Hand me some balsamic vinegar please!

One of the things I ate and really liked during the time I lived in LA was dipping bread into olive oil and balsamic vinegar (the more aged, the better!), sprinkled on with a bit of salt. Since I am still on a (painful and difficult) diet, I googled this snack and found that it is a healthy snack since olive oil is good oil, and well as long as I do wholemeal breads it beats white bread hands down any time. (CARBS WIN)

I miss eating this so so so so so so much! You have no idea!!!!!

Here’s the recipe if you’d like to try it, though don’t forget to add salt to the olive oil and balsamic mixture or else it would just be bland and really sour haha.

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(via tumblr)

6 more days to a year since I set foot there.

Still feels like yesterday.

At times I fall asleep and wake up in the middle of the night with a startle while my room is still dark and cold and dry, and I’d pretend the hum of the air con doesn’t exist. It would usually be cold without flipping on the switch to it in my apartment on Kelton Ave. It was the 12 degrees cold that would chew me at the toes. During the few seconds before my eyes get accustomed to seeing the vague outlines and silhouettes of the furniture in my crammed room in the dark, I would pretend I was still in the white room with a white bed with white sheets against the white wall. I would sit by the edge of my bed for a moment and my feet would hover slightly above the floor, refusing to land itself. Carpet, not square tiles; fuzzy and soft, not cold and hard and unfeeling.

More often than not I retract my feet and tuck them in, under the comfort of my duvet, refusing to break the illusion.

I shut my eyes to the world and fall back asleep before I can make out where I am in the dark.

Sometimes I wonder what would it be like to go through all of my life missing the life I had there.

Complexion

Wow the complexion I had when I was in LA. Super…….good. Will kill to have that again. Even the makeup looks…so much better!! Plus the hair. Which I am waiting desperately to grow. Straight hair is still more manageable.

2011

I want to do well so badly in life it’s ridiculous. But procrastination is my worst enemy as always. What’s more ridiculous is how I lack the discipline to get down to it.

Everyday feels like a Saturday to me. Especially this week. Its bad, because I will get a rude shock when I get back to school in two day’s time.

But I missed this. I missed Saturdays in LA especially.

This year flew by way too fast.

I still can’t believe how I made it to Hollywood, or how I got through the six months living on my own. I managed to get away from Singapore, which I vaguely recall, was driving me to the brink of asphyxiation. I remember how all my innate instincts were resonating with the same voice, telling me that it was time to go, even if it meant leaving Sam and my loved ones for a while. I remember the frustration when my visa got delayed, and how I couldn’t sleep for nights because I knew that if it didn’t work out fine in the end, I would probably be a very miserable grump up till now. But being away healed me in ways I never thought possible. I learnt how to tune out to things that I shouldn’t be concerned with, to truly be myself again…because nobody knew me there and I am truly myself when nobody is looking, which is, the reason why I love being by myself alot.

I worked at Myriad, which was in my opinion, the best place to be if you’re learning the ropes to the American film industry. I worked under a tough boss, and had good and bad days in the office. The good ones would see me joking with my colleagues and fighting over chocolate and starburst candies or making stupid, silly jokes about one another, and the bad ones saw me crying during the day cos I was missing it here too much. I know the times I could have gotten fired due to my careless blunders, but God is so gracious…His grace is all sufficient for me.

I met Maria, who is the most wonderful person to live with if you’re away from home for a while. I will always, always remember her kindness and graciousness to me..and how she took care of me throughout my stay there.

They say trips could make or break a relationship, but fortunately for Sam and I, the long distance didn’t manage to harm or threaten the balance of ours. In fact, though Melody and Hosanna thought that I was very nonchalant about the bouquet of tulips he bought me on the day he met me after three months, I was indeed, very touched. Except tulips weren’t my favourite…and I didn’t know how to react after not seeing him for so, so long. But the three weeks in LA with Sam has been by far the most magical moments of my life. And though he isn’t the kind of guy to buy me the right flowers, what matters was that he flew so many miles out just right after his last paper ended to see me. Me. Till today I marvel at why he has decided to come back and settle for me, because he could have just continued…walking and leaving. (and to add impact to my point, I am going to tell all of you who thought I was wrong about him: I have always stood firm that Sam has it in him to be the right kind of guy for me. Even if he did a lot that was wrong before. But this is what I did: I truly believed that he could be a good person. And I am happy to say that he hasn’t proven me wrong. And heres to all of you who thought I would look back to when I was 15 and think I was stupid or foolish – I never regretted waiting.) Its been six years now.

I travelled on my own to New York after the internship, lugging two 70 pound luggages to LAX. And trust me, getting through customs in America can be ultra scary. I don’t know how I did it really! I got to Charlotte for my transit flight to New York and realised that my flight was the last one they allowed out due to Hurricane Irene which was touching down that weekend. So I got to experience a true hurricane….and having to clear out a flooded basement at 7am in the morning. Speaking of New York, I remember vividly that one night I sat in prayer telling God my hopes and dreams and how New York is that one city in this world I have to be at before I turn 25. And I was…there.

When I came back, I got to meet up with Ted aka Josh Radnor from HIMYM as a Myriad representative at SIFF, and…it was just so strange to read up so much about someone and finally get to meet this someone in person. Julianna then came to Singapore from LA on a business trip, and I took her on a crazy one day tour.

I also got accepted to UniMelb and Monash….but still really want to study locally though. Life decisions sigh.

And then on Christmas I received a mail from the school’s corporate comms department, with a magazine that had me in it, which was kind of weird cos I always thought that people who appeared in such magazines are nerds(well I guess that kind of makes me one now).

Other than that, I picked up poetry writing thanks to book writing and publishing classes, and also managed to get real feedback on my work. I got to specialise in journalism too, which is…still pretty amazing.

Sometimes God is just so good, no wait, scratch that – God is ALWAYS good(even if I am not considered to be petite anymore cos I have grown proportionally to resemble the Caucasian size…or even if I put on too much weight due to my trip to the states). Everything that happened to me in 2011 was nothing short of amazing. One of the best years of my life.

Answered prayer

If you are wondering why there haven’t been any updates on this space, it is because I have been channelling all my ideas to my poems for my bookpub classes…and well, other school assignments. I have been working on a few projects that I am actually excited to undertake, and I am praying that all will go well eventually. Another eight more weeks to my unofficial graduation. I received two emails that made my day today, one all the way from LA, and another, from an old, dear friend of mine. I also went for NAPFA and passed all the stations except my 2.4km run…but hey at least I tried my best :) One more week to the Christmas break and I am more than ready to do work during that two weeks haha. It sounds strange but it’s the last lap, there is no point in enjoying my holidays when I have a longer one awaiting me after I unofficially graduate :) Speaking of which, pick up a copy of npTribune and lookout for my byline!

I can also safely say, at the end of week 8, I call/email people for interviews #likeaboss. The initial fear of talking to strangers has finally dissipated. While I still hate the exhorting, cajoling, coaxing my interviewees part of my interviews, I know that God is in control and He will hold me fast. He will not allow me to become a cold-blooded, detached person just for the sake of getting a story.

Contradicting convictions

I have been thinking – what if there is no one job I could do my whole life? Just because all human beings are fickle and need change constantly in their lives. I spoke to an environmentalist earlier on, who started out studying media, and went on to do PR and then decided she wanted to do writing but ended up setting up a non-profit organization, and her very own green PR company.

When she was my age, she was looking for that one job she would do all her life too.

What if there is no such thing as having just one profession all my life? Would I be job hopping? Would I hate my job(s) so much that I end up being poor(or rich) and miserable? I hate the thought of not knowing what I m going to be in future. It frightens me a lot. I wish I had devised a plan B…now I guess I just have to look for it. And fast.

I couldn’t be more nonchalant about my acceptance to the best university in Australia. I received the news today. I guess it’s because I know I will never have the money to be able to go…and I’ve used much of my parents savings when I took a trip to LA last April.

Sometimes, having to choose does not necessarily mean freedom to choose. Is there true freedom in choosing when you’ve so many options? I guess not.

I miss it when the only things I had to choose were between an apple or an orange, the piano or ballet, pink or yellow dress, to do or not do, to go or not go.

I was so much myself when I was living in LA. Simply because nobody there knew me. You know what they say, when no one is looking, that’s who you really are.

I worked so hard for two years doing something I love, only to realise I dislike the person I have become because of it. But I refuse to let it consume me. Refuse.

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”

I think.. it was because I dropped everything I was concerned with and left, without a care in the world, or doubt as to what would become to everything here while I was away, and now I’m back, I have to pick up the pieces and continue from where I left off.

I miss being that way. Carefree. I was happy. I missed home a lot, I was away, but I knew I was truly happy. It felt so good to be away..somehow. I miss the walks to Wholefoods to get groceries on Saturday mornings, or to Citibank to get cash for my rent.

I miss the person I was when I was living by myself. At least I was independent. I was unburdened. I possessed a certain sort of confidence. At least I had the faith that things will going to be just fine even on my worse days.

But ever since I’ve been back, I feel like I’m constantly tripping and falling flat on my face. Oh it hurts, sure it does.

The Grove at Fairfax

I fell in love with The Grove the night Sam took me there after work for dinner with Melody and Hosanna. The sight of it was just so pretty. People dining alfresco, the tram (that goes ‘ding ding!’) that cuts right in the centre of everything exciting, the lovely jazz music playing everywhere and I mean EVERYWHERE (Can you imagine if Orchard Road was like that?!?!), the huge stores and theatre. We took the tram twice to and fro from Farmer’s market to the other end (Abercombie and Fitch) just for fun. By the time we got to the Farmer’s Market, it was already 8.30pm and all the shops were closing. We managed to get some Singaporean food for me, after 3 months of going without mee goreng, laksa, and the likes. And you can trust that I was literally hopping all over the place when I saw those Yeos canned drinks. (In a way, it felt like a contraband product since it was so hard to find those around in America) I also got to slurp a lot of Chendol (3.50USD for a cup, mind you) and had French sweet crepes for desert (Nutella, strawberries and bananas!!!!!!).

I tried out the Cheesecake Factory before I headed to New York in August, just right before Ben and my brother flew back to Singapore…we waited a good 1hr 30mins(It seems like for good food in LA, there’s always some reasonable wait) just for a huge plate of garlic prawns pasta. As usual, we didn’t manage to finish our portions because they were ridiculously huge. But it was a good place to dine at; 100x better than Applebees. The cheesecakes were fantastic and we bought each of us one to take back to the apartment for breakfast the next morning before we headed to Universal Studios Hollywood, only that I knocked over Ben’s one and it smashed right into the tiled floor of my kitchen ahaha. But using the five second food rule as a (safe stomach) measure, he still ate it anyway.

To sum it up, I will always love The Grove!!!!!!!!!

Stupefy

It’s super surreal when I am going to meet someone I have researched and collated reviews on for months for my past work. I think no matter how many times I am going to meet these people, I will always be amazed and stupefied – Like the spell Harry taught the Dumbledore Army, stupefy, except I am rendered considerably, a lot less damage.

To look at a person and think silently, I know everything about you - the movies you starred in, the awards you won, trivial facts, gossip, who reps you, what have you been up to lately, or I know what everyone says about you. And then meet this person in real life.

In Singapore.

Super surreal.

The grass is greener on the other side

When I was in the states, I didn’t take much pictures because I knew I was going to face the same scenery the next morning I head out again.

I didn’t know how to appreciate my wonderful, lovely, beautiful apartment, with the kitchenette that I was hoping to have before I left. I overlooked the privilege of having In and Out burger just 20 mins away from home. The privilege of visiting exquisite museums on weekends. The privilege of being able to take a bus and have it drive past the Santa Monica Pier and beach on my way to work everyday. What a luxury it was, for me to be living in such a perfect neighbourhood.

And yet.

I didn’t know how to appreciate the busy, jammed freeways, and the little cafes with the best food I have ever eaten in my life.

Not only do I not realise the potential in things that I see each day that can be made into stories worth telling, I fail at seeing the potential in things that are actually worth some attention from my camera. All I am left with is countless of lost words, lost pictures, preserved by my memory – which by the way is extremely vulnerable because I could get amnesia some point along my life, or become senile when I am old and not be able to remember any of the beautiful places and moments.

Tragic.