It’s been a year since Seattle – and within the past year, so much has happened. Perhaps Daddy God designed Life in such a way that there will always be bumps along the way to regulate those otherwise escalating exhilarating moments. The last quarter of 2011 brought one bump too many. But life will (painfully, but surely) go on. And it has been.

For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

.

Chinese New Year has always been synonymous with food, especially in my dictionary. Three consecutive nights of reunion dinners with different families – the first with Momsy’s side of the family, the second an authentic HK-style steamboat dinner with Peds and family and last but not least, reunion dinner at home with Popsy’s side and Peds. It’s pretty much the same routine every year, except for two things.

For one, it was the first year of reunion dinners with Peds – for the past two years, if he wasn’t in the US of A, I was. Secondly…the lack of a Peranakan reunion dinner at home this year. We’ve always had a Peranakan meal to stay true to our roots (or part thereof) every CNY and Yeh Yeh would place the order for the dishes that our tastebuds had become accustomed to. But I suppose when he left, this ‘tradition’ slowly left too. The dining room was a little quieter, and spirits a little more dampened. Conversations continued and laughter still rang through the room, but they were drowned out by a lurking disturbing emptiness. This would take a few more years of getting used to.

I entered in the most dramatic way amidst a blizzard; of living in the airport like hobos and going through multiple flights and redirected landings,

To the country that…

I found myself living in and adapting to over the span of half a year; making snow angels in the snow in my Wee Tee & fbts, of ten-minute daily walks (and more often runs) to school in the morning, of seeing the barren trees bear fruit, flowers and luscious green leaves, of Seattle the city ever so friendly, so welcoming and so pretty, of travelling with friends who’d become just like family, of my few first times here (the cartilage piercing and of driving in the states, of happy edibles and snowboarding, of cycling across the Golden Gate Bridge and of leaving my soul behind at the fun-packed theme parks in LA, and the list will go on).

To the country where…

I learnt that Junk Food of all kinds comes really cheap. I will miss $3.99 Ben & Jerry’s, $3.99 Haagen-Daz and $3 Dreyers. I learnt that almost everything can be instant, such as grocery store checkouts, credit card roadside parking, cereal, Campbell’s soup and Chunky meals; and that vegetables can be frozen and still be rather palatable. I realised that I will never take a Victoria’s Secret sale lightly ever again. I also learnt that when you have such a place as ‘In N Out Burger’, no other fast food joint will ever be as satisfying again.

To the country in which…

I discovered the joys of drunken rock band, drunken texts, drunken conversations, drunken videos, flaming lambos, test tube shots, drinking goggles, 5/10, the drinking goggles game while drunk, drunken skype, drunken dancing, mudslides, bubba gump, memes, socially awkward penguins, engrish.com and adorable sea creatures (of duckies, sea lions and otters), listening and bopping along to different genres of music that I’d never imagined I’d be listening to, as well as the unparalleled happiness derived from sitting by the window and taking in the sun with a good cup of tea on the side.

To the country that…

Made me discover how slow I am at warming up to places and people, and how slow I am at leaving these same people and places behind.

To the country where…

I developed friendships that I know will last.

And last but not least,

To the country that I have grown to love and live in…

It has been a great time that cannot possibly be fully described in words (No, really, one would be better off browsing through the over 5000 photos I have on Facebook).

So, nearly six months, xx kg, 31 FB albums, 2 scratched cars, 1 ear piercing and many many memories later, it’s finally time to go home.

Land of Stars and Stripes, you will be sorely missed.

Something that would tug on the Singaporean Viewer’s heartstrings. Something that would make them stop, slow down and smell the familiar scent of the very neighbourhood that they call Home. I want to show the world the happiest – and most often forgotten – bits of my country. Of friends, of community, of void decks, of revisiting old heritage places and of capturing the smiles of our happy elderly folk.

I want to make lighthearted but sincere documentaries. Documentaries that capture the very essence of being Singaporean; documentaries that would make every Singaporean, both local and overseas, smile.

Is this humble dream of mine too unrealistic?

Like dreams, the inspiration to write seems so vivid when I’m spontaneously crafting a post in my mind – but slowly dissipates in the few seconds I take to navigate to my Dashboard. Slowly but surely that once-coherent post becomes nothing but fragments of information that I’ve to painstakingly piece together like messed up jigsaw pieces. Before long, the initial burst of excitement to immortalize my thoughts into words seems to slip away.

**

Listening to soothing Lifehouse tracks to prep myself for their concert in two days (not that I need any; Lifehouse has been on a daily constant replay) while slumped against the pillow, all tucked in snugly under the comforter – my idea of an ideal Thursday night.

“How can I stand here with You, and not be moved by You?” – I love how most of Lifehouse’s songs can be related to the faith I hold so dear, and how they can so easily be sung in a humble worship session during a Sunday church service. “‘Cause You’re all I want, You’re all I need, You’re everything”

**

The past weekend was the most beautiful weekend I’ve had in Seattle. We spent it snowboarding at Stevens Pass – a snow-capped mountain with breathtaking view just over a 2 hour drive from the U-District. It seemed all too surreal to find myself on the ski-lift, looking down to the sea of white at least three metres below and feeling the snowflakes crash into my face as the lift brought me to the top of the mountain. How I would be smiling like a nut as I glided down that same mountain on my snowboard – and how I’d still be smiling even after falling flat on my face or on the posterior. The snow – as smooth as silk, soft, so white and unblemished – could easily be likened to that of a baby’s skin. I saw many children, almost all of them much braver than I, unafraid to fall, unafraid of the potential pain and dangers of the sport – unafraid of almost everything up there – oblivious of their surroundings and blatantly having fun. Arcade Fire was spot on when they lamented how our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up – we become more fearful of pain and become more afraid to fall. We lose the childlike innocence that we once had many years before, trading it in for a heart full of suspicion, deceit, malice and distrust. Of course, among the blemishes we develop as we grow up, there’ll always be a special place in our hearts for those we love and for all the things in the world that make it ever so beautiful. And it is this part of my heart that was tingling the most while up at Stevens Pass – it was itching to be able to share that beautiful experience and those unforgettable memories with the ones I hold dear, those who take up that little unblemished corner of my heart.

view from the ski-lift

No other Earthly Place I'd Rather Be

Familiar Sights

Whenever I tell anyone how much I can’t wait to go home, I pretty much get a standard response: “You mean you’re not enjoying it here?”

As I was telling Tong during one of our many late night roomie talks by the bedside, there is a limit to how long your heart can remain in a new country. There are only so many sights to see, only so many conversations to listen in to, only so many new places to go – before your heart tells you that there’s really nothing like home. And it’s true – there’s nothing like good ol’ sunny Singapore – no matter how much we may complain about it.

I miss so many things about the country I call home – of course with the Family and Loved Ones topping the charts without a doubt. Besides that, I miss the familiarity of the country that I’ve called home for the past 20 years. I miss being able to walk out of the house and down Pasir Panjang road to the bus stop just opposite, knowing exactly which bus to take and exactly what bus stop number to Iris, tapping my wallet against the ez-link card reader and thinking nothing of it. I miss being able to come home late at night and know that 1) I’ll be safe and 2) I’m coming home to a warm family, familiar room and familiar sights. I miss knowing where to find everything and anything, I miss driving down the ECP late at night after spending time with the dearest. I miss having home-cooked dinners with the family – there’s nothing like sitting down at the dining table with the kids chattering, adults chattering and Disney channel blending in nicely in the background. I miss stoning at the dining table after dinner and polishing off that heap of sambal kangkong that’s got a taste only unique to home, occasionally with Daddy who’d be peeling oranges and fruits for Mommy, who’d probably be downstairs completing a new Korean drama – for the 5th time. I miss my smelly soft toy Happy, my loft bed and comfy comforter, my room with the “Audrey’s Room” sign hanging down on top of the switch panel – a gift from The Bestie many, many years ago. I miss breakfasts at Chinatown with Mama, enjoying a pretty bowl of Cantonese-style Pork Porridge with intestines and pigs innards and an egg added – just the way we like it. Bus 143 would take us right from home to Chinatown and back home. I miss how I’ve slowly become acquainted with the different vendors at Smith Street hawker centre – because Mama goes there ever so often, friendly conversations ensue and they become fast friends over time. I miss how we’d stop by the clothes store downstairs after breakfast and Mama would always check with the lovely lady if she had any new stock.

I miss Singapore and all its Singlishness. I miss how you can find just about any type of food anywhere – at wallet-friendly prices too. I miss the familiar smell of NTUC, of the roads, of the neighbourhoods, of the hawker centres. I miss the familiar sounds, the familiarity of the dialects, way of speaking, channels on television and driving on the right side of the road. Heck, I even miss how the pedestrian traffic lights are green and red in Singapore, not dirty white and red.

I am enjoying my time in Seattle, don’t get me wrong. But there is so much back home that’s worth going back for, so much to make me want to count down the days till I can finally walk through the gates of the humble house along Pasir Panjang Road once again.

Home

**

So this post has been saved as a draft and its existence nearly forgotten for a good three days. In those three days, we went to the Seattle Outlet Mall, a private after-hours Victoria’s Secret shopping event in Bellevue and the weirdest funky costume store humbly tucked away by the side of the road, ending it off with a mini potluck dinner at Jerome’s, where I took advantage of the fact that my poor abused stomach walls seemed to show some hints of full recovery and proceeded to abuse nourish them with a little Heineken during an improvised version of Beer Pong.

I subsequently forgot that I had ingested some alcohol and went on to nibble on Est’s homemade cupcakes with half a cup of milk. Pure genius. Needless to say, my stomach began to revolt again and I slept through my morning class the following day all dizzy and out-of-form.

The week ahead shall see me eating grass for the greater good of mankind and preparing for two things – a possible ski-trip that threatens to set me back by yet another $100 and a three-page essay that’s due the following Monday. Priorities.

Slightly morbid how I titled the post after a little hiatus. But Mitch Albom’s “Have a Little Faith” contains so many quote-worthy paragraphs and snippets, I just felt I had to immortalize this one on the web.

Sunrise from the Plane

Life is beautiful
We live until we die.
When you run into my arms, we steal a perfect moment.
Let the monsters see you smile, let them see you smile.
And do I hold you too tightly?
When will the hurt kick in?

Life is beautiful, but it’s complicated.
We barely make it, we don’t need to understand.
There are miracles, miracles.
Yeah, Life is beautiful.

Our hearts, they beat and break.
When you run away from harm, will you run back into my arms?
Like you did when you were young?
Will you come back to me?
And I will hold you tightly when the hurting kicks in

Stand where you are, we let all these moments pass us by.

It’s amazing where I’m standing, there’s a lot left we can give.
This is ours just for a moment, there’s a lot left we can give.

Waiting up for our flight to JFK – and we’ve just heard news that there’s a blizzard going on and the temperatures are somewhat hovering around -6 degrees celcius. This is going to be exciting.

If all goes well, we depart for our flight on the lovely Qatar Airways at 0800 local time.

Here’s to 14 more hours of inflight entertainment, sleep and good food.

And here’s to the start of 6 months of missing you. Deja-vu, much. But we’ll survive!

1) Before it began:
- Damn you dead scholars are you sure I’ve studied enough for COM207!
- Die. My GPA this sem is going to suffer and it cannot afford to drop any lower if not I’d have to say bye to second-uppers and all that shiz.
- Scared shitless & irritatated
- Will settle all exchange stuff after exams.

2) During the Exams:
- Hey that first paper wasn’t too bad after all omg we cleared COM207 no moar dead scholars yay.
- Shit I don’t feel like studying anymore because COM207 was that one (and only) hurdle my brain figured it had to cross.
- Okay still need to study because of the GPA.
- Eh I realised I dont have much time after exams before I fly. Better take a look at admin stuff for exchange.

3) Nearing the End of Exams:
- Why is this taking so damn long to end. Why is COM257 on Tuesday and why don’t I end this week with many many others? Oh why oh why.
- EAR801 – S/U: HA! COM257: Damn why didn’t I do my readings during the semester. Now I have to read about sex, violence and frightening media content fast.
- Oh be gone with the GPA shiz. I’m going to Seattle.
- In a clearer state of mind: GPA isn’t all. Heck I don’t even need my GPA to get me where I want to work at. Don’t see why people would kill to pull their GPA up – scoffs! Would never, ever be anywhere else but in WKWSCI. Whoo!
- Okay now Qatar’s inflight entertainment list >>> COM257 and EAR801.
- Also what should I do after exams and how should I cram meeting friends before the 26th?
- Irritated >>>>> Scared