A few weeks ago, I walked into Popular bookstore and checked out the top 10 best-selling books like I always do. Surprisingly, I discovered Mitch Albom's new title - The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto - and, needless to say, I purchased a copy.
For years since reading Tuesdays with Morrie, I converted to an advent Mitch Albom reader. I cannot recall a time I didn't enjoy his books. And I still marvel at the way his words move me and the way his stories leave behind rankling yet oddly comforting food-for-thoughts.
I might be at a somewhat uncertain point yet it could also well be the pinnacle of my life but I'm young and because I'm still young, I'd like to think I still have the luxury to bask in uncertainty and take risks I probably would never have the guts to when I'm 30-something. Is this what they call a premature quarter-life crisis?
Yesterday marked the end of half the semester, which means to say I have just 8 weeks left before my 16 years of formal education comes to an end. Being the product of the Singaporean education system, I suppose I've done pretty well making it this far.
Looking back on the last 16 years, it sure has been one hell of a journey. A lot of blurry memories remain from my younger years like the way I forced myself to swallow my tears on the first day of Primary 1 because all the other kids weren't crying, how I spent my entire Primary 5 writing love letters to my crush (talk about dedication!), the progressively rough games we played with the boys, hopping onto the neoprints bandwagon (I have a whole pouch full!) because it was the rave, the Saturday mornings spent with my Girls' Brigade contigent, spending $0.30 on a pack of chips everyday, visiting the bookstore and how it fascinated me every single time, the after-school classroom duties (we used to poke through the ceiling panels with our broomsticks!) to finally sitting for my PSLE and graduating with the cohort I grew attached to.
So, no, I can't change my past. I can't change the distasteful people I've met or the disgusting experiences I've gone through. But I'll take the good with me. I'll take the merry memories and thrash the awful ones. And with that, I'll keep crafting a better future.
University wasn't quite as exciting but now that I'm reaching the end, it sure sends a surge of nostalgia down my spine.
Since we began our final-year project, I've had lesser time with Melly, Kat and Banana. I attribute my survival through the last three years to them because traveling to Pulau NTU everyday is no easy feat. But I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed and embark on the hour-and-a-half journey to (and fro) school.
When the semester began, I knew what it was going to be like all of us frantically trying to finalise our final-year projects. They'd be spending hours in the editing suite while I'd be typing crazily away at my computer. But... I guess I still needed a cathartic outlet because a lot of thoughts surface at night and stay with me for days.
Job-hunting has been tough. I wonder if I'm over-worrying because I'm still an undergraduate. Maybe I'd be more desirable once I'm done with school? Who knows, right. Here I am, constantly reminding myself that there's no hurry but it's definitely not working out the way it should.
On the bright side, I've put my freelance writing assignments on hold. I... unfortunately, don't have time for that now. I hate to say it but freelancing really takes up a lot of time. I never realised it till I put it all down. Even though seeing my work published in reputable magazines gives me a huge sense of accomplishment, the process is befitting an ordeal and often requires me to be at the back and call of my editor. Ain't nobody got time for that now.
I'm still teaching on Sunday mornings but I also most recently took up a private tuition assignment. I'm trying to convince myself that since this student is in the same level as the class I'm already teaching, it's not exactly extra work. Besides, it's just one hour every week and I've a direct bus there. Not complaining, not complaining.
I know my mom would much prefer if I could secure a full-time job now but her only advice thus far is: go for government jobs because corporate comms will give me an edge above the rest and I can always do writing in the future. But what if I don't want to do writing later? What if I want to do writing now?
Anyway, it might sound like common sense but during one of the career fairs, we dropped by some government agencies booths and someone told us that there is pay discrimination depending on the class of one's honours. I was quite taken aback even though I probably shouldn't have been. I mean, it's the same everywhere. Whether government or not, everyone's going to judge me and my worth based on the class of my honours.
So the next step is to apply with the private sector. Thankfully, there are a lot more writer positions available on Jobstreet. (It's such a handy portal to search and apply for jobs on the go.)
In the meantime, however, I've got to find means to support myself.
That's what scares me - being fully self-sufficient without any cushion to fall back on. (I really mean the inconsistent school allowance from my brother.)
I'm reading so many articles on how to manage your finances and it sounds like a burden - one I would love to do without. Watching the adults shoulder their own financial responsibility makes me want to distance myself from the whole financial planning thing even more. I don't want to grow up yet. I mean, I don't feel ready to take on that kind of responsibility yet.
Do I not sound like I'm whining yet?
Ugh, job-hunting aside. I have allocated the rest of my time to school, final-year project and teaching. It also took great effort to incorporate my workouts back into my routine. After the week-long Chinese New Year break, I was almost losing it.
For years since reading Tuesdays with Morrie, I converted to an advent Mitch Albom reader. I cannot recall a time I didn't enjoy his books. And I still marvel at the way his words move me and the way his stories leave behind rankling yet oddly comforting food-for-thoughts.
"But you cannot change your past, no matter how you craft your future."One of my favourite lines from yet another inspirational and heart-warming read, this line resonates so loudly with me.
I might be at a somewhat uncertain point yet it could also well be the pinnacle of my life but I'm young and because I'm still young, I'd like to think I still have the luxury to bask in uncertainty and take risks I probably would never have the guts to when I'm 30-something. Is this what they call a premature quarter-life crisis?
Yesterday marked the end of half the semester, which means to say I have just 8 weeks left before my 16 years of formal education comes to an end. Being the product of the Singaporean education system, I suppose I've done pretty well making it this far.
Looking back on the last 16 years, it sure has been one hell of a journey. A lot of blurry memories remain from my younger years like the way I forced myself to swallow my tears on the first day of Primary 1 because all the other kids weren't crying, how I spent my entire Primary 5 writing love letters to my crush (talk about dedication!), the progressively rough games we played with the boys, hopping onto the neoprints bandwagon (I have a whole pouch full!) because it was the rave, the Saturday mornings spent with my Girls' Brigade contigent, spending $0.30 on a pack of chips everyday, visiting the bookstore and how it fascinated me every single time, the after-school classroom duties (we used to poke through the ceiling panels with our broomsticks!) to finally sitting for my PSLE and graduating with the cohort I grew attached to.
But not for long.
Primary School was probably the most carefree years of my entire education journey. Grades were important but I had lesser commitments, lesser decisions to make and, more importantly, lesser worries. All I needed to do was study... and play. And if I dare say, the games we played back then were less complex and were all in the name of fun.
As I grow older, I realise the adults have a weird fetish for office politics and while I've not (yet) had to suffer at the hands of nasty senior colleagues or manipulative bosses, I know how ugly it can get. There's such a thin line between ambition and greed.
Then came my puberty years at Crescent. I used to say those 4 years were the best but that was before JC.
I had a conversation with Melly a couple of days ago and I admitted that Secondary 4 was my loneliest year. My class was divided into multiple cliques and I didn't fit into any. My group of girlfriends were in the other classes and they, too, had their own cliques in their respective classes. I brush it off now because I'm comfortable being on my own but back then, the 16-year-old me felt abandoned and so damn lonely.
The day our O-level results were released, I was in disbelief and I remember Charlotte saying: "Don't cry ah. I know that face, you're gonna cry." And I did.
Sometimes, I wonder where all my friends have gone. Apart from the annual or biannual meet-ups with the badminton team, I don't keep in contact with any of the friends I made at Crescent.
I only got closer to Melly and Nisa, both of whom graduated from the same class as I, after Crescent. And the ol' friend? Well... I don't know. Perhaps she's too busy and the time difference makes it hard to keep up with one another.
JC was great. Despite the uncalled for backstabbing, team politics and inevitable sense of betrayals that ensued, I made real friends.
It was hard to spend two years there but the class wasn't divided. Everyone was everyone's friend. I've never said it but I really, really love the way we'd all return to the same benches in the canteen for recess everyday. It was like an untold agreement that those particular rows of benches belonged to us. (It was probably the same for the other classes, which was why I always saw the same people at recess.)
Primary School was probably the most carefree years of my entire education journey. Grades were important but I had lesser commitments, lesser decisions to make and, more importantly, lesser worries. All I needed to do was study... and play. And if I dare say, the games we played back then were less complex and were all in the name of fun.
As I grow older, I realise the adults have a weird fetish for office politics and while I've not (yet) had to suffer at the hands of nasty senior colleagues or manipulative bosses, I know how ugly it can get. There's such a thin line between ambition and greed.
Then came my puberty years at Crescent. I used to say those 4 years were the best but that was before JC.
I had a conversation with Melly a couple of days ago and I admitted that Secondary 4 was my loneliest year. My class was divided into multiple cliques and I didn't fit into any. My group of girlfriends were in the other classes and they, too, had their own cliques in their respective classes. I brush it off now because I'm comfortable being on my own but back then, the 16-year-old me felt abandoned and so damn lonely.
The day our O-level results were released, I was in disbelief and I remember Charlotte saying: "Don't cry ah. I know that face, you're gonna cry." And I did.
Sometimes, I wonder where all my friends have gone. Apart from the annual or biannual meet-ups with the badminton team, I don't keep in contact with any of the friends I made at Crescent.
I only got closer to Melly and Nisa, both of whom graduated from the same class as I, after Crescent. And the ol' friend? Well... I don't know. Perhaps she's too busy and the time difference makes it hard to keep up with one another.
JC was great. Despite the uncalled for backstabbing, team politics and inevitable sense of betrayals that ensued, I made real friends.
It was hard to spend two years there but the class wasn't divided. Everyone was everyone's friend. I've never said it but I really, really love the way we'd all return to the same benches in the canteen for recess everyday. It was like an untold agreement that those particular rows of benches belonged to us. (It was probably the same for the other classes, which was why I always saw the same people at recess.)
JC was great. I miss those days. Sure enough, Physics, Chemistry and Economics lessons almost killed me but I had friends to turn to for help. And they always did that tireless favour with no complains.
Some of the people I hold dear to me today were the people I met during those two years. Yes, yes, I had a horrible stint in my first year - lost a friend, fell out with the ol' friend, forced to leave the team; but the second year made up for it.
So, no, I can't change my past. I can't change the distasteful people I've met or the disgusting experiences I've gone through. But I'll take the good with me. I'll take the merry memories and thrash the awful ones. And with that, I'll keep crafting a better future.
University wasn't quite as exciting but now that I'm reaching the end, it sure sends a surge of nostalgia down my spine.
Since we began our final-year project, I've had lesser time with Melly, Kat and Banana. I attribute my survival through the last three years to them because traveling to Pulau NTU everyday is no easy feat. But I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed and embark on the hour-and-a-half journey to (and fro) school.
When the semester began, I knew what it was going to be like all of us frantically trying to finalise our final-year projects. They'd be spending hours in the editing suite while I'd be typing crazily away at my computer. But... I guess I still needed a cathartic outlet because a lot of thoughts surface at night and stay with me for days.
Job-hunting has been tough. I wonder if I'm over-worrying because I'm still an undergraduate. Maybe I'd be more desirable once I'm done with school? Who knows, right. Here I am, constantly reminding myself that there's no hurry but it's definitely not working out the way it should.
On the bright side, I've put my freelance writing assignments on hold. I... unfortunately, don't have time for that now. I hate to say it but freelancing really takes up a lot of time. I never realised it till I put it all down. Even though seeing my work published in reputable magazines gives me a huge sense of accomplishment, the process is befitting an ordeal and often requires me to be at the back and call of my editor. Ain't nobody got time for that now.
I'm still teaching on Sunday mornings but I also most recently took up a private tuition assignment. I'm trying to convince myself that since this student is in the same level as the class I'm already teaching, it's not exactly extra work. Besides, it's just one hour every week and I've a direct bus there. Not complaining, not complaining.
I know my mom would much prefer if I could secure a full-time job now but her only advice thus far is: go for government jobs because corporate comms will give me an edge above the rest and I can always do writing in the future. But what if I don't want to do writing later? What if I want to do writing now?
Anyway, it might sound like common sense but during one of the career fairs, we dropped by some government agencies booths and someone told us that there is pay discrimination depending on the class of one's honours. I was quite taken aback even though I probably shouldn't have been. I mean, it's the same everywhere. Whether government or not, everyone's going to judge me and my worth based on the class of my honours.
So the next step is to apply with the private sector. Thankfully, there are a lot more writer positions available on Jobstreet. (It's such a handy portal to search and apply for jobs on the go.)
In the meantime, however, I've got to find means to support myself.
That's what scares me - being fully self-sufficient without any cushion to fall back on. (I really mean the inconsistent school allowance from my brother.)
I'm reading so many articles on how to manage your finances and it sounds like a burden - one I would love to do without. Watching the adults shoulder their own financial responsibility makes me want to distance myself from the whole financial planning thing even more. I don't want to grow up yet. I mean, I don't feel ready to take on that kind of responsibility yet.
Do I not sound like I'm whining yet?
Ugh, job-hunting aside. I have allocated the rest of my time to school, final-year project and teaching. It also took great effort to incorporate my workouts back into my routine. After the week-long Chinese New Year break, I was almost losing it.
But allow me to document this phenomenonal determination and that is special mention to my discipline at staying away from the tempting evil goodies. I will never forget how I chunked down all that bak kwa some years ago and piled on 2-kg.
That was also when I was still consuming pork. But recently, I chanced upon a video while browsing my Facebook timeline and it showcased the reality of the commercialized food industry - how chickens, especially, are treated to satisfy the growing demand - and I felt so disturbed. I haven't eaten chicken in the last two days.
This could be a blessing in disguise but my body is shutting down real quickly with this impending fever so I'm surviving on fish for protein. (Please don't try to start educating me.) I'm making small steps to altering my diet. It's a huge decision for a meat-eater like myself but for ethical reasons, I somehow feel I'd be more at ease with myself if I changed my eating habits.
So after a week of intense workouts, I finally felt a little more alive. The inertia is real and some days, my body actually feels so unbelievably heavy! I was, again, unmotivated and immersed myself a little too much in the festive mood. It was such a challenge getting back on track! But now that I am, I'm going to try to be more consistent. (I always try, I know.)
Nonetheless, 七転び八起き (Nanakorobi yaoki; Fall down seven times, get up eight) right?
So after a week of intense workouts, I finally felt a little more alive. The inertia is real and some days, my body actually feels so unbelievably heavy! I was, again, unmotivated and immersed myself a little too much in the festive mood. It was such a challenge getting back on track! But now that I am, I'm going to try to be more consistent. (I always try, I know.)
Nonetheless, 七転び八起き (Nanakorobi yaoki; Fall down seven times, get up eight) right?
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