.

I sincerely hope no one mistook our relations. It must have been a such a shock.

This year, with Glenn's jiejie being away, we were in charge of taking the little tots down for a walk. Man, this walk in the park was definitely not a walk in the park. And these are two people who did not have much sleep the night before due to mahjong kaki duties. We were up till 6am and went to bed just before sunrise! I even have a Hello Kitty toy to prove my visit to McDonalds in the wee hours (the only hour when any 22yo dares to order a Happy Meal and ask for the toy, really)!

And of course you'd totally expect me to have friends who love the festivities as much as I do and celebrate as religiously as I do too. It's been an annual gathering at Phuay's since we were in JC and we've been keeping it up every year since then! It's always like JC reunion, except better, with pineapple tarts and angbaos!

Then it's our annual pig out session at my place with the closest and the oldest friends, who all love my wonderful Mommy more than they love me. Yes, over the years, they have sort of given up on hoping that I'd inherit some of those culinary skills. I've been declared a lost cause in the kitchen. Hahaha. This year I invited some of the touch girls and mixed up the group a little and everyone enjoyed the new dynamics very much! What friendship can't be forged over a pack of poker cards and some loose change from the angpaos?

See, I really wasn't kidding when I said CNY is nonstop action-packed for me. How was yours? (:

oh, winter

oh, winter

Sometimes I wish there were seasons in this part of the world. I miss winter. Snow, unlike rain, dances in the sky instead of plummeting straight down. Laying a soft veil over the world, it paints everything white and creates a world of its own. Snow tastes mildly sweet on your tongue, something like morning dew, I'd imagine. 

I miss the cold on my cheeks when I step out of the house in the morning. The routine of picking out the outfit for the day, layer by layer, becomes precious in retrospect; and the act of bending over to zip up my boots sacred; and of course, the soft crunch of snow under my feet as I sink my boots into the white carpet magical. 

The cold air feels different in my lungs - reinvigorating. It courses through my body, makes my blood tingle with life and finally exits through my mouth in a puff. Winter changes the whole state of being. It makes me feel... alive. In the land of cold, I'm the only source of warmth. In the night sky, the shooting star is the only light, charting its own course, leaving a burning trail. 

Oh winter, I miss you so. 

of rainbows

of rainbows

Glasgow, 2010.

On the eye of the Lunar New Year, after a magnificent bout of afternoon showers, a double rainbow rose over the Singapore skies. It was beautiful. (Or so I've learnt afterwards, looking through the endless stream of photos on Facebook.)

In another time and place, we were together, our feet soaked from the wet grass, standing atop a hill, in the middle of the Necropolis. Then the evening sun peeked out for a wee bit, its rays hitting the tiny droplets that were dancing in the air, forming a rainbow halfway across the sky. I was so thrilled. This must be a sign that, put in the most cliched words, we will brave all our storms together. 

Rainbows, I hope they'd always remind me of that afternoon in Glasgow. 

2012 so far

2012 so far

I am bouncing and bursting with excitement as I type this. Not the usual I'm-so-excited-about-this-party-I'm-going-to kinda excitement. It's more of a rich sense of anticipation, like watching a good movie and smiling before the end reveals itself because you just know. 2012 holds so much potential for and promise of beautiful things waiting to happen and there's such a certainty in my heart that I'm about to first implode then explode with joy.

In this moment, as my fingers dance across the keyboard following some cosmic choreography, this is the last day of 2012 and the last day in forever. In this moment, I imagine life to be a long, winding railroad cutting through breathtaking landscape and snaking through dark caves. In this moment, I alight at a platform perched on a cliff, where I have the astounding view of the past, the present and the future. The platform is today, the last day I'll know, until the next day comes. 

So, the last day. We won! And damn, it feels good! It's been a long time coming. Fast backward a couple of months. I was stuck in a rut, sick of commitments and tired of trying. I didn't want to play anymore. Somehow I stayed. Somehow I played. Today, I remembered why I love this game and why I love this team. I am good at this. The dive, the speed, the hands. I've got it. Today, we showed it. 

40 minutes and a victory later, I see a text from G, wishing me luck and reminding about Uncle G's birthday dinner. Boots in hand, dress unkempt and bag over my shoulder, I ran barefooted to the lobby into the cab that I called. In a rush. Headrush. Heady from all the love and attention from people who are quite suddenly, family. 

"How's your eye?" "How's your eye?" "How's your eye?" 

In the year 2012, I had a serious eye infection. I saw four different doctors and spent a Sunday evening waiting at the A&E. But I've never seen this love so clearly before. This love is fierce. This love is tender. This love has cradled me through pastoral paradise, brushed past jagged cliffs and brought us into the heart of the stoic mountains that stand majestic. We are in a clam, serene place. It's a good place to be in. 

I stand on my tiptoes and cast my eyes further into the days. The rest of 2012 in retrospect: wearing my sparkly prom dress to a wedding dinner, witnessing the exchange of vows as the sun set over the ocean, being an hour early for class on the last first day of school, cannonballing into the sea from the roof of a yacht, partying like a rockstar at my first hen's night. 

This moment is over. The whistle has sounded, the conductor beckons. I step towards the train, one foot on the tread, and took one last long look, not quite believing that I've sort of tumbled and cavorted through all of that in the span of 17 days.The whistle sounds again and the wheels chug. Here we go, 2012! I absolutely cannot wait for the rest of the 348 days. 

why i love Christmas

why i love Christmas

There is something truly magical about Christmas. Being a non-believer, it has little to do with the birth of Christ or going to Church. Being a non-consumerist (or so I'd like to believe), it is not all about sales and discounts. So why do I love this festive season so much? 

Maybe it's the lights that go up in town every year. Maybe it's the gifts and the excitement (and often headache) of picking out gifts for the ones I love. Maybe it's the eating, the drinking and the partying. Maybe it's the funnily shaped conical trees decorated with lights and globes and angels. Maybe it's the idea of Santa. Maybe it's the endless renditions of Holy Night. 

More likely, it's a combination of all of those. 

But it's also the time of the year to wrap up and take stock, to find time and reflect, to stop work and have fun, to look back and give thanks, to remember and to love, to laugh and to smile. It is the whole year's laughter and tears drawing to a close, of happy moments and the in-betweens. It is when the whole world, finally, stops for awhile to celebrate a season of love. The mad rush to close accounts in the office, finish up Christmas shopping, wrap all the presents - all just so we can go home for a good meal together, with family and friends. 

Urban life is often an endless loop of work, appointments, projects, assignments, deadlines and whatnots. The 25th of December and the few days after which lead up to the new year allow us to pause and take a deep breath. It's a bookmark, a snapshot, a fullstop. It's Christmas.