I don’t know who actually reads this and I don’t know who I’m really writing to and writing for. I’m guilty of perhaps using this blog as an outlet to communicate with the past.

And I think I need to stop because I don’t need to do it anymore.

I think I’ve come full circle with myself, and with the issues that has happened in my life. I can say I honestly am happy, and happiness isn’t something I’m convincing myself of nor is it something I’m seeking to define.

I’ve been going to bed happy for the past couple of months, each and every night, and waking up happy every morning. I think that is enough and I think that will continue to happen.

I still have my fears of course. Fears of bad stuff happening, but I’ve learnt to stop fearing as much as I used to. Because no matter how you fear, bad stuff could still happen. Everything’s going well now, if I could say, and I don’t need to write anymore to myself, nor to anyone.

I no longer need an audience. So long, farewell. To almost ten years of blogging.

I still love writing, but I don’t think it’s something I will lose if I stop blogging, though I do have that small little fear. There’s a part in me that is slightly exhibitionistic. I like to share stuff with people, people I know, people I don’t necessarily know. I like to share nice songs, lyrics, yummy food, interesting quotes, happy things, pretty things, the list goes on.

So to the exhibitionist-in-me, the monologist (if there even is such a word) in me, it’s finally farewell.

There are some things I’ve a good feeling I won’t lose – the love for writing is one, this happiness is another. =)

Blogging is over.

And yes, I’ve found my way back into love.

Did you just call me your princess????!!! It’s hilarious.

WHATSOFUNNYYY.

Don’t know, just very unlike you.

It’s Hello Kitty oil blotting paper by the way, packed in the shape of a cute little handbag. =)

Well, for sure, I don’t wish to turn back, not even for a moment. To rest on my laurels or to advance forward, definitely the latter, even if it means venturing into unchartered waters.

Two weekends potentially burned in May, I’m not even complaining one bit. I hate punching numbers into the calculator, I hate looking at numbers, but suddenly, SiMSCI and Forex pairs are my daily acquaintances. I’ve yet to make them friends because I still find them very repulsive. Yes I prefer futures commodities, they are alot friendlier, I hate hate double hate Forex. But oh I’ve to grow to love, or at least, like, okay, or maybe just not mind them.

I realise the importance of, or rather, the necessity to know the products before I can market something when I was staring at an ad for SiMSCI seminars and not really knowing exactly why I should be telling clients/potential clients that investing in the SiMSCI indices is to “invest in Singapore’s future” (as I see in the pre-existing ad). I had to ask my colleague to re-explain to me (all over again) what buying a stock index like SiMSCI or Nikkei really means. I really have to brush up on product knowledge.

Crazy lot to learn, it never ends.

Off to the gym now!

Super easy: Sundried tomato pesto. Farfalle pasta.  Parmesan. Lemon pepper salmon.

Because I had a really draining Monday. And a seemingly busy week ahead.
Happy though, because I’m learning new things all the time. =)

When I was younger I saw my daddy cry/ and curse at the wind.
He broke his own heart and I watched/ as he tried to reassemble it.

And my momma swore/ that she would never let herself forget.
And that was the day that I promised/ I’d never sing of love if it does not exist.

But darling/ You are the only exception [4].

Maybe I know somewhere/ deep in my soul/ that love never lasts.
And we’ve got to find other ways/ to make it alone/ or keep a straight face.
And I’ve always lived like this/ keeping a comfortable distance.
And up until now I’ve sworn to myself/ that I’m content with loneliness.
Because none of it was ever worth the risk.

Well you are the only exception.
You are the only exception [4].

I’ve got a tight grip on reality/ but I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here.
I know you’re leaving in the morning/ when you wake up.
Leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream.

You are the only exception [8].
And I’m on my way to believing.
Oh, and I’m on my way to believing.

I remember clearly the events of that night, and the day after. I picked up the call in the living room (at the old apartment where I lived), put down the phone after the news, and then spent a few minutes trying to decide if it were for real. Then I rang Singapore Casket (I was earlier told her body was resting there) and asked if there was a wake for someone by that name. The answer was yes, and they told me which room. I remember the ex-boyfriend telling me I was terribly brave to ring Singapore Casket because he thought it was “creepy”. Nothing creepy about it, really. Nothing creepy too when I went to the wake the next day. Not creepy at all, but very very surreal.

And today, I almost forgot to remember her this day, just like how I forgot to remember her during her last days. Tonight, I spent about ten minutes trying to remember which year it was that she left this world. I ended up asking my mom. 2007, my mom said with certainty. And she’s right. In 2004 we both enrolled into SMU together. We attended the pre-admission talks, sitting side by side in the Biotherm workshop. In 2005, she was a Miss Singapore Universe finalist. I remember the contest was aired live on TV in early March. A year on in February 2006, she was diagnosed with cancer. On 1 April 2007, she passed away.

I spent the last hour thinking about her. But just the once-a-year thinking of her (and perhaps some passing thoughts occasionally) isn’t enough to make up for my not being there, my not knowing, my not sensing of a friend’s needs. A friend who shared enough with me because of our similarities, but because we were both so similar we didn’t reach out to each other.

Once again, I’m an awful friend. And I’m reminded of this every single April First.

Or so I would like to think.

Cajun tofu.

Very savoury. Very spicy.

I think I could’ve gone easier on the cajun. =P

I topped it with fresh tomato slices. Awesome.

Before I begin my new job this Thursday and weekday dinner-making could very likely become a thing of the past.

Chorizo and  farfalle pasta. In sun-dried tomato pesto.

The hotel’s rooftop pool wasn’t as fabulous as I expected. In the late afternoon, it was more crowded than I would have liked. I was too sick to return the next evening for a drink at the bar.

The daybeds were awesomely clean though. They were white in colour – I loved that! Some of the decked beds had power points so laptops could be used while one sips on a pina colada. =)

For dinner on the first night, I had one of the best curry chicken ever at Madam Kwan’s. I said “one of” because I think there could potentially be something as good or better. The third day, I had THE most awesome otak – wrapped in banana leaves and steamed. Definitely the best I’ve ever ever had and probably ever will find.

The otak was at Little Penang Cafe, where I also had the fried kway teow. It a delight with each bite, terribly oily but I finished the entire plate. On the last day, I returned again to Madam Kwan’s for the famous nasi lemak (which I’ve been yearning for since day 1 but was too stuffed for it). The rice was simply simply awesome.

So in conclusion, all I remember of KL is Madam Kwan’s and Little Penang Cafe. As well as lots and lots and lots of time spent in KLCC.

I’m missing you.

It just occurred to me that at a certain point on Tuesday, at the same time, we were both more than 35,000 feet in the air. At different parts of the world of course. You returning from Frankfurt, and I was still within the Asia continent. I don’t think our planes flew by each other though. That would have been cute.

And because I was on my way out of Singapore when you were on you way back home on Tuesday, and I reached home on Friday evening and you flew off on Friday night, we totally missed seeing each other the past week. =(

I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. That short phone call on Friday night was too short. Whatsapp and text messaging help, but they just aren’t quite the same as being close to you.

You are probably more than 35,000 feet in the air right now, again.

And I am missing you, again. This time, quite a lot. =(