Lullanotes

I received a phone call this morning from a friend residing in Canada, wishing me an advanced happy birthday and we caught up for an hour. 

And it's been 12 years since my last post here. 

Pearls are a symbol of class and grace and much of its fame can be attributed to Coco Chanel's love for fabulosity, incorporating them into her signature look.

Today, I all but dragged my coworker into this jewellery shop aptly named as "The Jewellery Shop" in a shopping centre next to our office after work. I had spied this pearl pendant set in white gold and tiny delicate diamonds in the window display for months walking to and fro the shop during lunch but hadn't had the inclination or courage to walk into the shop to ask for the price.

"Why do you like pearls?" she asked.

I don't have the exact answer except that I know that when it comes to buying expensive pieces of jewellery, I am always thoughtful of my purchases. The last thing you want to do is to feel like you are being saddled with a really expensive purchase that has no resale value and it just ends up as an unloved and ugly heirloom. I always think precious stones like diamonds and sapphires are oh so pretty but are also useless. The only ones which are worth anything when they change hands are those of superb quality and cut and are big as a pigeon's egg but chances are ... normal people like you and me cannot afford them anyway.

So here's what in my wishlist of jewellery I'll like to have at some point in time:

- a pair of diamond solitaire earrings or diamond hoops
- a pair of pearl earrings
- a diamond tennis bracelet
- a plain bangle
- a slim ring with a row of encrusted tiny diamonds
- a pearl pendant and a white gold chain
- a strand of pearls
- a gold necklace with a small heart-shaped pendant or a gold locket

I've started to acquire some of these already, mostly through reselling older and outdated pieces of gold jewellery given by my grandmother and mother for 80% of its value and then topping up some to buy the desired pieces. I feel that the pieces of jewellery in the list above are timeless classic pieces that will transcend time, fashion and generations and they are very versatile. Each of them will lend an air of simple and understated elegance to my outfit of the day. That being said, some of them are quite costly and will take some time before I manage to own them but I don't usually look outside of this list to buy something on a whim and that can only be a good thing. Coming back to the pearl pendant, I haven't gone actively searching, leaving it to Fate and trusting each of them will find its way to me in its own little way.

So it sat at the window display was begging me for a second look for months but I didn't relent. There were all sorts of pearl jewellery by the display window but this pearl pendant was the only one which caught the corner of my eye as I hurried by. Something told me that it would be just right but I wasn't sure if I had the means to. The shop looked expensive and is located in a mall not known for affordability. I finally walked into the shop and asked for the shopkeeper to show it to me. I deliberated over different pieces, trying each design carefully and I went with an open heart, preparing to walk away if it didn't feel right. In the end, I settled for my original choice. Actually I wasn't quite convinced it was The One but months of pent-up longing made me lay down my debit card anyway which turned out to be quite fortunate because the moment I brought it home and had the time to inspect it thoroughly, I fell in love with it. The setting was nice, the weight of the pearl felt really solid in my palm, it had a lustre that some cheaper ones in the shop didn't have, it was the right size and from afar, it looked like a luminous teardrop sitting on my throat, glowing from within.

In time to come, I would probably have a strand of pearls but for now, the one I have is age appropriate and is a lone symbol of better things to come. Suddenly I am not afraid of growing old anymore, if only I can age with grace.

My friend, Greta and I intended fully to go Greece this year and bask in the warmth of the Santorini sun and hot greek males. We were talking about it for months but yet in a single night, our plan took a drastic change and we are now headed for Bhutan.

In my impression, Bhutan is this country which has a visitor quota and that makes it incredibly expensive to travel there but it must have been a misconception or it had opened up its policy in recent years because you can now travel to Bhutan as long as you meet certain criteria such as spending a minimum amount in Bhutan per day.

The one thing that I realize at my age is that it is hard to find travel partners. A lot of my friends are married, some with kids and others have their boyfriends and the scant few who are free to travel want to go somewhere else that you don't want to go or had already been so I learnt to grab opportunities when the right travel partner comes along. Also, big cities with glittering neon lights are nice but having travelled to four of them last year, I crave for a getaway that has no shopping temptations and to find a little peace and quiet within myself. The mention of 'Bhutan' could not have come at a more opportune time.

Tiger's Nest, Bhutan (awesome picture stolen from here)
I'm just marvelling about how everything seems to fall into the right place at the right time. Last year, I read about Baratunde Thurston's great disconnect and the seed to do the same took root in a corner of my mind. I wanted to go somewhere and leave things behind but I didn't know where to go and when is a good time to go. Now that the subject of Bhutan came up, the seed started sprouting. What better place is there to breathe in fresh air, go back in time to the simple life and share the happiness that Bhutanese do? I am born Taoist but am a Buddhist by belief so I've always wanted to experience such a cultural and spiritual place. My first thought was Tibet but seeing how my friend had to fly back on the 2nd day of her trip due to altitude sickness, I was hesitant to commit. Bhutan is of a lower elevation than Tibet and according to the tour guide, it is at a level which is comfortable enough for most visitors not to suffer prolonged effects. I also imagined snapping great pictures of Bhutan. I cannot call myself an amateur photographer but there is a sense of gratification in having taken beautiful pictures. When they come out nice, it makes me happy so Bhutan is a good place to indulge my trigger happy fingers. The time period I am going coincides with the Talo and Paro Tsechu festivals so there will be plenty of photo opportunities. Tell me, given all the reasons above, does it not seem like a calling?

We are making our initial deposit tomorrow at the tour agency then we can start to be properly excited for the next 2 over months!

It was the eve of a public holiday so The Boy and I headed to the airport at night to lounge. We stay in the eastern part of Singapore and the Singapore Changi airport is very accessible from both our homes by car. Let's face it. Singapore is miniscule. Everywhere is accessible when the traffic jam doesn't hit. Except it does and quite a lot, especially on the eve of a public holiday.

It is so very coincidental that McDonalds was crowded (or maybe not that coincidental since it is always crowded). We then wanted to make our way to Swensens even though in our heart we knew that the queue is just going to be as dismaying but who should come out from the Arrival Hall was one of The Boy's longtime friend. He is an air steward and had returned from a flight. For the sake of convenience, we shall call him Mr. Wise Man.

Mr. Wise Man agreed to join us for coffee and we started to talk about his travels and also about luxury items in which The Boy had no idea of. He did occasionally contribute by wrinkling his nose in disapproval. In our conversation, we started talking about our biggest ticket item. For me, it was my Prada Bauletto Bag in Saffiano leather. For Mr. Wise Man, it was his Cartier watch. For The Boy, if we exclude the car, apartment and gadgets, he doesn't really spend on any big ticket luxury items. Because the Prada bag for me, was an expensive purchase, I've only brought it out once and even then, I found myself coddling it by not doing what I usually do - which is to leave it on the floor and I examined it for invisible scratches ever so often. Mr. Wise Man said something that made sense.

You should own your things and not let your things own you.

If it should have scratches, so be it. Things are meant to be enjoyed and used. There is no point to owning something and then baby-ing it because then, the fear of using it and accidentally destroying it becomes too great. There is much truth in that. There is satisfaction in knowing that books get dogeared and wrinkled because I've read it over and over again. I love the creases in the leather bags I've often carried around because every little crease is an indication that it has been used and over time, the leather bags grew a character of their own.


My preciousssss ....
So this is what I am bringing away with me today from our little chat. Love your things but learn to enjoy them too.

There is something liberating about sky watching. The wide expanse of sky makes me feel that my heart has to stretch further and wider too just to take the sight of it all in. I love to watch out for interesting cloud formations and gauge if there is enough blue in the sky to make the sailor a pair of pants. I know I sound completely dopey with the last sentence but those who had been an Enid Blyton fan would have known very well what I meant indeed.

It was one of those Sundays that I thought I was going to be going through the humdrum of a regular Sunday activity - laundry when I glanced outside the window. What I saw made me drop my clothes and raced for the phone camera and I captured this. Fast as it came, it was gone within the next five minutes.

Picture unfiltered by Instagram
Somewhere, someone knew I had a lifelong desire to see the Aurora Borealis but it is not quite the time to fulfill my dream yet ... so it brought Aurora Borealis to me.

I love my designer bags, accessories and clothes as much as a lot of other women I've seen. As much as the neighbour down the corridor likes her plant, as much as the man in the nice shirt loves his shiny car and as much as my mother whoops in joy at supermarket sales. It's frivolous, I give you that but honestly, I find no shame in it. I work hard to finance my desires and I will not justify that it is a good way of spending hard-earned dosh but it's my money, I am allowed to be careless with it (but I want to assure you I wish I didn't).

No, it is not a post at flaunting whatever little I have. I've been using designer wallets for a long time because I always feel that if I have to splurge on designer anything, wallets are the best cost-per-wear items to own as one doesn't change her wallet everyday and usually it lasts for at least a good 2 - 3 years if not much longer. However I've been looking at minimizing the things that I bring outside with me. I used to step out of the house carrying the world with me in a giant tote. In this huge bag, you could find every single convenience from batteries to another pair of flats and extra underwear to full size perfume to a plastic fan. Since then, I've come a long way and managed to pair down to the absolute essentials ‒ iPad, mobile charger for my constantly dying phone, minimal makeup kit, keys, phone and a wallet. I even managed to squeeze these into a crossbody bag ... except for the wallet. I had these thick, fat wallets and my love for leather didn't help.

It was frustrating because although the leather was soft and smoochy and the brand shines through in uniformly spaced out letters, it was something I felt I could scale back on in size on but foolhardily refused to. Anyway, to cut the long story short, there came this day I just wanted things to be simple. I just wanted to bring out a fully charged phone, a wallet and house keys and stuff them into this mini clutch so I dug around, found the Coach Poppy Graffiti Wristlet that a few of my friends had given to me for my 30th birthday and decided to use it.

Instead, I found Freedom. The purse was utilitarian. It had a large zipped compartment which consisted of 4 spacious card slots and a coin compartment. There was also an exterior slot and it had straps. The spacious card slots were important because I had to carry my debit and credit cards, personal identification card and some discount cards. Each card slot could fit 2 cards at least and the last one could probably fit four. For the bills, I just put it in the main compartment and my coins are neatly stashed into the inner zipped compartment. The outer slot was important for putting my subway card which I used to lose on a very regular basis because I would not put it in my bulky wallet with my other cards. The best part is of course the detachable straps. Even if I had an abyss for a bag, I could detach the straps and hang it around the handle of the bag and never lose my wallet in my mess again. It was patent and I never feared getting it dirty because just a wet wipe would clean it up very nicely. All those crap stuffed in the little pink purse and it didn't look like it held the universe. It was still slim and sleek plus I genuinely also love it for the sentimental value. I stopped using my other more expensive wallet but I didn't miss it, especially now it fits perfectly into my smallest of bags and I didn't have to juggle a bowl of noodles, a drink and on top of it, a bulky wallet during lunch.

Maybe the same applies in Life itself. Perhaps we overthink the amount of things we need in our life and over-emphasize on what we thought was important and how others look at us. It turned out what I was looking for in a wallet wasn't something prestigious or even extremely well-crafted in the finest material. I was looking for something useful, befitting of my lifestyle and the sentimental value was only a reason to love it even more.

The first time I saw this Youtube video by Dove, I like it a lot. The main reasons being:

1. They are not trying too hard to sell me, as a viewer, anything. So that in itself, I feel, gives them a lot more credibility. If they had ended with something remotely like "Buy Dove to make your natural beauty shine through!" (yes I made it up), I would have trashed the video and not give it any more thought.

2. It has a really positive message behind it which is asking women to look at themselves more kindly and honestly, I don't think people do it enough. I am guilty of this too.

3. There was attention to details like the fact that they didn't just engage a random artist to sketch but an FBI trained forensic artist who is used to sketching based on descriptions and have tons of experience in that area.

It was also interesting to see other people's point of view regarding the video. jazzylittledrops felt uncomfortable because she felt there was too little diversity in the choice of their subjects and which I tend to agree. I would have appreciated if they also used someone who is on the bigger side or someone who is awkward etc ... you get my point. She was also disturbed that one woman at the end said "I should be more grateful of my natural beauty. It impacts the choices and the friends we make, the jobs we go out for, they way we treat our children, it impacts everything. It couldn’t be more critical to your happiness." and she felt that too much emphasis is placed on the physical appearance and we all know that how we are as humans and the roles we play to others are so much more than that. I don't feel quite the same in this aspect. I think the sentence "I should be more grateful of my natural beauty" is not only pertaining to external beauty but also the outlook that she views herself. Because she has a lower sense of worth in her physical appearance, she is riddled with an inferiority complex that affects how she deals with people and the world. I know I've done things like dressing myself up for no special occasion or putting on a new lipstick colour and telling myself I am beautiful on random days and it just felt like the day is sunnier, I walk with a spring in my steps and I smile more easily. On the days I think I look crap unpresentable, it ultimately made me feel bad about myself and the day was spent trying to avoid contact with people and rushing home earlier to wallow in my own company.

(No offense to you I hope, jazzylittledrops! It wasn't particularly meant to single you out but your post gave me food for thought.)

Why don't you watch it and judge the video for yourself according to how you feel? I know I spent some time thinking on what I would have told the forensic artist if I was the subject of interest.

You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself.
― Gaston Leroux, 'The Phantom of the Opera'

I was fourteen when 'The Phantom of the Opera' came to Singapore. My best friend then, let's call her WL, asked me if I would be interested to watch it with her. I remembered that the Category 1 tickets were about SGD128 then and Category 2 tickets were at SGD90. Being in secondary school and having parents who did not understand my interest in musicals and frankly with no means to meant that I could only afford Category 2 tickets on my own then. I did not blame my parents one bit. My father was the sole bread winner and I have no doubt that they would have given me the money had they known I wanted to see it that badly. But paying for my ticket would also mean they have to scrimp and save in other ways. We tried to buy our tickets too late and by then, the only tickets available to us were the Category 1 tickets. I gave up watching the musical, telling myself that it will be back someday and I would make sure that by hook or by crook, I would get to watch it then.

Time passed by - WL and I graduated from our secondary school and went our separate ways to other institutions. She left Singapore to further her studies. She had always excelled academically and is ambitious of what Life can offer. I started work earlier than my peers and at this very moment, we are no longer friends. We lost touch, due to differences I am afraid to say, was largely my fault. I read and re-read the book till I could lift paragraphs out of it. I met my first boyfriend and fell in and out of love a few times. During particularly emotional nights, I wept, remembering of Erik's selfless love and how he died lonely and broken. I worked for different establishments. I dabbled in religion till I stumbled out of it and still, 'The Phantom of the Opera' was as elusive as his namesake, keeping me out of reach. It was to be a twelve years wait. It finally made its re-appearance in Singapore in 2007 and happy to say, I was already earning as an adult by then. I bought the most expensive ticket the day tickets went available for sales. I dressed myself beautifully and went off to the theatre to watch in rapture but what an agonizing wait it had been! Besides climbing The Great Wall of China which I had already done in 1996 on a school trip, watching 'The Phantom of the Opera' became the next biggest thing in my bucket list that time. Even if it had never made its way back to Singapore, I would have found a way to London.



'The Phantom of the Opera' is making its comeback from July 16 to August 11 this year so if that is in your bucket list, go grab your tickets from Sistic. I had already bought mine before it went on sales at Sistic. Even though I've watched it, a compelling love story that is my favourite musical still holds its undeniable magnetic appeal. Maybe one day, I will find myself seated in a West End theatre.

Karl Lagerfled's stupendous and wonderful library is to be envied
I was at home on Sunday, with no prior engagements and when it became too tough to look for a pair of lost sportshoes in the storeroom, I started hurling things out with a vengence, determined to do some cleanup.

The thing about the storeroom is that once something goes in, it rarely makes its way out since most of the time after that, you conveniently forget its existence. Just like the printer I had from way back in 1998. What was the state of art in its time had now been termed anything from being obsolete to vintage to trash. I have some kind of an underground library going on in the storeroom. That is the only place left in my cramped apartment that I can afford to still keep the books. I also wanted to go through my books to decide which one to throw and which one to keep. When I first picked up the love for reading years and years ago in my childhood, I already had the vague idea that there is nothing more beautiful than to pass a well-loved book to your child in the future, hoping that he/she will love it as much as you once had. So with this, the books collection started flourishing. Being an only child also meant that you had all the time to indulge in a world that ensures you are never really alone with the characters in the books.

Of course when I grew older, the books collection started dwindling because you get a job, the work life starts taking over. You start to date. Real dates because it is unhealthy to date any character in a book and then the momentum of social engagements pick up .. and there seems to be so many other things more important than reading. Although I read less frequently but I still had the habit of trying to read before bedtime so reading 2 books or more a month is still possible.

Then came the iPad and with it, a wonderful app called "Flipboard" which tailors news feed according to your interest. Suddenly you reach for your books less and less - literally what I call 'losing the touch'. And then I received an Amazon Kindle as a present and all hell broke loose. I saw the Kindle essentially as a saviour. If I had the room, I might even have a pedestal so I could gaze at it reverentially and deferrentially. I saw the Kindle as my answer to the pain of having limited space in life for books and the thought of being able to access so many books at my disposal while on the go is something that I could never have done with the real deal. I have never looked back since although I know that purists say that it is a different feeling to hold a book in your hand and feel your fingers run through the spine and the pages. I agree but I also have to be realistic.

Coming back to the books in the storeroom, I found it so hard to discard any book. I held it in my hand and the memories started flooding back - of me lying in my bed late at night refusing to succumb to sleep because I wanted to finish it, of it following me to countries on the plane. Every dogear or crease on the book meant that I had given a part of myself to it and it became incredibly personal. I still kept my Enid Blyton books because I relished the thought of reading my children to sleep in the future if I am ever so fortunate to have some to call my own. In the end, I gave up. The carcasses of the few books I forced myself to strew on the floor depressed me. I guessed in order to throw out books, you need to tidy up your nostalgia and put on a mask of ruthlessness to drive it to completion which was something I wasn't prepared to do yesterday.

I was working for home for the past week, which is just as well because I caught a sudden bout of flu. My nose was bulbous, red and scaly due to over-friction from the boxes of tissue I used on it and my eyes a little teary from all the sneezes resembling mini explosions racking through my frame. I would have been persona non grata wherever I go in public.

In between working and resting, when I was not too drowsy from the effects of medication, I read some news, mainly about the Manaslu avalanche in Nepal. I had been reading up on mountaineering exploits after National Geographic's April 2012 publication on Gerlinde Kaltenbrunner's K2 ascent. 2 months after in another publication, they sent up a team onto Everest and one can follow their blog that documents their near real-time journey. It is just amazing to read of men and women who took it upon themselves to scale these giants who do not intend for humans to survive in its rarefied air. I leech off the sheer willpower and the determination behind mountaineering crews who took months and years to prepare for the vertical ascent, to a place you call the top of the world to be one with the entire universe. Frankly if you are anything like me who is more than aware of my (lack of) physical capabilities ... then following the blog would be almost as close as you could get to experiencing an alpine adventure and you will be hooked too. Moreover, being National Geographic and having excellent photographers at their disposal makes one just willingly suffer bouts of visual orgasm just by going through the photo gallery.

George Mallory was famous for responding to a reporter who asked why he wanted to climb Everest: “Because it’s there.” Reporters continued to ask him variations of the question again and again. “It’s of no use”, he said. “If you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won’t see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life”.

If it is hard not to be drawn by the grandeur of this Mother Goddess of Earth by photographs and words, think how much more magnetic it would be if you are to be there physically. The lure would be impossible to ignore and I understand how many other climbers, caught by the Summit fever would be willing to risk anything when the end seems so near but yet as it is, reaching the Summit is only half the journey and means nothing if you are unable to descend safely.

Photographs are gathered from various internet sources, mainly National Geographic.
I spent my weekend finishing off Jon Krakauer's personal account of the 1996 Mount Everest disaster on my Kindle while being "bedridden".

Most Sundays I stay at home, doing nothing of absolute consequence. I would do my week's long laundry on Sunday by hand. I would give my face and body a good scrub. I would do all sorts of little mundane things that I usually wouldn't have the time to do any other day and maybe because of this reason alone, I found Sundays to be quietly fulfilling. It is a day that feels like fairydust is scattered in the air, changing the atmosphere. I feel distinctly that the usual hustle and bustle gets muted and the world seems to be set on a slow-mo. There is a playground just right below my apartment and children would shriek in joy there often but on Sundays, I do not hear them at all. Such tranquility is so rare and precious that I want to soak in its good grace.

This is one of those Sundays. To make it complete, there was a gentle drizzle to wash the city afresh of the haze that had plagued us for the past few days and all the greens outside my window are now clean and waving happily in the wind again.

My Birthday Cake taken on my 29th
I think I have many thoughts this year on turning 31. Much more than I did when I turned 21 and a lot more than I did when I turned 30 last year. 21 and 30 are the supposed defining moments in a woman’s life. 21 is of course an indication of independence, transitioning from girl to woman and 30 is another milestone, if I may so put it that way. It is the ambivalent transition of woman to woman but not the same woman. You are supposed to feel powerful at 30 – with a career already well in motion, emerged stronger from a few broken relationships and may even have children to run after. If you are cynical like me, 30 also spells a decline.

You understand that all these are generalizations and of course everybody’s life pans out differently but what I’ve listed is what you may have thought of as a child, 13 going 30 and I’m sure those possibilities definitely crossed your mind. I know I have. But fast-forwarding the track, my life has also taken a route less travelled and whether it converges to the point of how I imagined it to be is still unknown.

Of late, I have been a little philosophical and forcing myself to take a step back to observe what I want. It is easy to fall into the lure of a monotonous pattern if you do not make the slightest struggle to get out of it – Eat, Sleep, Work and ? I’ve read an article on New York Times on why it is so hard to make friends over 30. I’ve also surfed some blogs whose authors show dedication in their entries that it is hard not to feel envy at how they did it. I’ve read biographies of some pretty spectacular people who never gave up and finally achieved success through their belief and it is hard to think why I should be any different. I could also be someone I envy but to be that someone, I first need to confront some demon, re-organize myself and re-prioritize.

I am an impulsive person. That translates over to decisions I sometimes make, over to my buying habits (especially my shopaholic addiction) and also my way of life. Do first, think later. Not the smartest of move in any circumstances really but I am just lucky that my impulsion has never turned out disastrous for me. Broke yes, go hungry no. However I hope that all’s that going to start changing. I am not delusional enough to think that I could go on a shopping famine anytime soon but I found myself evaluating my purchases. Many times just within this week, I’ll fervently put things into my shopping carts online but yet when the time comes to click “Pay Now”, I actually faltered and the best part is I didn’t follow through. I started feeling guilty about my overflowing wardrobe. I want to take pride in it and say that everything in it is well-loved and worn but it looks like for a long time, till I manage to streamline it, I won’t be feeling that pride anytime soon.

I am a disorganized person. Much of any form of organization remains only in my head. In the past, I used to revel in “an organized mess”. I thought the term sounded so cool and it made me feel .. interesting even though it now seems like a lazy excuse to remain status quo. But really, I am not that hopeless, it’s just I could just do with a lot more organization.

Point is, on turning 31, I want to be really inspired and to find joy in simplicity. By inspired, I mean to feel a sense of elation in doing things. So the adage goes something like “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day” and that is where I want to be. If I pick up ukulele, I want to learn to joyfully go through with the process instead of stressing over it. If I want to wear something out, I do not want to pull and tug and yes, I will iron it before I go out in order to look more “polished”. If I have to face an unavoidable circumstance, I will make the best of it.

Here is my bucket list:
a. My airplane wear is not going to be sloppy ever. It can be comfortable but still stylish. I will not live in my sleepwear.
b. I will learn how to not be awkward around total strangers. I will smile and devise a way to make clever, small talk.
c. I will not spend all my money on shopping. *Note the ambiguity. Instead, I will better assess my wardrobe and shop in it.
d. I will get back into the momentum of writing.
e. I will read not just trashy novels but also meaningful things.

Learning to just be myself is a long overdue task.