Solace.

image via weheartit.com

It hasn't been the breeziest of weeks. I've had my fair share of laughter, courtesy of my nutty colleagues and, I've come to realise, an absurd ability to laugh at myself, but there's been a hint of gloom hanging over it all; the kind of gloom that can encourage not-so-cheery feelings to grow and fester, if not properly tended to.

I had one of those mornings yesterday, quite possibly because I was lugging around what feels like a body's worth of loaned tableware and hardcover books about town. I was grumpy and cranky, and my top was unflatteringly hitched up into awkward folds by the loaded bags.

I tottered briskly on towards the last stop, impatiently blowing my fringe out of my eyes. I came up the escalator from the underpass and instinctively, my steps slowed as my vision focused on the Sun Moulin Bakery.

 The aromas wafting out from the bakery reeled me in and I soon found myself navigating its narrow aisles in wide-eyed wonder, oblivious to the weight on my left shoulder now that all my other senses were consumed by the sight and smells of freshly baked pastries.

I was instantly cheered. I'd found my happy place.

Whoopeedoo.

It may be a long working Saturday in the office tomorrow, but I'm milking the short exhilaration that comes with most Friday nights. That, and I'm feeling strangely pumped up - we're FINALLY nearing the finish line for our launch issue and I'm feeling super, super proud and satisfied. "It's like giving birth," my colleague quipped. 

Yup, it sure does feel like it!

But it's never quite all work and no play food in the office. :)

Taking stock.

I suppose it is when you're dog tired yet still buzzing with contentment that you can be certain you love your job. It's been a crazy week at work, but witnessing our hard work translate into a tangible product, and of course having the traditional closing drinks with the team, make all the scrambling and late nights worth it.

 But I did have a spot of calm before the storm. I spent the entire weekend doing absolutely nothing work related and what a breath of fresh air it was! It was good catching up on all the gossip with the GQC babes over pizzas and desserts on Saturday, as it was having Jin over on Sunday evening to demolish a few cupcakes and wine, in a somewhat homely tribute to our pre-India/HK happy hour margaritas. And despite her allergy to dust, she gamely got on her knees to peek under my bed and behind the piano in the hopes of uncovering something I've stupidly misplaced.

I've yet to find it.

Well, I should know by now that life indeed works in funny ways. Perhaps the answers I'm looking for will come to me in another way.

I'd still like to find it though.

Happenstance - A long time coming.

Happenstance - A long time coming.

I thought of becoming a writer seven years ago, but my road towards getting my foot in the publishing door has been quite the arduous journey. My early attempts saw me sending out countless internship resumes, many of which went unanswered; spending a summer lugging fashion bags around town for an unpaid internship; and at times squeezing myself dry over freelance pieces that went unpublished. I felt like a true writer only on the rare occasion - most times I just felt like one of the wannabe-actresses in Hollywood waitressing while waiting for their big break.

Seven years and several hard knocks later, I finally get it.

Today, in the very same Starbucks where I got my first freelance assignment three years ago,  the editor whom I had previously passed up the chance to train under offered me a position as a food and travel writer.

I have never in my wildest dreams imagined I would be able to secure a food (not to mention travel!) writing position, and on top of that write for an audience I can relate to. Anybody who knows just how passionate I am about food and just how much I love traveling would know how much this opportunity means to me. It's been a long time coming, but the wait has made it so much sweeter and the rewards so much greater. I. Am. So. Bloody. Stoked!

Too much food.

Too much food.

I was kidnapped from my desk and driven in suspense to a rabbit hole for a loooong feast and lunchtime giggles.


http://www.flickr.com/photos/figmentsimagination/2983176951/

I feel like an extremely well-fed Alice in Wonderland. Now who's the Mad Hatter and the March Hare... heh heh.

The language of food.

The language of food.


Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity. ~Voltaire

I don't believe in permanence, but if these eight weeks make up a slice, then just give me the whole damn cake! :)

Happiness is...

Happiness is...


a Saturday dessert workshop


an evening beer


Chinatown on a Sunday


an uncrowded pool


shopping to retro tunes


an hour on my yoga mat


a good work day


returning to my roots


making and keeping a new friend


and catching up with old ones


Pimm's & Lemonade


macaroons


mahjong with friends and family


a hike for the body and soul


someone to peel my prawns


an unexpected rose

*pictures not from my collection are from inmagine and http://www.flickr.com/photos/fabritz/2886638379/

"No medicine cures what happiness cannot."

"No medicine cures what happiness cannot."

When we were first deciding on the list of modules we were to take, I was adamant that I was not going to take any CCC classes. I didn't think of advertising as my cup of tea, and my plans to go to Goa preceded everything else.

By some strange twist of fate three weeks ago, I found myself in the Transcreativity workshop. In the midst of "channelizing" all the creativity; Goa travel plans and our ideas for the "leave MICA early" revolution faded away.

It could be the unstructured lessons, and how learning theories are embedded in activities like flying paper aeroplanes and playing Pepsi-Cola-1-2-3.

It could be the exercises and assignments that I actually enjoy doing and slogging over. It wasn't until I looked at my watch earlier that I realized I'd spent almost six hours in the CCC lab using Photoshop and working on the script for my ad for tomorrow's presentation. Working on ads doesn't give me the adrenaline rush working on a piece of writing does, but the creative exercises we've been doing in class come pretty close.

But most of all, it could be the CCC students. Perhaps I haven't known them long enough to be an accurate judge of their characters, but in the weeks I've spent in their company, I am constantly amazed by their unpretentiousness and what I like to believe is intrinsic goodness.

For the first time since my first week in India, I feel genuine contentment and exuberance, and so much happiness bubbling over. I am a ray of sunshine again.

Meanwhile, here are the snaps Himanshu, Rishit and I took for our assignment - to take photos representing certain key words - yesterday.


Hierarchy.


Khallas, which means ultimate in Hindi.


Solitude. That's Himanshu, haha.


Contrast.


Masti, which means fun.


This was also a shot for masti, but we had to make an ad and this was what I came up with. Not fantastic, but I'm still learning. :)

Syrius doesn't seem to dim.

Syrius doesn't seem to dim.
music: bonnie mckee - somebody

Erwin and Nuria have had their what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here moments, and now that the sheer incredulity of the education system here has set in, I suppose it is my turn to grapple with this vague turmoil.

What the hell am I doing here? Half the time we have no idea what they are talking about in classes, and the only module I find semi-gratifying is Services Marketing, which throws up terms I vaguely remember from my Hospitality Marketing days.

Everyday feels like an extended holiday, while every other class we have to attend feels like a temporary jail term.

The familiar warmth of my bed I miss in the moments after I awake in the dark, muddled and disoriented from dreams.

Yet, I am saved from drowning in this land of paradoxes by unexpected moments of truth.

Each time I huddle up a little more in my jacket when the cold cuts a little too deep, I am thankful that having lived 21 years in the tropics complaining about the sun, I now finally appreciate the rays of warmth it provides in unrelenting cold. And however satisfying a cup of hot Milo can be on a rainy day in Singapore, it would never come close to the pleasure of sipping hot chai on a cold Indian winter's night.

Each time I laugh out loud, be it during yet another MICA-blasting session with the French at Chhota or while reading an absurd email from Jinli; I am reminded of how little I laugh back in Singapore, and how minuscule the pleasure I drew out from each laugh. Getting stripped down to the basics has taught me the forgotten pleasures of the very basics.

And just yesterday, I stood in the biting breeze with my hands tucked snugly into my pockets, learning to identify the stars in the midnight sky and losing track of time while listening to the legends of Orion.

I'd never reflected and realized how I had actually lived my life around the clock back in Singapore. Here in India, time is something remembered on hindsight.

And it is with almost breathless liberation that I am embracing this timeless culture, for life now is about living in the moment, and not for the next. And each moment lived is one lived in vivacity.



So, what the hell am I doing here?

I'm learning how to live life, the proper way. And frankly, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

Merry Christmas, with love.

Merry Christmas, with love.

Christmas 2006 was spent in the chilly winds of Bangkok, where (I can now admit) I was delaying having to heal my battered heart. It's been a trying year, but I've finally arrived at where I wanted, stronger and more whole than I have ever been. And that is more than enough reason to give thanks this holiday season.

As I'm leaving in a couple of days, I brought Christmas home this year and hosted two gatherings. The eve of the eve with the CS bunch also served as a final gathering before we all left for our respective exchange countries.


Bacon-wrapped asparagus, baked penne with italian sausages and apricot pork chops. A huge thank you to Cheryl, Daph and Lays for helping me out in the kitchen.







Christmas Eve was particularly meaningful this year, for it was spent in the company of dear friends, most of them people I grew up with. There was the Spottiswoode and ZPS gang, my bitch, my running/beaching bud, and my yoga/holiday/new-age girlfriend.




Baked mushrooms with feta cheese and Kar Ern's mushroom soup for starters, baked pork chops with apples for the main.


Then there was the potato salad Lanxi and Ern tossed, as well as the melt-in-the-mouth brownie I am exceptionally proud of! Check out our makeshift Christmas tree... sure gives a whole new meaning to presents under the tree!

And being our usual quarrelsome selves, bitch and I just had to spar while doing the dishes. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard doing the dishes before. Here's Kenrick's document of the fiasco.


Ceci and Lanxi had to come mediate. Haha.




Gift exchange was chaos!


Bitch with the sexy thong I got her, Ken giving two thumbs up to the cardigan I got him, Ken again this time posing with the monkey boxers Ceci got him, and Chun Huat dubiously eyeing his pink piglet boxers.



While the rest got trigger happy, I got tarot happy with the deck Ceci got me. Nothing malicious, just intuitive, and I gave everybody free readings!





The ZPS bunch stayed on, and we dug up and laughed at my primary school autograph book entries.
Me (to Ken): Who's David Tan?
Ken: Who?
Me: You wrote that he's your favourite schoolmate.
Ken (looking distressed): HUH? Who's David Tan???

And guess what CH wrote in my Tweety Bird autograph book? "I hate Tweety." HAHA. What a Christmas eve.

After getting stuffed at the family lunch earlier today, I trudged ('cos of the heavy belly) down to Borders Bistro to catch up with Karin who's back from Aussieland.


Ceci and I then zipped up to Cedele for dinner with Jemo, who gamely fed my final craving of Cedele and beef.

I love Christmas.



Happy holidays everybody!