Remember I mentioned in my Gold Coast graduation trip travelogue that travelling makes or breaks your friendship? I shared my worries with Chelsea before we departed, but we were fairly certain that we'd do fine since we shared the same interest and were the same kind of travellers (i.e. damn kiasu, everything also must try HAHA).
By the end of our Hong Kong travels, I was so glad I brought her along because travelling together defined Chelsea and my friendship and we've been closer than ever since our grad trip... two years ago. I can't believe I'm so behind my backlogs I'm only writing about my Hong Kong trip now when I already look very different from the photos taken then :')
I actually wrote this post in 2017 but never got down to publishing it for god knows what reason. Our travel dates were 7 March 2016 to 11 March 2016 for reference, so you know how much I procrastinated. I also lost the psd file to my cover photo so only the prelude post will have a cover photo hahhahaha.
This Hong Kong travel was significant for me because it was my first time taking a flight alone! There's a long story behind why Chelsea and I flew separately despite heading to the same destination — this epic story, which most of my ex-colleagues were familiar with, was probably my friends' favourite story in 2016 because I was filled with so much salt I possibly had higher salinity level than the Dead Sea.
You have time? Good. Grab some popcorn, it's story time.
我们的距离 到这刚刚好
不够我们拥抱 就挽回不了
用力爱过的人 不该计较
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有人说爱情是一种冒险,赢了相守一生,输了连朋友都没得做。我觉得爱情很难,时间错了也只能擦肩而过,时间对了也要遇到对的人。
我想每个人心里,最不下的人就是那个命中注定偏偏只能插肩而过、忘不了却求不得、有缘无份、最热售的陌生人。
那晚只能望着你,提醒自己, 这虽然是我曾握过的手,但他不是一辈子会牵着我的伴。
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| "Returning to where dreams began" |
Caught Take Me to The Moon a few days ago, on my birthday. It's obvious by now that I love everything Taiwanese so watching Take Me to The Moon was naturally a requisite on my birthday. If I can't travel to Taiwan, then I'll bring Taiwan to me. I won't drieve too much into the movie yet because I want to keep the movie review for another day but Take Me to The Moon spoke to me.
「只要你努力追求自己的夢想,你就是最完美的。」
For those unaware, my decision to quit my job and go back to studying for a degree full-time was heavily influenced by my love for Taiwan. I wanted to work in Taiwan but in a country with more than 5 million degree holders, it was difficult to secure an interview with just a diploma. Without a degree, even when I got a job offer, it was near to impossible to negotiate for better pay.
I used to be an advocate of following your dreams. I was so sure that I could do anything as long as I put my heart into it. I believed unless your dreams scare you, they're not considered dreams. I didn't care if relearning Chinese was going to be tough or that chances are slim, I was bent on furthering my studies for a remote possibility of working in Taiwan after graduation.
As I worked towards relocation, I met many obstacles that eventually waned my enthusiasm. People constantly told me to be realistic. The salary in Taiwan will never be comparable to Singapore's. I won't be able to send money home or live comfortably. I have family and friends in Singapore who love me, I shouldn't leave them behind.
I ended up in the paper chase. I forgot what was I working for. I accepted that my dreams were unrealistic, and I should stay in Singapore to be a filial daughter, a good friend. I stopped speaking of my dreams to move to Taiwan.
Take Me to The Moon reminded me that dreams were never about money — it's about your happiness, and nothing makes me happier than Taiwan. It's not about leaving the people I love behind to start anew. It's about forced independence, getting out of my comfort zone, and me growing as a person. Most importantly, it is about being in a place that comforts me.
Watching Take Me to The Moon felt like I was returning to where my dreams began. I still can be that wide-eyed girl who believes dreams do come true.
「你不用完美,也值得被愛。」
I always try to time my travels with colder seasons because I hate summer with a venegence. It's a known fact that I'm terribly afraid of the heat. I even suffered heat strokes a few times in Singapore! But as with every other vain girl in Singapore, I crave for the chance to layer up. I've already long established that wearing outerwears in Singapore is practically impossible, which is why I was super excited when Uniqlo sent me their AIRism camisole.
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| Wearing: Uniqlo WOMEN AIRism Camisole in pink |
What is AIRism?
Uniqlo's AIRism is soft, quick dry, stretchable and anti-odour. AIRism apparels prevent you from perspiring and keeps your skin feeling fresh.
Took Uniqlo's AIRism camisole out for the ultimate test — a day at the Marina Bay carnival, which is known to be humid, especially when the crowd surges. To top things off, I wore a parka I previously purchased in Hong Kong when it was chilly but never got a chance to wear in Singapore.
You know how Singapore's horribly humid climate makes you sticky, sweaty, and disgusting after a while? Uniqlo's AIRism technology releases heat, and prevents odours caused by sweat. Uniqlo's AIRism innerwear are, in simple terms, wearable deodorant.
Watch this video to fully understand how AIRism works. I'm beyond amazed because Uniqlo comes up with crazy technology all the time. I relied heavily on their HEATTECH when I travelled to Japan but AIRism blows me away!
Also got Uniqlo's AIRism crew neck t-shirt for men, which can doubleup as innerwear to formal shirts. I love how comfortable and absoluteeeeely soft the material is. There's nothing on the market as smooth as AIRism's material, and this is coming from someone who owns lots of basic tees.
I'm looking forward to less sweaty days and finally wearing my outerwears in Singapore. Yay to techology making our lives better!
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| Wearing Uniqlo MEN AIRism Crew Neck T-Shirt (Short Sleeve) in grey |
AIRism Women: http://www.uniqlo.com/sg/store/women/collections/airism.html
AIRism Men: http://www.uniqlo.com/sg/store/men/collections/airism.html
Me, an adult? I never imagined myself saying this, until the day I stepped into adulthood. Whatever fantasies I had about having my shit together the moment I turned into an adult proved themselves to be futile. I spent the bulk of my first year at adulthood — trial period, I like to call it — feeling isolated and forsakened, but I soon learned the most comforting fact ever presented to me: most adults don't have their shit together.
Birthdays have always meant a huge deal to me. I cared about who texted first, who sent the longest message, who took the day off for me, who celebrated it with me. Cared, as in, past tense. As if not celebrating my 21st birthday wasn’t a big enough sin, I didn’t even want to do anything for my birthday this year. At least I wanted to club last year. This year, I told my friends let’s just catch up over dinner.
Something about growing up shifts your priority. I realised its not who wanted to spend my birthday with me, but who wants to spend their lives with me. I’m not solely talking about love — I plan to stay single for the rest of 2018 anyway — but the people in my life in general.
My birthday is quickly becoming something I dread. I hate the thought of someone spending a bulk of that day pretending that they care about my life. My birthday is just one day. 24 hours. When my birthday is over, what happens? In reality, the people who fuss over making the day perfect for me are usually not around when I had bad days during any other 364 days of the year.
Watch who’s really there instead of listening to those who claimed they will be because words mean nothing when not accompanied my actions — I guess that’s one of the many things I learned the year I turned 21. For memory’s sake, I compiled a list of 21 hardest lesson I learned during my first year as an adult. Hopefully, they will remain reminders to myself.
Something about growing up shifts your priority. I realised its not who wanted to spend my birthday with me, but who wants to spend their lives with me. I’m not solely talking about love — I plan to stay single for the rest of 2018 anyway — but the people in my life in general.
My birthday is quickly becoming something I dread. I hate the thought of someone spending a bulk of that day pretending that they care about my life. My birthday is just one day. 24 hours. When my birthday is over, what happens? In reality, the people who fuss over making the day perfect for me are usually not around when I had bad days during any other 364 days of the year.
Watch who’s really there instead of listening to those who claimed they will be because words mean nothing when not accompanied my actions — I guess that’s one of the many things I learned the year I turned 21. For memory’s sake, I compiled a list of 21 hardest lesson I learned during my first year as an adult. Hopefully, they will remain reminders to myself.
Pop songs describe December as the most beautiful time of the year — I guess it would have been, if we had white Christmases in Singapore. Instead of snow, we celebrate December with an onslaught of new year's resolutions we never intended to keep and promises that the new year will bring a brand new, improved version of yourself.
I only had one resolution for 2017: to overcome my avalanche of worries and love fearlessly.
Like a textbook millennial, I carved my new year's resolution in stone, on social media. As if declaring my new year's resolution on Instagram will motivate me to work harder for the fear of disappointing someone. Who? In reality, nobody cares enough to commit your dumbass resolutions to mind. Not even yourself.
Nine insignificant months flew by; we're more than three quarters into 2017 and I'm plunged with the sudden realisation that I'm closer to turning 30 than being a credulous 10-year-old.
The year of Trump's inauguration, North Korea's most powerful nuclear test, iPhone's 10th anniversary and Singapore's eighth presidential elections (marking the first time I should've casted a vote), I've done nothing but love less and worry more.
How contradicting, and very typical of me.
Is it a little too late to revise my decisions and restart on my new year resolution?
I only had one resolution for 2017: to overcome my avalanche of worries and love fearlessly.
Like a textbook millennial, I carved my new year's resolution in stone, on social media. As if declaring my new year's resolution on Instagram will motivate me to work harder for the fear of disappointing someone. Who? In reality, nobody cares enough to commit your dumbass resolutions to mind. Not even yourself.
Nine insignificant months flew by; we're more than three quarters into 2017 and I'm plunged with the sudden realisation that I'm closer to turning 30 than being a credulous 10-year-old.
The year of Trump's inauguration, North Korea's most powerful nuclear test, iPhone's 10th anniversary and Singapore's eighth presidential elections (marking the first time I should've casted a vote), I've done nothing but love less and worry more.
How contradicting, and very typical of me.
Is it a little too late to revise my decisions and restart on my new year resolution?





















