No Happy Endings

You know those romance flicks that's bittersweet? As in the story's so romantic but then it doesn't come with a happy ending because the characters have to part ways in the end. That somewhat hollow feeling I felt after the movie's over always sunk deep. Sometimes I carry it with me for weeks or months. Perhaps because deep down, I felt that ending is mine. That no matter how beautiful the love story is, I'll never have a happy ending. Maybe that's how we are now, forced to let go because out paths no longer meet.

(Listening to: Flaws by Vancouver Sleep Clinic, OST Before We Go)

Synchronicity #3: When You Left

When you left last time, we shared long hugs and kisses. And I swear I could still smell your scent in my place for a few days after you walked out the door. Like a taste that lingered, refusing to dissipate. Like a phantom that wandered, not wanting to disappear.

What we thought was goodbye, was not.

Synchronicity happened once more and we crossed path again, albeit very briefly. And I found my world to be shaken once more, out of its equilibrium. Such is your power on me, such is your charm on me.

And then came another goodbye.

When you left this time, we shared long hugs and kisses. I rest my head on your shoulder, on the nook just under your neck that held my hopes and unspoken words. Your skin and beard brushed softly against my nose, and I breathe in deeply. The familiar faint scent of your cologne comforted me.

I breathe in deeply just to take it all in, in an attempt to absorb the moment more. This fleeting moment that may not come again. The world was on a standstill for a while, and I secretly wished it would stand still forever, if not for longer.

"You take care." You whispered softly into my ear, your voice caressing my soul, leaving an echo in my mind. 

When you left this time, we shared long hugs and kisses. And I was left wondering when will we sync again, as you walk away with another piece of me.

Goodbye. Perhaps this time it's forever.

Synchronicity #2: Tomorrow Will Be Better

I will savour the time we spent together. The few hours when we talked about this and that, when you showed me pictures of your sister riding a horse and of your dad doing silly moves on a motorbike because he was not pleased by you and your brother teasing him.

I will relive the time we spent together. The few hours when our lips met and our desire led us to explore each other, hungry for one another. When I feel your skin against mine, your fingers linking with mine. Your warm breath caressing the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine as my blood rushed faster to make me feel dizzy, the air feels clammy as we find rapture and ecstasy in each other’s arms.

Tomorrow will be better because I have these beautiful moments to remember. Even though you're no longer here.

If it's meant to be, it will be

Synchronicity #1: Hurricane

To the boy who came and go like a hurricane,

I dreamt of you.

I dreamt of you for two nights in a row. I was not sure what they were about. I only remembered you being in them. It was not a sad dream I suppose, as I woke up without feeling blue, but with just a thought:

"I wish you well."

I wish you well wherever you are, whatever you do. Even though you went silent and sent no words back, I wish you well still.

You told me that all your travels to the mountains and the remote places didn't make you find yourself. "No. That's bullshit," you said with a soft chuckle and with what I thought was a distant gaze.

But I know that you went out in search for something. And I hope you'll find whatever it is that you're looking for, beneath all the hard rocks, the blanket of snow, and the high peaks.

I am thankful we came across each other's path and embraced the encounter with fire in our souls, the heat burning down from our lips to our veins.

"Grab life by the horns and just ride it!" You told me when we saw each other for the last time. You repeated it twice, it felt as if you were saying that to convince yourself too.

You came and go like a hurricane. It was no coincidence. It was synchronicity.

And I was never the same again.

Why I Travel

I think nowadays, as we are living in such an open world where access to information and communication is so easy, it is understandable that the desire to travel and to see the world increases. To explore is a basic instinct for human, and frequent exposure to traveling in this modern world only accelerates it further.

Personally, I have always dreamed of exploring from a very young age, starting with my interest in Greek and Egyptian myths. And I still vividly remember, one day when I was perhaps about 12 or 13 years old, I saw a mesmerising footage of Provence on TV and fell so desperately in love with its lush lavender fields and luscious mimosa trees. I have yet to visit it, unfortunately, but it has always been on the bucket list, waiting to be ticked off at the right moment.

Traveling or rather, the desire to travel, has become so popular nowadays that some people look at it in a bitter (or jealous?) way, saying that it is another way to show off or boast of your success, etc. In some parts, it is probably true, but why bother evaluating one's reason or need to travel? Some people travel to shop, some to do sport, some to see concerts. To each their own. 

I travel for several reasons, and here are some of them:

1. To eat.
I seek to experience new things and meet new people, and food is a big part of it. A bowl of a simple local dish could hold a deep and rich story of culture. And you bond over food, be it with the old uncle who manned the stall or with fellow strangers next to you. When you've finished your meal, sometimes you're left with a full stomach, a warmed heart, and a broader mind.

Clockwise from top left: Gurney Drive hawker's food in Penang (Aug 2013), tapas at The Bell Brook in Hong Kong (Nov 2013), dimsum in Hong Kong (July 2013), Beach Road prawn mee in Singapore (Nov 2013)

2. To discover the gift of gab.
I often travel alone and while this sounds depressing for some people, I like the solitude it provides, not to mention the amount of control I have over my itinerary (yes, admittedly, I am a mild control freak). Anyone who knows me well would say that I am a quiet and reserved person. I may look outgoing or talkative, but it's a part of me that I've trained in order to do my job. But sometimes on a trip, if I let myself go for a bit and relax, I could bond with the people I meet along the way. These small conversations could lead to some valuable insights and interesting stories.

Paris (May 2011)

This chic Parisian lady (look at her shoes, her hair, her well groomed Yorkshire Terrier!) was sitting alone on the bench when I sat down, and she started talking to me when she saw my Annick Goutal paper bag. "That is a very lovely perfume, which one did you get?" "Violet," I replied. "I have Gardenia," she said with a smile. A bottle of perfume could spark a story, and I kind of regretted not staying a bit longer to chat with her. I feel like there could be a deeper story hidden within.

Hazel & Hershey, Hong Kong (Sept 2013)

I was hanging out with an old friend at a small specialty coffee shop around Wan Chai area, when I got into a light discussion about chemex, aeropress, and moka pot with an Italian guy next to me and the owner of the coffee shop, who happens to be one of the top barista in HK. What followed next was two cups of coffee "samples" on the house. It was not the free coffee that lifted up my spirit that day but the discovery of kindness in strangers (and getting some valuable information about coffee didn't hurt either). It serves to remind me that it always pays to be friendly and sincere to the people you meet along your journey.

3. To be lost and to find myself.
Ultimately, I think this is it. Call me a hopeless romantic. Thus why I don't mind traveling solo for now, while I wait (and look) for the right travel partner to share my experiences with. For there is this strong need to be lost and a yearning to be found harboured inside of me.

The Elevator

Ever wondered why, when you step into an elevator full of strangers, they will either look up at the moving floor indicators or look down to their shoes (or phones). Some would look nervous, hoping to arrive at their designated floor soon; or they will just ignore the surroundings by being transfixed to their gadgets. Sometimes I do this too. 

Somehow I feel like this applies in life too. We are too busy looking up (at the future), worrying about what will happen and how soon will it happen; or we are too busy looking down (at the past), thinking about the what ifs and the shoulda coulda woulda. We ignore the present because it can feel too small and too suffocating.  

Anyway, back to the elevator. Is it the small space that makes people feel awkward and nervous? But if I smile at a stranger, he/she would probably think I'm crazy or suspicious or worse, flirtatious.

Blanche

"The idea of Blanche is, as the name suggests, built around the perception of the colour white, in an effort to capture untainted innocence." -Ben Gorham, founder of Byredo

2013 has been great for me. Not fantastic, but I am grateful. I finally have my own space where I can nest in and where I can cook my stress away. I traveled quite often and got a chance to visit not just one, but two new places.  Work has been wonderfully challenging, despite its ups and downs. My health has hit some low points but I still laughed a lot. I've met new people and made new friendships, enlarging my social circle and making me richer. 

And even though love has not made its way to stay, I crossed path with a beautiful stranger who filled my sky with fireworks; briefly yet beautifully.

As we are nearing the end of 2013, I wish to start the new year with a fresh and pure approach. Clean and crisp white pages set for more exciting stories of travel, laughter, love, and adventure. Paint it red, paint green, paint it black, paint it with rainbow; life in 2014 will be vividly colorful.

Cooking for One

Asparagus a la Flamande and pasta in tomato mascarpone sauce with lots of basil

"You have time to cook?" 

This is a question I've heard too often. Some people always wonder how I managed to have time to cook or rather, why I want to invest that much time (in cooking). Especially because I live alone and I often come home late from work. "Aren't you tired?" they would later ask. 

Well, the answer is pretty simple: I like to spend some time in cooking my meals for therapeutic reasons.

Some people find solace after a long day in reading, sleeping, taking a long bath, or spending time with their kids or loved ones; I happen to find it in the kitchen among the spices and knifes (although a long hot bath is always welcomed, sadly I don't own a bath tub and even if I do, my water bill will give me more headache).

Besides, cooking a good meal for yourself is usually cheaper than eating out. And eating good food makes me feel good; it sparks this warm fuzzy feeling inside, like a worn out sweater you're comfortable with. 

I don't see why dining alone should be a frightening thing. A lot of people would associate it with being lonely, so they won't bother cooking anything elaborate (or at all). On the contrary, eating alone allows me to experiment freely with my food, whether it turns out to be extraordinary or just plain weird and unappetizing for some people. And I do love to set my food properly and make it look chic and fine dining-ish, complete with a nice set of cutlery and a glass of wine. 

After spending time in prepping and cooking a meal, I'd sit down and savor it slowly (after I took pictures of course), while reading a book, or thinking of my agenda or to do list for the next day, or better, what I should cook. This is one of my solitary high.

Though there are days when I would just cook a pack of instant noodle or eat toast with jam on the kitchen counter for a meal alone, I still feel content. 

Because being alone is not bad at all. If anything, it makes you have time to explore yourself, get to know yourself better, and to have lots of me-time. Savor it, don't resent it. Embrace it, don't deny it. Because at the end of the day, we'll be alone anyway, one way or another; and if you can't enjoy being with yourself, then how could anyone else enjoy being around you?

Latte Wisdom #4

Comfort is... the crisp smell of new sheet. The warm smell of freshly baked bread. The heavenly smell of morning coffee. The exotic scent of a burning aromatherapy candle. Or the comforting scent of your loved one's cologne.

Heck, comfort is having a good sense of smell.

Good Morning, You...

"May your joys be as bright as the morning, and your sorrows merely be shadows that fade in the sunlight of love. May you have enough happiness to keep you sweet, enough trials to keep you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to keep you happy, enough failure to keep you humble, enough success to keep you eager, enough friends to give you comfort, enough faith and courage in yourself to banish sadness, enough wealth to meet your needs and one thing more; enough determination to make each day a wonderful day than the one before." -Irish blessing

The Broken Lid

I was cleaning up my toiletries one day when I accidentally dropped the lid of a ceramic pot that I used for storing cotton pads. It split and broke into two pieces, and I stood there for a millisecond to ponder on this small incident.

I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice if there's someone who could fix this for me?" I know it's an easy job--just glue it on and get it over with--but I was implying on a bigger part, in a bigger picture. I used to have a "handyman" around. He would offer to help fix things as he is fond of building things and fixing stuffs. After he's gone, there's basically no one around to extend a hand or ask for help. 

I am alone.

This feeling became more obvious when I moved into my apartment. Even though I've been living alone for the past few years inside my small cramped rented room, being alone in a real living space (read: small apartment for one) is somewhat a bit different. Not just because I get to have a kitchen, a fridge, a proper bathroom, and so on, but also because I have to manage most household chores by myself. Last week, I managed to install the gas despite my paranoia and my being clueless, and earlier today I managed to lift and place a 19 liter water gallon into the dispenser (and mopped the flooded floor afterwards).

When I told my friend about my difficulties with the water gallon, he said, "Well, that's why most women get married. So that someone could lift it up for them." I chuckled at his sarcasm but I couldn't help thinking how true his words were.

Yes, I do want someone to be there for me to help with things. Fixing things, building things, and whatnot's. But most importantly, I want someone who could help me fix myself. Someone who would be there to hold me in his arms and fix my wings (or tail) when I am broken. Someone who would lift me up and clean my wounds when I tripped and fall along the way. Someone to hug me every morning before the day starts and to kiss me every night when the day ends. Someone who would hold my hand as we walk along side by side, despite the arguments and disagreements.

I'm comfortable being alone but I can't say that I like it all the time. Then again, who does? Even the most cynical and skeptical of the bunch don't enjoy it deep down (but they won't admit it of course, they'd say, "Who needs love? Not I."*). But for the moment, until my next "handyman" comes, alone will have to do. Alone will be fine.

If I managed to do some heavy chores by myself, then I sure as hell can endure more. 


* "Oooh, darling, who needs love? Who needs a heaven up above? Who needs the clouds in the sky, not I." (Who Needs Love - Razorlight)

Lull Me to Sleep

"I love sleep. My life has a tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?" -Ernest Hemingway

Indeed, Mr. Hemingway. Perhaps that's why I have trouble waking up every morning? (Excuses for the sloth). For now, I feel like I sleep with my eyes open and live the day with my eyes closed. As much as I want to see and feel everything, there are days when I long for nothing more than to live inside my dreams, even though I hardly remember any of them.

Lost and Found

Perhaps all is not gone.

This set of pretty rings has been missing for around a year before it finally reappeared last night. I remembered feeling very upset when I lost it, not just because I love it but also because it was a gift from someone I cared about and vice versa--or so I thought.

Fast forward to present day, I found it inside a shoe box while I was cleaning up my room to move into my new apartment. Funny enough, I've been opening that box quite frequently to grab the shoes, but have never seen the rings laying inside. Despite the fact that today, I resented the giver, I am reminded again that sometimes good things can pop up in the most unexpected places, when you least expected it.

Maybe I should have more faith and not give up too easily on life and love.  

Latte Wisdom #3

Some things in life are like ice cream. You enjoy it fast before it melts, and it gives you an instant temporary joy or happiness.

Salted caramel ice cream from La Maison du Chocolat, Hong Kong, 2011

Latte Wisdom #2

When you were 17 and you listened to a cheesy love song, you'd sigh and think, "Oh, how sweet! I want a love like that." Fast forward to 30 and you'd probably think, "What the eff is this guy rambling about?"

If I ever got married, my wedding song would be Depeche Mode's Enjoy The Silence.

2013: A Late Hello

I'm not am avid believer of "Starting Fresh on New Year" or "The New Year Brings Forth a New Chapter" or all those other familiar jargons you often see or hear come new year's eve. Life goes on anyway, whether you want to move forward or not, and everyday is a new day. You can start fresh anytime, so why wait 'til January 1st?

Positivity is also not written on my book nowadays. I'm as skeptical and cynical as a grumpy old lady who always complained about her neighbour. I always say that I'm a realistic person, but who are we kidding here? I am a dreamer just like many people out there. And if a dream of a perfect life (or love) is ridiculously impossible, then let's just dream of exploring and discovering. It is easier and more viable.

"The #resolution is to travel more. Years may change, but this never changed."

That was one of the things I wrote on my Path, shortly after we entered the new year. This may not be a real resolution, this could be just a wish that I've harboured all my life, ever since I learnt about the power of dreaming, the rush of exploring, and the satisfaction of discovering.  

So, in 2013, let's go places. Alone or with company, it doesn't matter--I will go places.

Longing for Silence

There are times when 
words are unnecessary,
superfluous and empty.

When silence is stronger,
holding more meanings
than a flood of words.

A silence that is comforting,
not awkward.
A silence that is warm,
not cold.

A silence that connects,
not detaches.
A silence that binds,
not breaks.

A silence that's intimate,
not strange.
A silence that's assuring,
not implausible.

And I long for that silence,
a loving silence.

Paris, 2011

One day, I'll find someone who will sit silently with me in a coffee shop. Where we would both be absorbed in our own books, lost in our own worlds, without ever feeling distant. Because we both know that we're connected in a way no words can describe, tied and secured by an invisible cord called "intimacy".

One day.

Running OS Ver 3.0

September 1st, 2012, was marked as the launching day of my OS ver 3.0.

Yep, I just got upgraded.

I entered 2012 wearily, with a slight hint of paranoia and panic. I'm sure most women can relate to this feeling. Tis the age where traditional society labels you as "old", and if you're single, an "old spinster". In a world where a woman's success is not valid unless she's married and accomplishment means "raising a family", career and practically other areas in life--no matter how important--are secondary. What matters is getting hitched and then procreate. As if women are bred into this world solely to become a baby factory.

After coming out of a 2.5 years relationship, just a few months before my birthday--with a very bitter aftertaste--I initially thought that my world would crumble. After all, I'm hitting 30 with no "future spouse" in sight. Dreams were shattered, hopes were broken, and memories were stained. I became a cynic once more, bitter in every sense--convinced that I would be alone for the rest of my life.

And yet when that day finally arrived, I only felt a certain stillness. Acceptance, perhaps, of what was meant to be. Common sense returned to give a clearer view of the big picture. And I remembered feeling free--a happiness like I've never felt before for the past year, when the relationship had already begun falling apart. I celebrated my big 3.0 with good friends and kicked into the new decade in a pair of killer heels (which I got from the ex but were too nice to be thrown away).

I'm a single 30 years old woman with a bright career, a loving family, and a band of supportive friends. Yes, I feel lonely sometimes--perhaps quite often--but it doesn't necessarily mean that I'm not happy. On the contrary, I'm happy with my choices and happy with where I am right now. Maybe not fulfilled nor content yet, but I don't feel miserable.

And that's more than enough.

Thank you, Boss, for the very thoughtful gift

Latte Wisdom #1

As you grow older, you realize a "hunch" may not be just a hunch, but a memo from your experience.

It's nice to have something to look forward to, no matter how fragile or temporary it is.

When bad things happen to good people, it doesn't just "happen for a reason". It's just the B* (life) throwing sh*t at you. And that's that. If I see the perpetrator got hit by a lighting, then I'll admit there's a "hikmah" behind it. Wanna preach me about "hikmah"? Get me a bus so I can run over the asshole. We'll talk then.

When Life Begins at Seventeen

They say that all good things come to an end. Or that the end of something is the beginning of something new. And that everything happens for a reason.

But still, when it happens -in a totally unexpected way- it sucks. And it hurts.

Back in September 2007, when I first set my foot in this place, a total stranger to the fashion/media industry, I was half-expecting to be entering a world filled with snobs, bitches, cat fights, and all those other negative things that'd pop in one's mind when one hears the word 'fashion magazine' (remember the movie The Devil Wears Prada?). As a coward who's not really into confrontations, I was naturally (very) nervous albeit feeling very excited and a bit giddy too.

But what I found was a place filled with some of the sweetest people ever: a wonderful boss and fabulous colleagues. After a few trials and errors in the working world, I finally found my place. I felt at home, at ease, and comfortable -perhaps a tad too much.

Then one sunny day, sometime around last week, our BOD called us all in to tell us that they will no longer keep our magazine alive. We all froze. Though we've heard of the rumors and picked up some hints beforehand, it was still a hard blow. That day became a day filled with tears -not out of fear of losing our jobs, but more out of fear of leaving this family and nest of ours.

I still think that not everyone is as lucky as I am, to be able to found a family like this in the (sometimes) cruel working world. I am blessed indeed, and will forever be grateful for that.

Life does begin at Seventeen for me, in a way.

During rehearsal for Seventeen Exclusimode 2009

This place has given me the most exciting two years. Two years filled with too much laughter and some tears (of joy, sadness, or stress). Two years of learning, failing, and succeeding. Two years of overcoming some ups and downs. Two years of working with the best colleagues who later become some of the most wonderful friends.

Two years made into a colorful chapter in my life. 

Yes, perhaps the time has come for me and my colleagues to leave our nest. Sad really, that it has to end in a rather abrupt and tragic way. But maybe it is time to fly, to challenge ourselves more, and to shine brighter.

Thank you all, for making my time here so sweetly memorable. We shall meet again of course, though in a slightly different way (and place). But there will always be the lunch breaks, coffee breaks, ciggy breaks, and after office hours to catch up with each other.

For this is not farewell, but merely a goodbye.

 Our last issue, on a cupcake

I will also miss this corner of mine dearly.. 

where I've had my (many) coffees in front of my lousy PC