Hurrah to sleeping in.
I love having people over for the New Year. The laughing, the eating, the noise, and even my tradition of losing at the blackjack table. The exhaustion of my 11-hour-entertaining has sunk in now that I'm finally slouched in my favourite rattan chair. Aren't I glad I don't start work tomorrow!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Noisy dinners and crowded streets.
Noisy dinners and crowded streets.
It's been my most traditional Lunar New Year to date because... I went jostling with the crowds at Chinatown last night! The initial plan was to head down at late 10ish when the hawkers start slashing the prices and to usher in the new year at midnight, but my mom informed me that the new year actually starts at 11pm. I've always been told not to wash my hair on the first day of the new year as it signified washing away bad luck, but I've never practised it because it makes me feel unclean. However, since I've already gone all out with the new clothes and red undies this year, I figured that I'd might as well go all the way this year. That meant that I had to be home with my hair washed before 11pm.
So CH and I squeezed our way into the packed alleys at 9ish after our individual reunions dinners, and I had lots of fun soaking in the festive atmosphere. The air was cool, the crowds were happy, and the hawkers were going all out with their sales rhymes. “一块，一块， 通通都卖一块。 一块， 一块，连我也卖一块！” That last bit had the aunties giggling. I went a tad overboard with the mochi buying, and ended up lugging home two boxes plus a huge plastic bag of assorted flavors. A huge bowl of them will be the centerpiece tomorrow at our annual open house.
Earlier this evening after morning visitings and my afternoon nap, E and I headed down to Vivo to catch The Wedding Game. Apart from having to crane my neck from our second row seats, I also had to endure Erwin Nah's incessant groanings. Okay, the show had its cheesy bits but it honestly wasn't that bad! But I have to admit it wasn't that good either... haha.
The highlight of my day (or of my sister's entertainment) however would have to be the beyond mortifying act I did before I headed home. I honestly don't know why I did something so rude and... weird. Oh God, I am strange!
恭喜发财 everybody!
It's been my most traditional Lunar New Year to date because... I went jostling with the crowds at Chinatown last night! The initial plan was to head down at late 10ish when the hawkers start slashing the prices and to usher in the new year at midnight, but my mom informed me that the new year actually starts at 11pm. I've always been told not to wash my hair on the first day of the new year as it signified washing away bad luck, but I've never practised it because it makes me feel unclean. However, since I've already gone all out with the new clothes and red undies this year, I figured that I'd might as well go all the way this year. That meant that I had to be home with my hair washed before 11pm.
So CH and I squeezed our way into the packed alleys at 9ish after our individual reunions dinners, and I had lots of fun soaking in the festive atmosphere. The air was cool, the crowds were happy, and the hawkers were going all out with their sales rhymes. “一块，一块， 通通都卖一块。 一块， 一块，连我也卖一块！” That last bit had the aunties giggling. I went a tad overboard with the mochi buying, and ended up lugging home two boxes plus a huge plastic bag of assorted flavors. A huge bowl of them will be the centerpiece tomorrow at our annual open house.
Earlier this evening after morning visitings and my afternoon nap, E and I headed down to Vivo to catch The Wedding Game. Apart from having to crane my neck from our second row seats, I also had to endure Erwin Nah's incessant groanings. Okay, the show had its cheesy bits but it honestly wasn't that bad! But I have to admit it wasn't that good either... haha.
The highlight of my day (or of my sister's entertainment) however would have to be the beyond mortifying act I did before I headed home. I honestly don't know why I did something so rude and... weird. Oh God, I am strange!
恭喜发财 everybody!
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Peranakan pride
Peranakan pride
Every year's reunion dinner would be characterized by my aunt and uncle's argument about whose achar (pickled vegetables) tasted better.
Uncle: You cannot follow the recipe exactly, you must taste and change it here and there. Then it won't be so thick/bland/sweet.
Auntie: How can you not follow the recipe. I always follow the recipe. Where got thick? You ask them. I prefer mine to yours.
My uncle dropped by early one morning last week, bearing a huge pot of achar, and my aunt informed me that she was preparing a vegetarian version of the side-dish this year. I was surprised. Has the unbroken tradition come to an unresolved standstill?
Several more of our usual festive preparations have altered over the years. My family apparently didn't go visiting on the first day of the last Lunar New Year as my uncle and I were both abroad. My mom also altered the arrangements of our yearly open-house party on the second day. The dishes will now be presented buffet style so people no longer have to queue to sit at the dining table. One of our relatives who always sends us pots of flowers in return for traditional Peranakan achar will also not be doing so this year (because my aunt's not making any!) and my folks will be going down to the nursery tomorrow to stock up on festive blooms. No more anticipating the 5pm call on Chinese New Year's eve to go downstairs to lug the flowers up. The clincher however has to be that this year's reunion dinner would not be held at home, but at my brother's restaurant. Some changes are undeniably for the better (like mom's buffet idea), but some (like the change of venue) I'm sure I'll miss.
The festive feeling is still very much in the air though. The women of the house (excluding me haha) have been up early scrubbing and baking the past few weeks - new curtains are hung, containers of homemade cookies crowd the coffee table, and unpacked boxes are shoved under beds. I suppose it is a reminder that things are never written in stone, and that I should enjoy the Khoo way of ushering in the New Year, whatever the favored method.
The holiday mood has also been evident in the office these past few days. Pineapple tarts and other New Year goodies are passed around, and oranges have been distributed for good luck. I've been going for proper lunches now that the magazine's gone to print, and Yaya and I have taken to visiting the Arab Street area during our break. Shaun also popped by yesterday and his penchant for Peranakan food made him the perfect companion to check out the bar/Peranakan café across the street with. I think we've finally regained the firm footing in our friendship after our cute but seemingly unwise decision to date a couple of years ago, and I'm very glad to have my SOS back.
And this has been my third consecutive happy week, since 2009 started actually. I always seem to find something to laugh and smile about everyday, despite inconsequential glitches like E (no, not Erwin) the bitch and my wobbly work-life balance.
Three weeknights out are still a little taxing and I must admit that downing mojitos with my sis after watching Cinderella last night wasn't my smartest move this week. I honestly lost track of time, while she naively thought I didn't have to work today. The thought of heading straight to bed after work was extremely tempting, but I'm glad I dragged myself down to the extremely noisy steamboat reunion dinner with the PR babes.
Oh my, it's Chinese New Year in less than three days! Guess I gotta dedicate part of my Saturday to finally spring cleaning. Now why am I even feeling happy about that...
Every year's reunion dinner would be characterized by my aunt and uncle's argument about whose achar (pickled vegetables) tasted better.
Uncle: You cannot follow the recipe exactly, you must taste and change it here and there. Then it won't be so thick/bland/sweet.
Auntie: How can you not follow the recipe. I always follow the recipe. Where got thick? You ask them. I prefer mine to yours.
My uncle dropped by early one morning last week, bearing a huge pot of achar, and my aunt informed me that she was preparing a vegetarian version of the side-dish this year. I was surprised. Has the unbroken tradition come to an unresolved standstill?
Several more of our usual festive preparations have altered over the years. My family apparently didn't go visiting on the first day of the last Lunar New Year as my uncle and I were both abroad. My mom also altered the arrangements of our yearly open-house party on the second day. The dishes will now be presented buffet style so people no longer have to queue to sit at the dining table. One of our relatives who always sends us pots of flowers in return for traditional Peranakan achar will also not be doing so this year (because my aunt's not making any!) and my folks will be going down to the nursery tomorrow to stock up on festive blooms. No more anticipating the 5pm call on Chinese New Year's eve to go downstairs to lug the flowers up. The clincher however has to be that this year's reunion dinner would not be held at home, but at my brother's restaurant. Some changes are undeniably for the better (like mom's buffet idea), but some (like the change of venue) I'm sure I'll miss.
The festive feeling is still very much in the air though. The women of the house (excluding me haha) have been up early scrubbing and baking the past few weeks - new curtains are hung, containers of homemade cookies crowd the coffee table, and unpacked boxes are shoved under beds. I suppose it is a reminder that things are never written in stone, and that I should enjoy the Khoo way of ushering in the New Year, whatever the favored method.
The holiday mood has also been evident in the office these past few days. Pineapple tarts and other New Year goodies are passed around, and oranges have been distributed for good luck. I've been going for proper lunches now that the magazine's gone to print, and Yaya and I have taken to visiting the Arab Street area during our break. Shaun also popped by yesterday and his penchant for Peranakan food made him the perfect companion to check out the bar/Peranakan café across the street with. I think we've finally regained the firm footing in our friendship after our cute but seemingly unwise decision to date a couple of years ago, and I'm very glad to have my SOS back.
And this has been my third consecutive happy week, since 2009 started actually. I always seem to find something to laugh and smile about everyday, despite inconsequential glitches like E (no, not Erwin) the bitch and my wobbly work-life balance.
Three weeknights out are still a little taxing and I must admit that downing mojitos with my sis after watching Cinderella last night wasn't my smartest move this week. I honestly lost track of time, while she naively thought I didn't have to work today. The thought of heading straight to bed after work was extremely tempting, but I'm glad I dragged myself down to the extremely noisy steamboat reunion dinner with the PR babes.
Oh my, it's Chinese New Year in less than three days! Guess I gotta dedicate part of my Saturday to finally spring cleaning. Now why am I even feeling happy about that...
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
平凡中的美味
平凡中的美味
If I haven't already mentioned this to you in passing, or if you haven't already figured it out by now: I am working on improving my Mandarin.
I grew up around people who thought it was cool to speak lousy Mandarin, and where getting a D or flunking the subject was thought to be a hoot and something we even bragged about. We listened only to Western pop and conversed only in English, and it didn't help either that my dad and aunt spoke Malay as a second language. I think we foolishly believed that we were English elitists.
I can't explain what brought about this change, but I suppose a combination of factors jolted me awake. There was that week in Shanghai when I struggled with conversing fluently in Mandarin, and then there's the ongoing challenge to translate simple terms in English to my nine-year-old piano kids each week. But perhaps at the root of it all, it took being with someone from an entirely different culture to make me embrace my own.
There were several instances in France where I felt shunned because I was Asian, and I don't think I've ever been so aware of my own ethnicity before that. I admit that it wasn't the greatest feeling, but it did make me realize how proud I was to be who I am.
I like our food, our superstitions, and the inexplicable mish-mash of customs that come with a Peranakan-Cantonese marriage. I have even grown to like the things I'd disregarded or which used to grate on my nerves: my sister's loud Cantonese, my mom's insistent superstitions and the hustle and bustle in the family kitchen weeks before the Chinese New Year. Even the crowds at Chinatown jamming up the roads don't bother me. Instead, I find the array of bright lights, chattering hawkers and jostling families extremely festive.
I mentioned that I didn't know what it was that brought about this monumental ease of being, but I am guessing that I do now. I've embraced who I am, and the odd characters who make up my family. I think we have all tried to be somebody else at some point in our lives, but I've learnt to see myself through my family's eyes, and I love being the person they love. I'm seeing the familiar through a renewed perspective, and that shift in perspective has allowed me to find joy in the tiniest details, like my mom laughing at my weirdly accented Cantonese in the mornings.
And that my friends, to quote Smiling Pasta, is 平凡中的美味 (the beauty in the ordinary).
If I haven't already mentioned this to you in passing, or if you haven't already figured it out by now: I am working on improving my Mandarin.
I grew up around people who thought it was cool to speak lousy Mandarin, and where getting a D or flunking the subject was thought to be a hoot and something we even bragged about. We listened only to Western pop and conversed only in English, and it didn't help either that my dad and aunt spoke Malay as a second language. I think we foolishly believed that we were English elitists.
I can't explain what brought about this change, but I suppose a combination of factors jolted me awake. There was that week in Shanghai when I struggled with conversing fluently in Mandarin, and then there's the ongoing challenge to translate simple terms in English to my nine-year-old piano kids each week. But perhaps at the root of it all, it took being with someone from an entirely different culture to make me embrace my own.
There were several instances in France where I felt shunned because I was Asian, and I don't think I've ever been so aware of my own ethnicity before that. I admit that it wasn't the greatest feeling, but it did make me realize how proud I was to be who I am.
I like our food, our superstitions, and the inexplicable mish-mash of customs that come with a Peranakan-Cantonese marriage. I have even grown to like the things I'd disregarded or which used to grate on my nerves: my sister's loud Cantonese, my mom's insistent superstitions and the hustle and bustle in the family kitchen weeks before the Chinese New Year. Even the crowds at Chinatown jamming up the roads don't bother me. Instead, I find the array of bright lights, chattering hawkers and jostling families extremely festive.
I mentioned that I didn't know what it was that brought about this monumental ease of being, but I am guessing that I do now. I've embraced who I am, and the odd characters who make up my family. I think we have all tried to be somebody else at some point in our lives, but I've learnt to see myself through my family's eyes, and I love being the person they love. I'm seeing the familiar through a renewed perspective, and that shift in perspective has allowed me to find joy in the tiniest details, like my mom laughing at my weirdly accented Cantonese in the mornings.
And that my friends, to quote Smiling Pasta, is 平凡中的美味 (the beauty in the ordinary).
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Ocean calling.
Ocean calling.
Yesterday's buffet lunch at Suki Sushi has officially quenched my insatiable sushi and sashimi cravings. I don't think I can stomach another slice of raw fish for awhile; until it's time to toss the yu sheng perhaps? On hindsight, a breakfast of three pineapple tarts and nothing else wasn't the smartest thing to have before a buffet consisting of mostly raw fish. I could almost feel their sliced up souls swimming around in my stomach while Ran and I took a post-lunch walk before settling down for another two hours in the cinema for The Women.
movie poster from movies.yahoo.com
I had mixed expectations about the film, especially when its synopsis likened it to Sex and the City. There can only be one SATC in my opinion, and any movie that claims to be similar would inevitably pale in comparison. It's like watching another sitcom starring six friends which likens itself to F.R.I.E.N.D.S., or eating a diet chocolate bar which claims to taste just like the real thing (yeah right, more like its cardboard packaging maybe).
The Women however was surprisingly good and nothing like a SATC knockoff, apart from the starting scene of designer shoes (which is more Lipstick Jungle than SATC really) and its focus on female friendships. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and so did my fellow cinema-goers judging from the constant chuckles, though I can't quite fathom why I found it so difficult to keep my eyes open halfway through the movie. It took the audience's loud laughter at a hilarious punchline and a lot of will power before I settled myself upright and awake again. All I missed was Meg Ryan's transformation from downtrodden betrayed to up-and-coming fashion designer.
The weekends pass awfully quickly now that I'm working. My undergrad timetable used to allow me at least one weekday afternoon to myself, but the only me-time I get on weekdays now is split between workouts (in order to maintain a semblance of a non-sedentary lifestyle) and dinner dates. My three nights out this week (Shokudo dinner with the uni babes on Tuesday, Mcdonald's and gossip with my poly threesome on Wednesday, and Cedele and more gossip with the Alphabets on Friday) made getting out of bed in the mornings and the post-lunch slumps harder than usual. I'm not complaining though. The tight schedule's made me more appreciative of the weekends, and I procrastinate a tad less than when my time was not governed by a 9 to 6:30 job.
I do miss having a morning lie-in though. My alarm clock still goes off during the weekends now that I give piano lessons on Saturday and Sunday mornings. I've fostered a bond with my three students that it feels like a mini catch-up of sorts more than a music lesson, so that takes the edge off my morning calls. Early mornings are also really a small price to pay for travel money. (Yes that's how I get the moolah to fund my jaunts around the globe. It's the more glamorous and better-paying alternative to waitressing in a Parisian bar to buy a ticket home.)
That said, I am going to put the above-mentioned paragraph on procrastinating less to the test by logging off for a spot of spring-cleaning.
Yesterday's buffet lunch at Suki Sushi has officially quenched my insatiable sushi and sashimi cravings. I don't think I can stomach another slice of raw fish for awhile; until it's time to toss the yu sheng perhaps? On hindsight, a breakfast of three pineapple tarts and nothing else wasn't the smartest thing to have before a buffet consisting of mostly raw fish. I could almost feel their sliced up souls swimming around in my stomach while Ran and I took a post-lunch walk before settling down for another two hours in the cinema for The Women.
movie poster from movies.yahoo.com
I had mixed expectations about the film, especially when its synopsis likened it to Sex and the City. There can only be one SATC in my opinion, and any movie that claims to be similar would inevitably pale in comparison. It's like watching another sitcom starring six friends which likens itself to F.R.I.E.N.D.S., or eating a diet chocolate bar which claims to taste just like the real thing (yeah right, more like its cardboard packaging maybe).
The Women however was surprisingly good and nothing like a SATC knockoff, apart from the starting scene of designer shoes (which is more Lipstick Jungle than SATC really) and its focus on female friendships. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and so did my fellow cinema-goers judging from the constant chuckles, though I can't quite fathom why I found it so difficult to keep my eyes open halfway through the movie. It took the audience's loud laughter at a hilarious punchline and a lot of will power before I settled myself upright and awake again. All I missed was Meg Ryan's transformation from downtrodden betrayed to up-and-coming fashion designer.
The weekends pass awfully quickly now that I'm working. My undergrad timetable used to allow me at least one weekday afternoon to myself, but the only me-time I get on weekdays now is split between workouts (in order to maintain a semblance of a non-sedentary lifestyle) and dinner dates. My three nights out this week (Shokudo dinner with the uni babes on Tuesday, Mcdonald's and gossip with my poly threesome on Wednesday, and Cedele and more gossip with the Alphabets on Friday) made getting out of bed in the mornings and the post-lunch slumps harder than usual. I'm not complaining though. The tight schedule's made me more appreciative of the weekends, and I procrastinate a tad less than when my time was not governed by a 9 to 6:30 job.
I do miss having a morning lie-in though. My alarm clock still goes off during the weekends now that I give piano lessons on Saturday and Sunday mornings. I've fostered a bond with my three students that it feels like a mini catch-up of sorts more than a music lesson, so that takes the edge off my morning calls. Early mornings are also really a small price to pay for travel money. (Yes that's how I get the moolah to fund my jaunts around the globe. It's the more glamorous and better-paying alternative to waitressing in a Parisian bar to buy a ticket home.)
That said, I am going to put the above-mentioned paragraph on procrastinating less to the test by logging off for a spot of spring-cleaning.
Monday, January 12, 2009
32 stills of the sunset.
32 stills of the sunset.
"What if I already have everything I want?
Then wish that nothing changes."
Something inside me has shifted of late, and my perspective of life has changed with it. Yet nothing significant has happened to explain the growing contentment in my heart.
Perhaps the changes have been silently creeping up, each one so tiny and seemingly inconsequential till they all add up to bring about this monumental ease of being. I remain oblivious through it all until a thought occurs, or when I blurt out something that makes me stop in my tracks and wonder, "Did I just say that?"
I was strolling around Ikea with an old friend over the weekend while discussing his interest for photography. I used to give him grief about how photography makes one miss out on living for the moment, yet I too have picked it up. I don't take back that statement though - I am aware that I have often been too caught up in capturing a moment to actually pause and live it. I am pretty sure the seamless transition of the sunset is in reality much prettier than the 32 stills I have stored in my DSLR.
Why then do we still have this pressing need to immortalize time? Is it an inexplicable need to prove our skill to others, to showcase our perspective, or to justify that we have indeed been at a particular place at a particular time?
As we walked around the many framed photos, often that of beautiful stills and cityscapes, I couldn't help but see the slums of India in my mind's eye. Is photography just another pursuit of beauty and perspective?
What positive impact can capturing a moment have on the greater good of the world? We have long established that life isn't fair, but should we be actively pursuing beauty when so many others out there are actively pursuing the chance to live? Yet we shouldn't be giving up all material pleasures just because we have it and others don't, should we?
Talk is cheap I know, because I don't think I'll ever be able to give up these selfish pursuits which make me happy. But it is something worth thinking about.
"What if I already have everything I want?
Then wish that nothing changes."
Something inside me has shifted of late, and my perspective of life has changed with it. Yet nothing significant has happened to explain the growing contentment in my heart.
Perhaps the changes have been silently creeping up, each one so tiny and seemingly inconsequential till they all add up to bring about this monumental ease of being. I remain oblivious through it all until a thought occurs, or when I blurt out something that makes me stop in my tracks and wonder, "Did I just say that?"
I was strolling around Ikea with an old friend over the weekend while discussing his interest for photography. I used to give him grief about how photography makes one miss out on living for the moment, yet I too have picked it up. I don't take back that statement though - I am aware that I have often been too caught up in capturing a moment to actually pause and live it. I am pretty sure the seamless transition of the sunset is in reality much prettier than the 32 stills I have stored in my DSLR.
Why then do we still have this pressing need to immortalize time? Is it an inexplicable need to prove our skill to others, to showcase our perspective, or to justify that we have indeed been at a particular place at a particular time?
As we walked around the many framed photos, often that of beautiful stills and cityscapes, I couldn't help but see the slums of India in my mind's eye. Is photography just another pursuit of beauty and perspective?
What positive impact can capturing a moment have on the greater good of the world? We have long established that life isn't fair, but should we be actively pursuing beauty when so many others out there are actively pursuing the chance to live? Yet we shouldn't be giving up all material pleasures just because we have it and others don't, should we?
Talk is cheap I know, because I don't think I'll ever be able to give up these selfish pursuits which make me happy. But it is something worth thinking about.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Embracing what's mine.
Embracing what's mine.
I'm just done watching Smiling Pasta for the second time, and I haven't been this caught up in an idol drama since 2001 (I was an unwilling victim of the Meteor Garden fever). Apart from the melodrama and "awww" factor which I admit had me hooked, what also captivated me was how similar the female lead's family was to mine. Watching the drama tangibilized the parallels and made me realize just how fortunate I am.
Okay, so my family neither owns a pasta shop nor do they cheer me on with pompoms as I run a marathon (thank God); but just like in the drama, helping me out is always a family affair.
For example, a wardrobe crisis early last week had me running to G2000 on Monday night and returning home with three pairs of unaltered pants. Early Tuesday morning, my aunt was asking if I wanted her to bring them to the tailor, my sis was whipping out her pair of fabric scissors, and my mom had her reading glasses on, all ready to sew.
I've been in and out of this house for the past 22 years, but I've only truly begun to understand and appreciate the true meaning of a home.
It's where I can always return to, after fun, heartache, or a jaunt across the globe.
Where the light is always left on for me when I stay out late, and the doors are always open.
Where I am never judged, and the best is always thought of me.
Where differences always ironed out, and grudges never last.
This Chinese New Year, the one thing I am truly thankful of and the one thing I can truly embrace, is their unconditional love.
How about you?
I'm just done watching Smiling Pasta for the second time, and I haven't been this caught up in an idol drama since 2001 (I was an unwilling victim of the Meteor Garden fever). Apart from the melodrama and "awww" factor which I admit had me hooked, what also captivated me was how similar the female lead's family was to mine. Watching the drama tangibilized the parallels and made me realize just how fortunate I am.
Okay, so my family neither owns a pasta shop nor do they cheer me on with pompoms as I run a marathon (thank God); but just like in the drama, helping me out is always a family affair.
For example, a wardrobe crisis early last week had me running to G2000 on Monday night and returning home with three pairs of unaltered pants. Early Tuesday morning, my aunt was asking if I wanted her to bring them to the tailor, my sis was whipping out her pair of fabric scissors, and my mom had her reading glasses on, all ready to sew.
I've been in and out of this house for the past 22 years, but I've only truly begun to understand and appreciate the true meaning of a home.
It's where I can always return to, after fun, heartache, or a jaunt across the globe.
Where the light is always left on for me when I stay out late, and the doors are always open.
Where I am never judged, and the best is always thought of me.
Where differences always ironed out, and grudges never last.
This Chinese New Year, the one thing I am truly thankful of and the one thing I can truly embrace, is their unconditional love.
How about you?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Can't fight this feeling.
Can't fight this feeling.
Today marks the end of my first work week in over three years.
This morning, I found myself bounding out of bed before the alarm rang as a subtle sense of anticipation spurred me on to the office. I was almost impatient to reach my desk to start the transcribing, and I found myself silently crafting the introduction to my piece as the bus chugged along.
To me, the raw material is the most frustrating yet exciting to work with - in its murky mess lie endless possibilities and angles where a subtle tweak or shift in words can alter the essence of the piece. Then came the repetitive cycle of typing, re-reading and editing every other line in an attempt to transform the tangles of information into coherence. My eyes flick to the clock ever so often, my heart hammering a little faster each time.
What might sound like a mundane race against time is really what gives me that heady rush. A piece can never be perfect, but more than half the fun's derived while striving to get there.
It is probably too early to say, and definitely way to soon to ascertain, but honestly? So far so good.
Today marks the end of my first work week in over three years.
This morning, I found myself bounding out of bed before the alarm rang as a subtle sense of anticipation spurred me on to the office. I was almost impatient to reach my desk to start the transcribing, and I found myself silently crafting the introduction to my piece as the bus chugged along.
To me, the raw material is the most frustrating yet exciting to work with - in its murky mess lie endless possibilities and angles where a subtle tweak or shift in words can alter the essence of the piece. Then came the repetitive cycle of typing, re-reading and editing every other line in an attempt to transform the tangles of information into coherence. My eyes flick to the clock ever so often, my heart hammering a little faster each time.
What might sound like a mundane race against time is really what gives me that heady rush. A piece can never be perfect, but more than half the fun's derived while striving to get there.
It is probably too early to say, and definitely way to soon to ascertain, but honestly? So far so good.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
366 days later.
366 days later.
Yet another year has passed us by. Perhaps there is some truth in the saying that life fast fowards the minute you're past 21.
It really does feel like yesterday that I was waking up to India's freezing cold and brilliant winter sunshine. Those red brick walls and languid days of chai and butter toast don't seem that far away.
The elusive fireworks of yesteryear.
Looking back on 2008, all I can seem to think of is how long my hair was!
New year resolutions almost always never get fulfilled, but I think the dawn of a new year acts as a psychological impetus to convince us to break out of old habits and try just that little bit harder.
So while the first day of 2009 is still working its motivating magic, here's what I'm gonna try to do this year:
1. Be more religious about sunblock
2. Lose 3kg, or at least not gain any while on internship
3. Keep practising yoga
4. Keep traveling
5. Live, love and laugh more
Sounds simple enough?
Yet another year has passed us by. Perhaps there is some truth in the saying that life fast fowards the minute you're past 21.
It really does feel like yesterday that I was waking up to India's freezing cold and brilliant winter sunshine. Those red brick walls and languid days of chai and butter toast don't seem that far away.
The elusive fireworks of yesteryear.
Looking back on 2008, all I can seem to think of is how long my hair was!
New year resolutions almost always never get fulfilled, but I think the dawn of a new year acts as a psychological impetus to convince us to break out of old habits and try just that little bit harder.
So while the first day of 2009 is still working its motivating magic, here's what I'm gonna try to do this year:
1. Be more religious about sunblock
2. Lose 3kg, or at least not gain any while on internship
3. Keep practising yoga
4. Keep traveling
5. Live, love and laugh more
Sounds simple enough?
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