Snow Queen

Papa, Je pense a toi...

2005-09-20T21:50:00.000+01:00

Something interesting happened today. I was being driven to Goldman Sachs. A beautiful shiny new bentley turbo stopped at the lights next to me. The old, distinguished man at the wheel turned to face me and blew me a kiss. He wound down the window, as did I , and I said, beautiful car. He said, come for a ride. I declined with a smile. We drove off... As my car turned towards my destination, he yelled something out to me. The Bentley sped up and he stopped precariously in front of a red London bus. What is your name? Daphne. I said. Daphne what? Wong. And off I went. as did he.
i smiled to myself.. how funny it is to share ones name with a stranger...even stranger, at the intersection of fleet and farringdon.

Time passes with a blink of an eye, and all we have are our memories to reflect upon.. Today, I looked lovingly at the photograph I keep constantly at my bedside. That of my family, at our last complete Chinese New Year, daddy, mummy, Dawn, Diane and me. 2 years now, in a blink of an eye. And I still rememeber him as the slightly overweight, always quick to quip, selfless, loving and giving father. 2 years now, and not a day passes that I do not miss him.

Daddy, comment ca va? I am learning french. how are you in heaven? I hope you are happy there. We are well here. Some things have changed, but I think as you look down upon us, you will smile and your heart will fill with pride.

Diane is doing well in school. I miss her. I missed her growing up. Just as I remmeber you as your perfect healthy self, I rememeber her as a 6 year old. My little sister.. She is so grown up now, so intelligent, and learning so much about the world. She has so much love for those around her, so little resentment for the fact that the man dearest to her life was taken away so soon. I promise, she will grow up to be a strong, beautiful woman. In fact, she is almost there..

Dawn will graduate this year. I am sure you will watch with pride as she walks onstage, with innate grace, to receive the honour she has worked hard for. Maybe she is still a little princess, but she has become more responsible than one could ever imagine. remmeber how you used to worry about her? you can stop worrying now. She is a survivor.. she is more than that. She will soon be a star, she was born to be a star.

Mummy? as always, she is the selfless, giving mother and daughter. She was very ill recently, and my heart nearly broke when I spoke to her as she lay recuperating from her operation. Remmeber you said to me, as we watched her prepare your medicine, sitting in the front yard, painstakingly bent over the herbs, never a doubt in her mind that these plants would make you well again, you said to me.. that you loved her so much, and that you didnt know, had the situation been reversed, if you could have the same courage as she did? I ask myself the same question.. would I be able to give the way my mother does? Is there any other woman like her? You were so lucky, and you knew it, to have someone like her. We know it too, and we are thankful everyday that she is in our lives. That she gave us our lives.

et moi? I am going to business school, pops. As you always hoped, I am going to do my MBA. it has been an interesting 2 years, but I always rememmerb every lesson you have thought me. your memory gives me strength, your words are always in my heart. I am often disappointed by people around me, because i ask so much of myself, and i ask the same of others. Remember you said, that one should give but not expect anything in return, or one will invariably be disappointed? That, I am still trying to learn.

Next year, we will all be there to speak to you. in singapore. we will be together again. I await that moment with bated breath. I feel your presence when I am in the air.. i feel your presence when i am in singapore. i feel your presence in my room , in my dreams, everywhere... I know you are always here.

i made a promise. to my family. they will have everything they wish for, as much as i can give. for now , it is only my support, my wisdom (although it pales in comparison to that of yours), and my love. but i will also give them the experiences they want in life.

The man in the car today... made me think about you. Because I made you a promise a long time ago. That one day I would buy you a beautiful sports car.. remember?

I like to think I keep my promises.

I miss you daddy.. Je pense a toi.. toujours...

Alexander the Great.

2005-08-13T21:21:00.000+01:00

He was the greatest conquerer in all of history. This was a man who never denied his fears, but instead lived his entire life facing up to them. Great men die young, and so it was at the age of 33, Alexander succumbed to fever as the ruler of the world, and he died a free man.
His was a life supported by the unwavering loyalty of the love of his life, Hephaistion, shrouded by the darkness of his mother, Olympias, and bolstered by the unfinished legacy of his father, Philip. He went , he saw and he conquered.

In a time when no one knew where the end of the world lay, he dared to venture into the unknown. In our time, when we have conquered the lands, the seas and the skies, our fears are no longer of the unknown. Or are they?

Alexander could not accept defeat, so he fought on. And although his failures overshadow the successes of most men, in the end, he was but a mortal. As we all are.

so what do we fear? I fear the unknown. Except, what I do not know is hardly something that lies beyond the highest peaks of the himalayas, or the deepest depths of the Pacific . What I fear, is something that most mortals have experienced- a broken heart. Alexander was one who fought numerous battles, won and never lost. And in the end, he died of a broken heart. But above all, he dared to live.

What is it to love? What is it to have lost? I do not know. There are those who are brave enough to have lost , and dared to love again. And so it is, that I, empowered by the courage of the brave, dare to find what lies in the unknown. Because to live in fear, would be to die in its shackles, and to never taste freedom.

Tick Tick Tick...

2005-08-09T19:39:00.000+01:00

What is a bad day? when the alarm fails to go off, the bus is late, traffic is in gridlock, your manager yells at you, it rains and you forgot your umbrella and youre wearing your Manolos.
Ive never believed in bad days. We like to string all the bad together as we do with the good. Today was no exception. I wasnt having a bad day. I was just being myself- a time bomb just waiting to explode, and today the timer ticked to 0.

For 2 weeks now, I have been comtemplating turning 27. I have been waiting with bated breathe for the results from INSEAD, my apparently successful weeklong courtship with the most recent suitor had fizzled away, and my annoyance with my company , run by a round table of incompetent fools , was simmering to the surface.

This morning, I celebrated with my mentor after successfully obtaining an internship for his 18 year old at my useless company. We chatted candidly over a coffee a chocolate cookie, and he agreed with me- my managers deserved to be shot. As I walked back to my office in the warm sunshine, my mood was light, lighter than it had been in a while. I felt inspired, as always, by my mentor. Then i heard someone call out to me , over the music playing from my ipod . It was him- Mr S. the only man i nearly fell in love with in this city. We made small talk, we squinted at each other through the glaring sun, but even then, I knew we had missed each other. (perhaps i was just projectin...). He gave me a warm, long hug and we went out separate ways.
back at the office, I was feeling fragile once more. My period was making me more emotional than usual, and his reply to my invitation to my 27th birthday party ( i will be in town and would love to attend), made my heart jump and my stomach feel sick.

Then came the straw that broke the camels back. Mr team leader in name, aka I really have no responsiblities, but i love pretending I am running a nuclear power plant, blatantly tried to palm off the most boring of his duties to ME!
I fumed, I turned red and I blew up. There was no way I was going to be bullied by him. He was less than amused by my explosion in front of the entire team, and pulled me into a room to reprimand me. Thanks to my raging hormones, I burst into tears. Ah the shame of showing weakness in the workpplace. Nevertheless I managed to be petulant and insubordinate whilst contributing to deforestation with the number of tissues i was using to blow my nose. Fuck off, I dont need to talk about my problems, much less with you.

Of course, I then had to re-glamourise and head back to my clients office and if i really believed in bad days, i was definlintey having one. There are 2 buildins, with 7 levels each, and my meeting that afternoon was with a new client who sat right behind Mr S. Sigh.

Perhaps we are all ticking away.. just waiting for that final moment.. the timer has been restarted.. for now.

Dont panic, its only love

2005-08-03T20:56:00.000+01:00

I had a friend who suffered from panic attacks. These would come out of the blue. when she was in an underground tunnel, an aeroplane, the Tube. She would feel paralysed, her heart would beat to fast and hard she thought it would burst out of her chest. The walls would seem to close in on her and she felt like she could die. Panic attacks are triggered by a chemical reaction at the back of the head, somewhere near the base where the skull meets the spinal chord and can be controlled by medication.

I probably came close to having a panic attack twice in my life.
The first time was when i introduced by a friend to a revolutionary new way of relaxin- floating in a tank of salt water. The tank was an egg shaped capsule filled with warm, salty water. I stripped down into my swimmers and stepped into the contraption, which was lit by a warm orange light. There were 2 buttons on the inside of the tank, one to dim the light and the other to shut the lid. Ironically, in a bid to relax, I found ways to distract myself, starting with the light switch. unware that the light would slowly dim and switch off completely with one touch of the button, rather than be activated in a series of pushes of the button, I tapped at it once, then pushed the button to close the lid. Before I knew it i was entombed in this egg-shaped coffin, suffocating in the dank vapours of the warm salty water, in complete darkness. On the verge of panic, i groped at the sides to locate the 2 buttons. Excruxiating seconds ticked by as i splashed around, and it took all my mental capacity to keep my composure. If i had panicked, i most certainly would have suffocated and passed out. Finally my fingers found the switches along the salt encrusted and slippery sides of the tank and the coffin opened.

The second time was an aeroplane. After a relatively heavy night of partying with no sleep I popped a valium and snuggled into my seat, ready for a much needed sleep on my 7 hour flight back to singapore. To my horror, my muscles relaxed but my heart and my mind started to race. paranoia threatened to take over and as the plane started on the runway, I was on the verge of screaming out to be let off the plane. I was sure I would crash, and die in a ball of fire. I was sweating and shaking but unable to speak, breathe or move. The plane took off and i gripped weakly at the arm rests. Finally, as the plane reached cruising altitude and the fasten seat belt sign went off, I managed to relax and fell into a restless slumber.

I am also familiar with the panic attacks that are triggered by fear, caused by chemistry felt with the opposite sex, rather than a chemical reaction in my brain. The intense attraction, and the fear of becoming vulnerable, of falling in love, causes the same physiological reactions in a panic attack. When I think about picking up the phone and speaking to this person, my throat and mouth go dry. When I await the next meeting, of broaching our expectations of a possible future, my hands shake, I sweat and I feel paralysed. I want to speak but I literally gag on the words. Panic attack, caused by the fear of failure and of the pain that comes with it. So I take the easiest way out, the path that I have chosen time and time again- I turn and I run.

Pilots take beta blockers when attempting emergency landings. These are the same drugs I consumed when I was playing competitive pool . They block out beta waves which cause panic, they slow the heart down, prevent physical reactions like shaking hands and sweating glands.

Perhaps this is exactly what the love doctor would prescribe to me. So i will calm down, and realise, what the hell, no one ever died of a broken heart.

Its like sunshine in London

2005-07-31T21:05:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, I took a leap and ventured out of the 2 km radius of Notting Hill. With friend in tow, I hopped onto the number 27 bus , headed for Camden Markets, where 6 of my pot loving friends from Sydney were spending the day recovering from a particularly big night out. As we sat around, the boys sipped their beers tenderly, conversation was minimal as their fragile states meant that simple actions like lip movements required excruxiating effort.

After Jason had bid aieu, time to return to Sydney, my friend and I decided to make the best of the 6 pm speical- all takeout boxes were slashed from gbp5 to gbp2. We sat on a bench in the open air, willing the dark clouds to hang in there, and discussed the weather ( a favourite topic of conversation this side of the equator). He looked meloncholy. Why, I asked. Was it the weather? NO, he replied. He was just an intrinsically meloncholy person. There are times he is happy, but most times, he reckons that this is just a transient state, that good things come to those who wait, although, the wait can, in itself, be excruxiating.

I thought to myself, this was a person who had had the guts to leave his home, with nothing but the shirt on his back, move to london with the hope of seeing the world , and yet, he was searching for happiness. When was the last time I had met someone who was truly happy? I dont think i had. ever.

On wednesday, at the invitaion of my new friend, a certain Mr S, I braved the rain to join him for a quiet dinner at his humble abode. Deciding that mouldy bread and M^S tomato soup was not my choice of a gourmet dinner, I whippid out my umbrella and headed out to seek out my meal du jour. I spotted a little middle eastern kebab shop and decided that a shwarma would be very dlightful indeed. The proprietor was an arab looking man of about 28. He had a clean white apron, white paper hat and a wide smile whcih exposed pearly white teeth. As I watched him prepare my dinner with intense concentraion, I wondered to myself how many hours he had been on his feet, smiling, welcoming customers and painstakingly preparing each order, for a mere pittance. was he happy? I shared my thoughts with Mr S, also of arabic descent, but hardly spent a second in the work day standing up. He was an extremely succesful banker in a top American Financial institution. He wore white tailored shirts, walked in prada shoes and made more money from each customer than Mr kebab store would make in 10 years. Was HE happy?

Mr S replied, perhaps, the man in the kebab store is happier than I am.

I realised, that happiness, is not a destination. We all imagine that no matter how dire our current circumstance, if we had goals and we worked towards achieving them, one day we will attain nirvana. Life would be perfect.
But in reality, happiness is like the english weather. Some days we wake up and there is sunshine. We know that it might not last, so we get out of bed and head to the park , to lap up the best the day has to bring. When dark clouds gather, as they invariably do, we pack up our picnic baskets and hurry indoors, snuggle up on our sofa with a hot chocolate and a DVD. We talk about how great the morning had been, and how unfortunate it is that it is so desolate now.. and we sigh.. and hope for the rain to clear so we may once again bring out the rose and sunglasses.

That is life, that is happiness. It comes in snatches, when you least expect it. It is made up of those moments when you sit back and ask yourself, could anything be more perfect than what you have right now? Would you wish to be anywhere else than where you are right now? And you smile to yourself, and you whisper under your breath- no.
The rain will most definlintey come again, but so will the sunshine.
We arent hurrying to reach the end. We are content to accept, that after the clouds clear, we will be happy once more.

My Naked Passion

2005-07-21T00:49:00.000+01:00

I had never realised until now, the passion in my writing, and the impact it would have on those who reaed what I have to say. Some people paint, some draw, some sing. I write. And when I write, all the feelings and emotions that I suppress come to the fore with unbated passion, the kind of passion i never thought I would be capable of. Someone once read the blog I wrote, I had a Dream, and thought it was an excerpt from Paolo Coelho, and that was the greatest compliment anyone could pay me.
In a world where we are judged all the time, we find ourselves trapped within ourselves. The words we want to say, the emotions we want to express, we keep deep within ourselves, because to show our emotions would be to expose our very being. And to me, someone who believes that to show the truth of how i feel is to be weak and vulnerable, to be unable to control the desire to let myself go, is to be a failure.
So i hold it all inside, with a smile and a facade of devil may care. but underneath that happy go lucky exterior is a creature brimming with unbridled desire, passion and want. and so it is in my writing that I express myself. My naked passion. This is who i am. How many of you will embrace it and how many of you will draw back instinctively, because in my writing, I hae also exposed the side of you that you have expended all you have to protect?

A Day of Mourning...

2005-07-07T17:55:00.000+01:00

As the enormity of the terror attacks on London sink in, I am filled with a sense of relief but also sadness at the innocent lives lost and the realisation of how the world we live in is changing. All four tube stations are stations I pass through daily to get to and from work, and had i been on the tube one hour later, it could have been me caught in one of these blasts. Accidents happen, people die. But when lives are lost do to planned malicious attacks by other human beings, attacks intended to cause as much trauma as possible, it brings fear to the heart. This was no 9/11 by any stretch of the imagination, but it was still horrific and cowardly.
I walked 2 hours from my office to get home and there was an eeriness in the albeit crowded high streets of London. Shops were shut, police cordons abound, and there was no laughter, people were not smiling, they were all shell shocked and trying to find a way home.
The worlds biggest cities have now been attacked on a large scale by these terrorists. New York, Madrid and now London. When will the actions of these extremists end, and when will the ending of innocent lives stop? Probably never. But to give in to these fanatics, and to allow our lives to be filled with fear would be to give up the one thing that we in the civilised world have that they do not- freedom.

I dont know....

2005-07-06T22:26:00.000+01:00

so tonight was a bit of a drama.... had an AWEFUL dinner at the new singaporean/malaysian joint in my local area with L. The waiter hits on me every time I am there with his equally aweful english.. and i manage to lose my credit card. god knows how i manage to do that. there is so much shit stuck to the card that if someone takes it to the cops i am gonna get into real shit.. so trying to cancel my card in my inebriated state require me to ring the amex line FOUR times to speak to the same number of people, transferred from oz to london to malaysia but we finally have touch down. card is cancelled and replacement on the way... wouldnt want some homeless loser signing my dads inheritance away!
so.. Ls ex is in town this weekend and again he declares his undying bond with me but inability to cancel out 7 years of attachment. Ah its so transparent.... why put labels.. you feel what you feel and I know it... we can deny in words.. but do you really believe? I dont think so. youre in so deep and you dont know how to get out..

10 Downing Street

2005-07-01T20:49:00.000+01:00

Today, I had a pleasant suprise. I was asked to take 2 of my biggest clients out to a private tour of the art collection at 10 Downing Street. Who would have thought I would see the inside of the residence of the Prime Minister of Great Britain? After passing through tight security (actually, the name on the door was of another colleague and the machine gun totting policemen were quite satisfied with my simple explanation that she was unwell, and I am me, as proven by my new South Wales drivers licence), and xray scans, there I was, at the doorway many have only seen on television. The tour was not the most exciting thing Ive done in recent memory-the guide gave detailed explanations of the portraits of important English Politicians adorned the walls of this 500 year old building, as well as the old and new furniture, state rooms and silverware. however, it was definlintey a surreal feeling, to be here, inside this house of huge political signifiance, flanked by 2 MDs from Goldmans Sachs.
Shame we were not allowed to take photos to commemerate this occasion!

Life in all its glory!

2005-06-30T20:50:00.000+01:00

Hi AM, yes I do think a lot, a lot more than most people. But if we do not analyse our thoughts and actions, and the effects, how else can we better ourselves as human beings? I guess we all have different priorities in life, and different interests. Nothing intruges me more than human behaviour, be it those of others, or my own! Just because we think does not mean we are unhappy people. Anwyay, you get to see the brooding side of me only because my blog is my outlet for my thoughts. You have never actually seen me on a day to day basis have you? ;o )

Yesterday, I had dinner with my Friend. lets call him L. hahah.. It was a great warm day, and we dined al fresco in a quiant little restaurant in Notting Hill. As luck would have it, 2 friends who lived in the apartment just next to the restuarant walked by and invited us upstairs for drinks on the terrace... I said to him that nothing could make me any happier than I was at that moment- Great food, great friends, great weather and great wine. This is what we live life for!

Yes, surprise surprise! no melancholy thoughts today, no questioning of the meaning of life... just enjoying the moments that make it all worth while!

the thing about Thunderstorms...

2005-06-28T21:53:00.000+01:00

They say that you should never use electronic devices in a thunderstorm, eat carbs after 6, or drink alcohol with sleeping pills. So here I am, 10pm on a stormy tuesday night, woken from my restless, valium induced sleep by a phone call, reaching out for a comforting snack of muesli, skimmed milk and pinot grigio.
See the thing about being rendered physically semi paralytic and sleeping restlessly due to a subconcious bent on torturing with you abstract and uncomfortable dreams is that when you are abruptly woken, you find yourself unable to fall back into a restful slumber. You are suddenly made even more concious of the niggling thoughts that you have somehow managed up till now to suppress and store in the deeper compartments of your mind.
So it is, on this rainy and sticky summers night that I sit here in front of my laptop wondering to myself- what is it about thunderstorms that make us all the more lonely, and can you really be friends when you really would rather be lovers?
As if on cue, the thunder pauses and I can hear the gentle patter of rain on the concrete in my backyard, just quietly tapping away away above the endless hum of my desk fan. I find myself willing the thunder to return, for ironically, the eerie repetitive sound of falling rain rings hollow, and the thunder promises to be a better companion. In NY, my thoughts were filled with London, becuase for that moment, it felt like my home. Caught up in the excitement that is NYC, I was looking forward to comfort and familiarity on my return to this quieter cousin that is the city of London. But in my gut, there is a sickening and all too familiar feeling- where does this lead to? Should i not be celebrating the fact that I am now in the interview process in my MBA application and another step closer to my dream? So why is it that all I can think about is, perhaps he is at dinner with someone he had met over the weekend, but more importantly, we all valiantly attempt to hold on to the vestiges of what had passed for a relationship, by creating a new, artificially elevated status for what we used to have- a GOOD friendship.
Can 2 people really be friends when there are expectations, fears and mistrust? This question has even more bearing when the scales of this frienship are tipped, with one side having all of the above and the other not wanting the pressures of the 3 ties that weigh one down.
Do we really have to be courageous and say to ourselves that as grown ups, we should break the cycles that hurt us, and learn to face the reality of our relationships, and to feel blessed that we have lost a lover, but gained a true friend. but how true is true? When one side inevitably meets another, what happens to this friendship? Do we hold back the feelings of betrayal, after all, these were expecations created in your own mind, or do we simply say, this is how I feel. You were my best friend because I was the only one in your heart, and now that this is no longer true, then you will no longer have that special place in mine.
I step outside. The storm has subsided and the rain has washed away the humidity, and just like that, the suffocating trepidition that I had felt seemed to unlock itself and release me from its vice like grip. Perhaps its the intoxcating combination of valium and wine thats slowly blurring my senses, or perhaps its just another night, just another dream and in the morning, when day breaks, it will be just another beautiful summers day, with questions lying in wait until the next roll of thunder...

New York, New York...

2005-06-28T14:54:00.000+01:00

Who is my fan? AM please identify yourself!
D2- it was a 50-50 chance.. and I made a guess based on your writing style as opposed to DW.
C- glad to know I will sell at least ONCE book.

For some people blogs are just narratives, of daily events. But when you write, I feel you should write from the heart. Its corny, but words are the windows to the soul, and that’s how you let people in. This blog is a TAD long.. hahah but see how much of it you guys manage to get through!

NY is the city that never sleeps, and I am the girl who has barely slept in the last 4 days. But perhaps you may experience the most amazing city in the world vicariously through me!

So here I am, undertaking this enormous task of sharing everything I saw, smelt, tasted, felt and heard in the Big Apple. How does one put these intangibles into words?

The moment I stepped out of the cab onto the pavement of Lexington Avenue on this warm and sultry Friday afternoon, I could feel the city seep into my skin. There was an indescribable vibe, which was captured to perfection as I sat on the rooftop of the Rareview Bar on 37th and Lexington, sipping a strawberry mojita and watching the sun set behind the Empire State Building. Everything about NY is Big, bold, daring and unabashed. The pizzas are the size of 18 inch mag wheels, scoops of ice cream perch precariously on top of waffle cones which require 2 hands to grasp, sky scrapers touch the clouds and the New Yorkers do not speak. They yell.

On a perfect summers morning, we stroll to the Guggenheim, then laze in the warm sunshine on the lush green turf in the middle of Central Park, watching the children play baseball, relishing the ultimate NY breakfast- hot toasted blueberry bagels washed down with tall creamy lattes. The artists line the streets in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art , with their paintings and photographs of famous NY landmarks, and at the end of each block of artwork is a stand selling large salty pretzels and cool iced tea. The tranquillity of the day is broken by the noisy lunchtime crowd in a quaint sushi bar in Chinatown, where gorgeous morsels of sushi fill our stomachs, and the buzz of the city engulf our senses.

Ever heard of the Great Hotdog eating contest? It is held at the famous Nathans Hotdog Stand on Coney Island, which is where we dared to venture in the midst of the Brighton Beach Mermaid Parade. After 2 hours of battling traffic and a complete 10 round tour of the streets around brighton courtesy of a desperate search for parking, we finally make our way into the heart of the party, where we are greeted by grown men with hairy chests dressed in bright sequinned mermaid outfits, complete with flipping tails and shell tops to hide their non existent mammaries.

Little Russia, little italy, little Ukraine, little italy.. One can stay right in NYc and travel the world. The senses are boggled by the myriad ethnic groups, the food, music and culture, right here on the east coast of the US of A. A trip to Harlem proves startling in its juxtapositions- a white boy with 2 chinese girls in a car driving into the heart of one of the toughest neighbourhoods in NY, where a non African American on the street is a rare sight. But I am mesmerised by the women with their ample bottoms gyrating with unimaginable fluidity to music only they seem to hear, the boys break dancing at the traffic lights and the number of ALL YOU CAN EAT soul food buffets.

Sunday Brunch in NY is an institution. And as I walked out of the muggy afternoon sun into the cool welcoming arms of 11 Madison Park, I get a feeling of Déjà vu…. The white linen table clothes, warm wooden panels.. and those steps…. I confer with our friendly waiter and confirm that this is the very site where Carrie fell rather unceremoniously down THOSE steps one Sunday on the set of Sex and the City. Ah…. I feel like I have made my pilgrimage and paid homage. Tasty slivers of smoked salmon on a bed of rocket and chives, tucked in a warm soft pretzel, complete with a cool crisp glass of sauvignon blanc. The perfect Sunday brunch. We clink our glasses and propose a toast- to life, to food, to family, to friends and to NYC.

Then there is shopping. 5^th avenue, where the heart screams out in desire and the mind screams out reality! The angel and the devil are in the full throes of battle as we dart in and out of the shopping institutions of this city- maceys, Bloomingdales, saks.. need I go on? We settle on 2 shirts from the Gap as the angel won this round.

In almost every sci-fi apocalyptic movie, the aliens have shown that they too believe what the world believes- that NYc is the centre of the universe, and the mothership often finds its way right into the heart of Times Square. With more billboards than anywhere else in the world, boasting muscials, planet Hollywood, and YES the hersheys flagship shop, this is the Piccadilly circus the other side of the Atlantic.

After all the excitement of the last few days, it seemed fitting to finish it off with a visit to the 3 greatest monuments of this city-

The empire state building, once the tallest building in the world. The view from the top was one of the most breathtaking I had ever seen , even on a cloudy day like this. Every building, every road in NY could be seen from its observatory, the rivers and estuaries, the islands that surround the mainland, the bridges , the yellow cabs.. and as I looked up and shielded my eyes from the rays of sunshine that pierced through the dense clouds, I held my breathe as I took in the sight that met me.- the steel spire seemed to reach out and touch the heavens.
The statue of liberty. The symbol of freedom that met the immigrants who first set foot on this island. The symbol of hope to the Americans and indeed to the world. A symbol that perhaps, has gained even more significance after the incident that occurred 2 days after my 21^st birthday-sep 11 2001.
As I wove my way through wall street and the financial district of the world, I felt a sudden inexplicable apprehension- I was approaching Ground Zero . Here in this gaping hole, was where one of the 2 tallest buildings in the world once stood. Alhtough shocked at the time the sep 11 attacks occurred, I had a somewhat cynical view of the god bless America dramatics of the American media, and how American lives seemed to be worth more than those of others. But standing behind the tall steel barricades, and looking up at the plaque with the names of the victims of this horrific attack, imagining the tall twin towers ablaze and the people who perished, I found myself choking back a tear, for at that moment, I finally understood what it all meant- these people were innocent victims of a war that was not theirs to fight, and we, the people of the free world, might never be free again. We are fighting a faceless enemy , an enemy with a goal and ambition that conflicts with the very principles that make up the fabric of our civilised society.

Like the broadway shows that abound in NYC, the city itself is exciting, brimming with diversity, music, laughter, tears, sometimes euphoric, sometimes melancholy. The lights never dim, the show always goes on. And at the end of each performance, we all wish for an encore…But every party must come to an end.. and as I opened the door to my tiny apartment in the quiet, old school suburb of Notting Hill, I feel like I have come home, a place where I can actually get some sleep to rest my weary soul.

Whats so wrong?

2005-06-22T21:42:00.000+01:00

Cai, I remember you. I am glad you found my blog amusing. Not sure whats so amusing about it, but as long as you get some sort of enjoyment out of it..
D2, I realised the psychological reasons for the person that I am a long time ago. Something about neglect, fear of abandonment, and being told youre not good enough. But hey, as long as you work on it, life is about making yourself a better person.
AM you still havnt told me who the hell you are. As for what is so wrong about me, you are obviously missing the point. Its not so much that there is something wrong with me, but the fear that what I have may not be what the person I care about is looking for.
When I was living in Tokyo, I was seeing someone. He was special because we met just before my dad was diagnosed with cancer. When I was devastated, he was there to take care of me in this foreign city. But my father said, if a man does not make you a part of his life, then he is not right for you. And to my father, this man was not right for me. He was another person who said , we have such a good time together, but I just cant commit right now. Ah the big C!
1/1/2 years later, we were still in touch, going on holidays together even if we were living in 2 different cities. Today, i received an email from my best friend in tokyo. He was getting married!
It was a moment which made me want to laugh out loud. As i read the email, my eyes fell onto the chart of the index which monitors the volatility of the US stock market. Up, down, Up down... the irony.
Can we really put a label on relationships? friends, casual relationships, boyfriend, girlfriend, wife, mistress. The heart wants what it wants. Convenient compartments simply is our way of trying to simplify the things that life throws at us. We have to draw demarcations. As Dale Carnegie said, when we deal with humans, we are not dealing with creatures of logic. we are dealing with creatures brimming with emotions. We often do as our emotions tell us to, then find logical explanations for our actions.
For once, I really have no idea what the point of this blog is.
Cai, do you reckon, if we put all these amusing blogs together, I would have a best seller?

Im afraid to tell you who I am..

2005-06-21T21:45:00.000+01:00

I have had so many relationships in my 26 1/2 years, I dread to attempt at counting the actual number. In all, I have had one, yes ONE, relationship where I made an attempt at some level of emotional intimacy. Even then, I was practically coerced into it, and that was the longest r/s by far, all 1/1/2 years. My bf in that relationship made me read a book - I am afraid to tell you who I am, because that is all I have, and you may not like it. Bullocks. Well, that was what I thought at that time anyway.
When I think about my relationship patterns, I see the vicious cycle that inadvertently leads to the same vicious ending. In the beginning I am always Miss bravado, with her brave, i can handle you face. Then, when the walls that protect my vulnerability are threatened, I run. Yes, I run as hard, as fast and as far as I can. Because, what if you saw whoI really was. Would you like me then?

Today, I attempted to re-enact the oh so familiar final step of the cycle. but this time, he pushed me a bit harder. Tell me, what is it that is really on your mind> so i cannot give you commitment, but I am also not willing to just let you go. So I thought, to hell with it. Why not try something a little different? So i relented, and I let him in , just a tiny bit. The end result? He cstill could not commit to a relationship, but he wanted to see the other, not so positive, not so brave side of me. No strings attached. What? emotional intimacy with no strings attached? thats a new one! What happened to physical intimacy with no emotional burden?

We all try to hide our real self, to a certain extent. But the braver we try to be, the weaker we really are on the inside. And sometimes, you meet someone who wants to be your friend, who will be there for you, and is willing to give up the needs of the other head to meet the needs of your soul. He has never let me down before, so its a brand new feeling , to trust and to let myself go. Its not easy to let go of the ties that bind ur hearts, but with baby steps, the knots will loosen, and maybe, one day, I wont be afraid to tell you who I am. Because this is all I have, and I know you will love it.

Disaster averted

2005-06-20T22:27:00.000+01:00

So i get home last night all pissed ( whats new) only to be greeted by an email from my sister telling me that my mother has lunch plans with some boyfriend of hers?! Too pissed to deal with it, I decided to leave it for the morning, when i had a clear head. Unfortunatley i woke up with a massive hangover. Nevertheless I soldiered on. got to work and was greeted with a deluge of emails declaring the demise of the well laid plans for my mothers 50th birthday. What rubbish! Why should we can our plans because of one tiny glitch? with some great white lying skills, and manueavering, we were back in action! not only that, I spoke to the dude who had threatened to put a premature death to the queens birthday! he sounded cool.. was understanding . not that he had a bloody choice!

My sister put in her heart and soul into this. We couldnt let her down could we?
Dawn, Diane, if you dont learn anything from me, just rememeber there is ALWAYS a way .. and if there really isnt, dont give up at the first obstacle!!

Eureka!

2005-06-19T20:57:00.000+01:00

There are moments in our lives, when all that we ponder suddenly makes sense, and we have a Eureka moment. After weeks and days of observation, deliberation and over analysis ( daphne , over analyse? why i never..) As i sipped a cold crisp glass of wine and watched the sunset, all that had confused me suddenly made sense. He was pushing me, so he would not let any emotional expectations ruin the dyanamic of our relationship/ friendship.
Why repeatedly remind me that he was not able to be in a committed relationship, often at the most unneccesary moments? I had never given him any pressure, and he had always actively sought my company. I was the one who would always turn around and run from him. Even if I felt a twinge of sadness as we sat with our feet in the cold water of the princess diana memorial, the sun beating down on our faces, because there seemed to be so little passion in our pseudo relationship, I never attempted to push him to show more affection. Perhaps this is him. He did things to show he cared. He would brave the steps to the cafe to buy me my diet coke, write my referral letter late into the night and risk starvation so we could dine at the same time. This is him. Words are words, as I had seen from my italian admirer. His ardent declarations of love were just that. Words. He never followed through, never lived up to his promises.

So then i realised. I wasnt the one who needed convincing. For even if we would only be together in the way are now, I am happy. There is little risk of me falling desperately and crazily in love, so why worry? Suddenly, my eyes are open, my mind is clear, and I let myself feel. Coz i know how he feels.
EUREKA! I GOT IT!

ps the sun was amazing this weekend. Worked hard on my tan and my drinking skills. The tan was a success, but the drinking capacity leaves much to be desired!

When Dawn breaks

2005-06-18T22:46:00.000+01:00

No never did afc, what is that? dont worry about investment bankers.. they are the worst.. after lawyers. hehe. and yes. that is what i aspire to be..

today was a fabulous sunny summers day. we rollerbladed, sat by the princess diana memorial and tanned.. then it was bbq and lots of white wine on a sunny terrace ... then i had a thought.. my life. is as good as one could ask for.. even if the IB there were mocking a gbp40,000 a year salary. Hello?? i dont even make that much..

I watched the last episode of love at dolphin bay.. the story is of a girl who wanted to be a superstar. she reminds me so much of my sister, Dawn. Big beautiful eyes, pouty down turned lips , tiny frame and a voice like an angel. She overcame all adversity to become a star, the star that she deserved to be , and as much of a cynic i am, i shed a tear as i watched her sing on stage, her first concert. Because that is what i want my sister to become . A star.

Dawn, i feel guilty sometimes, because i have a life that many wish to have. And all i want is more for you. You are beautiful, you are strong , and you have a talent that i wish i had. No matter how many obstacles you meet along the way, no matter how tough the going gets, never lose sight of your dream. When you lose your way, when you think you want to give up, remember that your father is watching you. Remember that your family wants to see you up there on stage, singing with that god given voice, and close your eyes, and imagine your fans chanting your name. I will be there, in the crowd, and i will be filled with pride, as your father will be as he watches you from heaven. His daughter is a star, her music and her voice will fill the hearts of many.

Dawn, nothing in the world comes easy, and i know you will never give up. If i had your talent, i would not be in banking! But we are all given what we are given. I have drive and i do not desire to be in the limelight. But you, you have the aura of a star. So keep writing your songs, keep trying, and one day , we , diane, mum , valane and i , will be in the audience as you make your debut concert appearance. we will chant your name, our eyes will fill with tears of pride, because YOU are finally a superstar.

i love you dawn, and i will always be here for you. Good luck beautiful.

One step at a time

2005-06-15T21:39:00.000+01:00

Its been a LONG day. Getting caught up in the excitement of planning mums birthday part! well done Dawn for thinking of this idea in the first place!

Its almost final lucas is moving to NYC in the next month or two. yes perhaps its best to not think about it and enjoy it while it lasts.

today, I plucked up my courage and handed my CV to the head of the credit derivatives desk.. well not DIRECTLY .. but through someone on his desk whom i had trained before. Unfortunately I might have a huge task ahead of convincing him that I am really not that irritating... thats the tag that comes with the territory of being a bloomberg sales person.. I know for a fact he hates bloomberg for being a so called bully.. and so with my companys reputation becomes mine. I just hope i get a chance to undo the less than perfect first impression he has of me. It is a tad unfortunate as most other department heads love me.. except for HIM.. then again i know he is not a tough ass as he puts out.. as i have seen how he is with other people. All I can do now is let things rest for a while.. then hopefully an opportuntity comes up again.

I never thought that i would end up as a Sales person. well its different being a sales person in an investment bank. At least you are making lots of money, big deals and using your brain. I am surrounded by unmotivated and stupid people at work who spend the ENTIRE day complaining. My blog is my outlet.. otherwise i would implode.. at work.. you just make the best of the situation. So with all the best tools, news and information at my fingertips.. all i can do is to educate myself and wait for the right moment..

whats the hurry.. right?

Dawn you dont know where you will be next year.. that is true too.. so I am glad you are positive about it all! I take my jb in my stride.. but there are days when it gets so frsutrating because my job is soooo mindless and boring. and interacting with people at goldman sachs doesnt help. How great it would be to have the chance to be in that environment, motivated, pumped, dynamic and challenging...

lets see how it all works out

Paris. Vive La France!

2005-06-11T21:13:00.000+01:00

Ok Wen, please dont call me Che. It is to totally weird... but do tag. its very nice of you!

Just returned from a weekend in Paris. The city of lights, and definitely the City of Love. After much tactical organisation, Lucas managed to bluff his way into an early train to Paris, and I somehow managed to change my ticket ( which was apparently non exchangeable, so thank god for incompetent Eurostar staff). We were off to Paris on the same train, granted he was on business and i was in cattle class. I do applaud Lucas for his valiant attempts to get me upgraded and offering to pay for the upgrade. When we arrived at his hotel, which he had kept a secret from me as a special surprised, I was blown away. The Four Seasons George V! The plush 17th century interior contrasted beautifully with the modern designer flower arrangements, with lush stalks of purple flowers perched at gravity defying angle in tall crystal vases. The service was impeccable, the room had an intricate crystal chandelier, clusters of bittter walnut dark chocolate and sweet almond nougat welcome us, and the toiletries were nothing less than Bulgari! We proceeded to celebrate the start of our amazing trip with a glass of red wine in the terrace that overlooked the inner garden, then headed out to meet with his friends for a night of food, wine and french music. by 4am he and i were the last man and woman standing, well, sitting, and scoffing the most succulent steak washed down with another glass of crisp, cold Sancerre.
The next morning, I awoke in my lush king sized bed in the George V, the light of the beautiful parisian morning trying its best to penetrate the thick, brocade curtains. We walked by the Seine, and appreciated this rare moment- a lesuirely friday morning on such a beautiful day, in on eof the most beautiful cities in the world. We had breakfast of croissant, baguette with confiture and expresso, then it was time to bid au revoir- He had a meeting to clinch a million dollar contract, and i had an MBA to pursue.

My hotel room was a serious anti climax by ANY standards. The reception reminded me of a cheap chinese restaurant, I had to grope in the dark to locate the light to the staircase that would lead to me sad room, reminiscent of sleazy mid afternoon liasons. However my trip to INSEAD was fruitful. The presenter at the open day assured me that my GMAT score was more than enough, and it was my entire profile that would be considered. AS I strolled along the open spaces within the campus, I was taken aback by how secluded Fountainbleau was, with non of the vide of Paris. Is this really somewhere I could spend 1-2 months of my life?

On the train back to Paris, my thoughts fell to the magnitude of the underatking I was pursuing. Would I really be able to give up a year of my life to pursue an MBA, all out intense studying, networking, no salary, exorbitant school fees, then hopefully graduate and maybe get a job in my chosen field, only to have to repay a debt to my family?
the next morning I had breakfast at a quiant little cafe near my motel (yes, MOTEL), and as i ate, I observed the other customers, chatting in French, smoking like chimneys and drinking beer at 9 in the morning. Only in Paris...
As I walked around Primtemps with it designer shops and cute french sales staff, the doubts I had form the previous day resurfaced.
I have met a man who has everything I want in a person. Intelligent, confident, funny and in control of every situation. In his own words, he really likes spending time with me, BUT he is not able to commit right now. Ah, there is always a but. My heart tells me he feels the same about me as I do about him, and that Paris had had the same effect on his feelings as it has had on mine. If I choose to ignore his words, his actions prove that he wants to be with me. But my mind, ah the ever cautious and cynical mind, tells me to step back, turn and run.
In paris, Italian boy sent me a text to say I complete him and that he would change for me. That only made me surer that he is nothing I want. Which 34 year old man would think that changing for a person is the way to make a relationship work?

Paris was like a fairytale, but also a turning point. I miss my family, and I miss love. But whilst I have been looking for a place to settle my physical being, I have not yet found a place to settle my soul. No matter where I am, I will be lost if I do not find myself. In the cab on the way to George V, he told me he got an offer to move to NY with his firm. It WAS what he wanted he said. And now?

do fairy tales always end up happily ever after? I applied for a job with Goldmans today. What comes after, in family, love, career and happiness, who knows? But I will always have Paris!

The world according to Phillipe Starck

2005-05-26T18:28:00.000+01:00

D2, youre so right! i DO have a knack for making things sound as bad as they possibly can.. and then i attempt to see the better side of it. As Phillip Starck said, only people who are intrisincally Melancholy find the need to motivate themselves and to keep themselves occupied all the time. Hence is the Uber designer of our time..
Not that i would dare to compare myself to him! Someone once told me that our emotions are like the climate. Some are generally warm and happy all the time.. others are usually cold and desolate. Our moods are like the weather. Sometimes theres rain, sometimes its bright and sunny. But no matter what the weather, the underlying climate remains somewhat constant.

So thats the root of my character- Although some days the sun comes out and the world seems a beautiful place and the blue skies are the limit, some days the clouds are gray and the rain seems unceasing, my climate is uninhabitable to most.
Why else am i so meloncholy, and why else would i have to motivate myself on such a conscious level?

So yes.. thank you D2. Maybe it takes way too much effort to see all that can possibly go wrong then endeavour to make sure things go right. Wouldnt it be so much easier to start from ground level and reach for the sky, then to look at the stars from the gutter and aim to reach their heights?

You always have a choice...

2005-05-22T21:02:00.000+01:00

The last 2 weeks have been a time for decision and results. My GMAT was finally completed, applications are in and fingers firmly crossed. Met a professor of INSEAD yesterday at the Westbourne. He is a mate of a friend and we had great conversation. He pointed out that 670 was pushing it and that makes me jittery about my chances of getting into the business school i so DESPERATELY want. Despite his repeated assurances after getting to know me better over several glasses of wine that my personality makes me a sure thing, I continue to have my reservations. But then whats the point of worrying over something I have no control over? ah but no, we always have control. Hence my trip to INSEAD on june 10 will be somewhat of a mission. To meet and greet those who will have a part to play in deciding my fate, and to make a delible and positive impression. The rest, is up to God (so to speak).

I made 2 other decisions this week. I decided that my italian mate was just not right for me. He suffocated me with his passion, and he did not impress me with his inability to make decisions. Life is not about partying hard and looking beautiful all the time is it? We all have to make tough decisions, and putting it off till the next day is just ensuring that you will one day wake up realise that youre 40 and nothings really changed. So i put my foot down and bid him adieu. But for once in my life, i did not run. I faced up to my responsilibities, and the part i had played in the demise of this short lived relationships, and softened the blow for him as much as i possibly could. We all have to grow up sometime.

I decided that i would give my relationship with my mate, my client, a shot. He seemed like a player, but he had shown patience through these months. Everything seemed to be right. He was driven, funny, intelligent, a little selfish, then again, we all are. It seemed like bliss. Today we went to the park with my new roller blades, and after we tired of spins, 360s and the like, settled down to a lovely and ridiculously expensive and lousy lunch in the middle of st james park, skates and all. Then he dealt the dreaded 6 words- I have something to tell you. Turns out he and his ex gf of 7 years had started communicating again. She is living in Switzerland but is contemplating moving to london. so he thought honesty was the best policy. They might just get back together again, but nothing was certain and he would be happy to keep things between him and me the way they are now.

what does one do in a situation like this? through the rest of the day, through lunch, more skating, kingdom of heaven, I mulled over the best move. Then i decided I had to make a decision. I would let him go. He wasnt really saying, i am not sure what will happen. He was saying, lets keep things easy, so i can have some fun whilst she is away, and when we do get back together, well, i wont be the bad guy coz i already gave you a heads up. or maybe.. i am a paranoid freak!

so there you go. You make your bed and you rest in it. Any regrets? not really. I am just glad i realised i always have a choice, and its up to me to make the best decision. and to live with it.

I had a dream.

2005-05-14T16:33:00.000+01:00

I had a dream.. and in my dream a handsome prince swept me off my
feet. my kingdom is protected by the high walls i have erected to
protect my heart. and he came and he broke them down. he came, he
stole my heart, my soul , my very being.

and we were in love .. one summer . we were as in love as 2 people
could ever be. It was intoxicating, it was unquestioning, it was
transient and it was magical. and i knew that i would look back on
this moment and be grateful that once in my life, i had had such
unbridled love and passion.

so why do i fear? because to fear, is to be human. no one wants a
broken heart. no one wants to pine for ones love. Where is my prince
and will he return to my side before this summer is done? or will he
warm the bed of another? then shall i choose to be in the company
of another man, who is not my prince, but is willing to be by my side?

Whilst my prince has been away, I have been unfaithful. but my heart
is with him. And i pine for his return. my once cold heart is warm
with thoughts of him, and when i kiss another, i think of him. Because
he is the one who has captivated me, my very soul.

Be cold once more and you push me away. lie with another and i will do
the same. hold me closer and i will hold you closer. nothing lasts
forever. but whilst it exists, should it not be like a dream? perfect
in its every being, not tarnished by foreign thoughts, mistrust and
questioning.

You will have her for the rest of your life. so hold on to it. but for
one careless summer, let us rejoice in the decadence that is youth and
irresbonsibility. For if nothing , the memories one holds is precious.
they are the sands of time. give me your youth this summer your love,
your hands to hold, and you will forever more.. have this time to
cherish in your heart.
as will i.

One day...

2005-05-14T02:02:00.000+01:00

i need a new word for pissed. coz that just DOESNt do justice to the state i am in right now.

Culture- Power of the People, 4 the people, by the people?

2005-05-12T17:42:00.001+01:00

So Diane was enraged by a little class debate regarding the definition of culture. In her opinion, culture is determined by the people in power, apparently not necessarily referring to the authorities or the masses. Would be interesting to find out then, before we get to the definintion of Culture, what is her definition of Power?
If we are seeking an alternative definition of Power, perhaps we could define it as people with influence. Entreprenuers, Labour Unions, our teachers even! Obviously these people wield immense power over those who fall within their circle of influence. However, does this necessarily translate to cultural influence?
Culture in itself, could possibly be divided into separate fields. Organisational culture would most definintely be defined by those in power within the organisation. Societal culture, on the other hand, in my opinion, is the result of evolution. The strongest, most valued , most ingrained thoughts, morals, beliefs and practices are the ones which survive the test of time, and are what people generically accept as culture.
I could go on.. but my head hurts.
Maybe i will give more concrete evidence for my argument, which, may i add, might end up being a one sided debate anyway!

FREEEEEEEE

2005-05-11T19:32:00.000+01:00

Finally did my GMAT today! 4 intense hours.. and still didnt have sufficient time!! got 670, so slight disappointment as my target was 700. Only consolation was that I studied after work for 1/1/2 months so its not a bad score. so the application is in.. fingers crossed ..

so now its time to sit back relax and enjoy my summer!!! Euro Sunshine here i come!

LaVita Dolce.. really? Yes really!

2005-05-09T20:52:00.000+01:00

So i heard Valane had an amazing party with a V theme! she was Virgo, i Totally approve! and there was the fabulous visa card Cam, and Very beautiful Carol, and Voluminous, Voracious Melvin.. what a night to remember!
Party of the year at Marylebone on saturday, courtesy of a certain Italian . Theme? Spring time flowers. So i went as a french hooker complete with tight dress, net stockings with flower moteeeef, and huge ass pimple on my forehead, Blossoming in all its splendour!
It was a strange night. Ah. the hedonism of European culture. Hot latinos, hot music, tons of alcohol and other mind altering substances.. somehow i woke up at 8am to my italion stallino returning from an after party. seriously, who has the energy to party after a party? we lazed around whilst his best mate and my best mate lazed around in close proximity.. what a night!
Sunday was a write off of course..read- paralytic on a pub bench in the sun, sunglasses shielding massively bagged eyes and hungover faces, wine in hand to assist in curing ones hangover.... ah.. life is sweet indeed...

I finally got it

2005-03-27T11:17:00.000+01:00

Hi kids...
after nearly ONE year, i finally realised, if i do not refresh the tag board, i do not see any change.. was starting to feel unloved .. seeing that i had not received ANY new tags since like FORVER!
re the book, i have started ALL over again.. yes yes..
please leave tags. i finally worked out how this damn thing works..

2005-02-21T20:45:00.000Z

Introduction

A wise friend said to me once, when I was contemplating quitting corporate life and setting up a business of my own- you have to think about your reason for going into business. It is a very big challenge, and you will meet obstacles and possible failures along the way, and only by having clear goals and a good understanding of why you have chosen this path, will you find the strength to meet these challenges head on and not give up. I am not sure if it was because of this piece of advice, or because I really did not have a good business concept to begin with anyway, but I decided to shelve my business fantasies for the moment and stuck to my 8-6 job. Little did it occur to me, he had not simply given me a lesson in career changes, but a real lesson in life.

I have always been introspective and I think a great deal about things like “what is the meaning of life”, and why my relationships fail. I have been called over analytical and neurotic on more than one occasion, which I always shrugged off, well, externally anyway. I have always found that writing allows me to express myself with the least inhibitions, that writing my feelings and thoughts down allow me to look at things more clearly. When my father passed away rather suddenly from pancreatic cancer, at the age of 48, when I had just turned 25, I found myself embarking on a crazy emotional roller coaster ride. Between bouts of immersing myself in work, and crying my heart out alone in my tiny apartment in Tokyo, I wrote to my father in my diary, and that always gave me temporary relief.

The ride got more and more extreme as time wore on, and by the end of 2004, I thought I would have an emotional breakdown. I missed my family, I hated my job and the people around me, I was lonely and was turning more and more to substances to get through each day. The goals I had set to myself seemed meaningless and the one person I had always depended on for advice and direction, well, basically had passed away a year ago. On the surface I seemed to have it all- worked in 3 major cities by the age of 26, had 2 degrees, spoke 3 languages and had great friends and a loving family. Everyone thought I had great strength of character, being the pseudo head of the household, and having so much focus in life. In reality, I had never been more lost in my life. I was asking myself more and more what was the meaning of life, what I really wanted, and how could I make myself less unhappy.

Then in February of 2005, I made a trip back to Singapore to spend the Lunar New Year with my mother and 2 sisters. It was a cathartic experience, a life changing trip, and it was then that I found the answers I had been looking for. Turns out, I had been asking the wrong questions all along! The last year, I thought that I was simply going through what is commonly known a “quarter life crisis”, when 20 somethings start questioning their life decisions and goals, and try to find their place in society. I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders, having to be the head of the household, a role model for my 2 younger sisters and a support for my mother. Instead all I had done was make myself a victim. I felt like I had been thrust with these responsibilities, that life was unfair to my father, to my family and to me, and now I struggled to make things right.

The strength of the people around me, and the love and support they have shown allowed me to ask the right questions, and hence I found the right answers. This is the reason I decided to write this book. I have read many motivational books and felt that many of them are useful, but many also border on being preachy, dry and boring. This must have rubbed off on me, as at the peak of my obsession with inspirational reading material, my sister got tired of my over zealous crusade to rescue those around me from losing themselves in the so called abyss of depression, and told me to get a life!

I hope that through my book, I will help other young people who are searching for meaning in their lives to ask themselves the right questions to find the answers they are looking for, but also find amusement from the anecdotes I have included! I have been fortunate to have been blessed with a good life, to be surrounded by amazing people, some of whom I call my “guardian angels” and to have had opportunities that many others can only dream of.

This book is not an autobiography (heaven forbid I should think the 26 years of Daphne Wongs existence would be material for a best seller!), but a celebration of people, of love and of the journey we only have one chance to enjoy, the journey called Life. I have read many books on psychology, self help, motivation and the lessons I have learnt from these books, I have tried to implement in real life. Some were wise, others not so. But the main thing that remains is everything is an experience from which we can find some meaning, and every obstacle in life should be a challenge, one which will make us stronger.

I hope that you, the reader, will find hope, inspiration and direction from my book. We all look for a very simple thing in life, and that is happiness and god knows we can all do with some help! You could have the best sense of direction, but with the wrong map, you will never get to your destination. Not only that, the journey would be a rather unenjoyable one!

Each chapter is a part of my life which I feel has had a significant impact on me and has played a big part in moulding me into the person that I am. It is my hope that the reader will be able to empathise with some of these experiences, or at least enjoy the anecdotes this book offers.

I thought for a long time about how the book should begin, and decided that the best place to start was with the end.

So find a comfortable place to relax, have a latte, and enjoy the ride!

Chapter 1

Daddy

Anyone who has read motivational or self help books might have come across this suggested scenario- imagine you are at a funeral; your own. How would you like your eulogy to be? What sort of legacy would you like to leave behind? Loving wife? Caring mother? High flying CEO? Philanthropist. Only when you have a clear idea of your life goals, will you be able to make the right decisions to achieve them. In fact if your meaning in life is to join the circus and entertain the world, then start now so when you die, Bozo and the lion tamer will be there to send you off to the flying trapeze in the sky!

I doubt very much that Daddy had lofty ambitions as a young man; he was a bit of a rebel, climbing the neighbours trees and stealing their fruit; he smoked and drank and boasted of fights he got into at school *although the skin tight t shirts and bell bottomed trousers he used to wear throw a shadow on his credibility; it seems questionable that one should be able to engage in extreme physical movement in such constricting outfits! Daddy also had a bit of a reputation for being pedantic, almost bordering on obsessive compulsion- at the end of each school break , he would take a towel to class to wipe down his seat so as not to dirty his white pants.

Daddy left school at 16, and joined the company he would remain at for life, working his way up from machinist to becoming the first non American managing director. He was not a linguist, by any stretch of the imagination, and we were constantly amused by his brand of English. An exotic large green fruit with translucent juicy pulp became otherwise knows as a @pomeloaf@, which one would sly into large segments for consumption. A strapping, good looking bloke is what he would consider Hamsom, although I am not sure if being compared to the smoked meat of a pig is considered a compliment. His jokes were somewhat inconsistent- sometimes side splittingly funny, other times, well, lets just say if puns were the best sort of humour, then Daddy was your favourite late night stand up comedienne. Not convinced? Heres a classic-
there used to be 2 hotels that we would drive past on the way to our favourite little eating place. In between the 2 hotels was a small piece of land. One day we drove by and realised that a petrol station had sprung up there, to which daddy quipped – well , at least the hotels will never run out of GASTS…

Despite his occasional language faux pas, and undeniably unique sense of humour, Daddy was an excellent public speaker, and a man with vision. He led his life with conviction, and anyone who entered his life could not help but be touched by his sense of fairness and generosity. Daddy spoilt his family and friends, buying us expensive clothing and jewellery, lending his car to his brother in law whilst himself taking the bus. He took great care of mother when she was ill, and bailed out my mothers sister and brother in law when their businesses hit hard times. Yet he could not bear to spend $20 on a pair of shoes for himself, and his favourite after shave was a strangely coloured liquid $5 liquid going by the suspect name of Denim.

Perhaps the thing that I admired most about my father was that despite having strong principles, he never forced his beliefs on anyone else, least of all on his children. I asked him once, how he could stand going to the same company every single day for the last 20 years, and he simply said @ I like what I do@. How true that was, one can only guess, but he definitely had the right attitude; if you’ve got to do it anyway, you might as well be positive about it! Here was a man who made it to the top of his career by working long and hard, and yet his advice to me was to take risks in life, because you only have one chance at it. He never wanted me to live in Australia, but he gave me his blessings, believing that I had a right to live the life I wanted for myself.

When Daddy was diagnosed with cancer, I flew back from Tokyo to spend time with him. They say that when a person comes to the end of his life, he spends a lot of time reflecting, which I am sure Daddy must have done. In our chats, he spoke of his experiences, what he felt he had achieved, where he had failed, his regrets. When he recounted his first business trip, he started to cry-

“I had never been on a plane until then. Can you imagine how excited I was? I even went into the cockpit to speak to the pilots! As my company makes aeroplane parts, the flight itself was an eye opener for me. Look at you, only 24, and you’ve already been around the world. Remember not to take these things for granted because they came easily to you. Most people never get the same opportunities you’ve been given.”

I asked Daddy if he feared death, to which he replied “the only thing certain in life is Death (I am pretty sure someone mentioned taxes as well, but it didn’t seem necessary to bring that to his attention), so what is there to be afraid of? Don’t be afraid, take risks. You are young and only live once, you have nothing to lose. I was lucky to have achieved what I have by working hard, but if I didn’t have a family and responsibility, I would have done things differently.”

Daddy passed away 2 months later, and his funeral was a grand affair. The Chinese believe that the more important you are, the bigger your funeral should be * to be honest, it is my belief that the Chinese were the ones who coined the phrase – size is everything.* I sat at the front of the hearse as we led the procession to the crematorium. At the request of his 300 employees, we made a detour past his company building, and they all stood outside to bid their final farewell to the boss they loved and would dearly miss.

So he wasn’t an academic, although he did finally obtain a diploma in management at the age of 45. My best friend was somewhat bemused to be sharing lunch in the university canteen with an Uncle, and wasn’t too sure about having an after meal cigarette in his presence. His creative expressions were limited to the occasional foray into expensive home renovations, where he showed a distinct preference for a certain green/ brown combination, implementing this colour scheme in the bedrooms of 2 homes, 2 bathrooms, and as I would find out later, in his office AND the bathroom within his office, and let us not forget, his bath towels and bedspread. It is a relief to me then, that he chose a career in aeronautics and not interior design, which would most definitely have been a lot less successful!

What he was, however, was a loving husband, a compassionate boss, caring father, kind friend and a generous human being, who believed that one should give without any expectations, so as to live a fulfilling without disappointment. This was his eulogy and this is his legacy.

Whether we are rich or poor, CEO or owner of a little corner shop, the thing that makes us special are the people we touch in our lives and this is how I have found meaning in my existence

Take a moment to think about what would make your life worthwhile- if you were to die tomorrow, how would you like to be remembered? Then start right away, live your sly of life and live it Hamsomly!

happy birthday to me!

2004-09-10T22:51:00.000+01:00

twenty six ! what a time! i had an amazing dinner with 4 amazing chicks, who had been organising this for me behind my back! how sweet! dinner, drinks and then to the club! i had met each girl in a different city, and they all came from different parts of the world. its amazing how these things happen. it was at this moment i realised that what you have to show for in life is the people around you. of course i was super trashed.. haha.... and tomorrow night its drinks at Harlem with about 20 people i invited... it will be MASSIVE! oh but before that i have to move to my new shoebox studio... bleah!
after this weekend.. its time to hibernate.. my bank account and my body are screaming out in pain!

Finally Solitude again

2004-08-15T19:03:00.000+01:00

Had a great night friday! made curry and my mates came over with wine and other party favours. heheh... sat i looked for apartments.. yes i have to move again.. dammint.. more money on moving .. but on the bright side i am going to live alone again. i REALLY need my space.. hope i find something good.
finally did some shopping. on the 2nd last day of the summer sales! a pair of shoes on 75% discount!! lunch in hyde park. And the olympics are on! GO AUSSIEEE!!

Kevin rang me and that made my day!

fark meloncholy! what a brilliant day!

2004-08-09T19:24:00.000+01:00

ooooh yeah! cute boys and cracking the whip! thats what i am talking about

Melancholy and the unbearable lightness

2004-08-08T20:12:00.000+01:00

Thanks to the 2 girls who put in so much effort into getting my blogg up and running. i have had a strange couple of weeks. being alone at home, and also with some recent events, and my fathers death anniversary drawing near, I have been doing a lot more reflection *if that is possible!* i have realised a lot of things about the people around me, and about myself, the changes we have gone through. I always thought I was neurotic, moody and temperamental. then the other day, someone who is very simliar to me made me realise, its just melacholy. everything is always tinged with an underlying sadness or feeling of emptiness. nothing seems right until it is perfect. But when is perfect perfect? I thought about the words to put in the papers. "Thinking of you, your love, your wisdom, your strength, your laughter and your tears, makes my day. Everday of my life". The melancholy is an intrinsic part of me, what is an intrinsic part of you?