Reasons

Writing saves me. There's enormous release when thoughts are captured and pinned down on paper (or on screen). Writing shows them I'm in control; you crazies are not prancing around wildly scraping the lining of my membrane. Take that. For someone like me (and I know I’m the only one, right?) I need to weed them out. What is valid? What is beautiful? What is noble? What is important? Because all the rest needs to leave. All the rest might be poison, or worse, plain annoying.

The written word serves as a mirror, and just like looking at myself staring back, on some days this is comforting, on others unnerving, but always naked. Honest. Here's what that looks like. Do I like it? Whether I do or not this process becomes necessary.

Writing allows me to see, and, dare I say, enjoy the process, and consequently, it lets me enjoy my thoughts, no matter how out-of-sorts they may be, because sometimes when I don’t give up the truth emerges.

Pick. Squeeze. Taste and see. Peace.

I don’t mean there’s not a lot of agonizing in the journey. There’s plenty, a guarantee. If it sounds like I'm bravely trudging through the forest, hand on my sword, ready to slash; well, sorry, it's actually more like crawling and being eaten by bugs through the forest. Something like that. But at some point, perhaps at the end, I get there. Peace. It’s there like a promise.

And so in the end, maybe to write is to hold on. Cling desperately. Hope relentlessly. Again.

Maybe, if you’ve read this far, some of this makes sense to you. And that possibility is another reason to write.

Fun for the mind

I was reading the NYTimes just now and noticed this text at the bottom of the article page:

To find reference information about the words used in this article, double-click on any word, phrase or name. A new window will open with a dictionary definition or encyclopedia entry.

Whoa!

I immediately did. I tested a few words: some with more success (better encyclopedia entries, deeper information, etc.) than others. But still. Whoa! Try it! I find it helpful to click away for a second for clarification's sake (like, what is "Yoruba"?), to better understand the context/background of the story.

My mind got to wonder: What does this kind of accessibility mean for us? All we need is curiosity. This is truly the information age because the world is at your fingertips.

Right. How geeky am I? Pretty. So off I go!!

On a Sunday Afternoon

A few things were missing: the sandy beach outside and my man.

Otherwise, I don't know how a girl got to be so lucky on a slow, loungy afternoon:

• Old friends around the table + a yearbook from 1995 = lots of teasing = lots of laughs
  
• An extensive spread of high quality food. You name it. Foie gras? Peking duck? Oyster bar? Noodle bar? Dessert table? Pastries? Omelette? Pasta?
  
• Bottomless coffee and champagne. Kid you not
  
• A Jazz band (with an upright bass. Oh man)
• A chocolate fountain
• The best orange juice in town (right, E?)
• The non-smoking section (so rare in Jakarta!)
  
• Sudoku
• All for free (for I have generous friends)

We all need a break from being busy, or wise, or proper; from life as usual, just for a few hours. I highly recommend the above recipe.

I was 15 with these people once

Nostalgia is sweet.

We sat around for 4+ hours today, reminiscing and catching up. Our friendship formed in Singapore where we went to secondary school. As boarders, we lived in a boarding house with each other, unlike the daybugs who bussed in and out of campus every day. Life was definitely different (and better, in my opinion) as boarders. There's something about being together through that time sans the physical presence of our families. We were each other’s family before and after classes. We were each other’s strength when homesickness and heartbreak hit. We ate, played and studied together. We laughed and cried aplenty. We learned a lot from each other. We had to.

Many years have passed since we all left school, yet it felt like mere moments. We picked right up. It was safe to be completely silly, to tease each other with abandon. Some moments it was like we were 15 again:
By the way, that guy B, he’s here in Jakarta now.
Oh yeah. He was in my Econ class.
He’s your friend, right?
No, he’s not.
Come on, you liked him.
No, I didn’t.
Uh-huh, he’s your friend.
He’s not my friend, he’s E’s friend.
(E, who’s been laughing the whole time:) What? No, he’s not!

There’s safety in not having to act like the Director of Operations, or the exporter, or the entrepreneur, or someone’s son or daughter. There was no agenda. My friend said he felt as if after lunch was over we had to return to the boarding house.

Remember that prank he pulled on that kid? Remember that girl I used to have a crush on, W's bandmate? Remember the unsurpassed cinnamon buns at the cafeteria? Remember when Mr. C used to call me to his office every day? Remember roll call every Saturday evening? Remember we were sneaking in pizza to campus? Remember? Remember?

It was sweet to remember, because to be sure, we are not 15 anymore.

We have careers now. We travel for work and weddings. We’ve made various mistakes, big and small. We’ve had our spirits broken and mended. World-weary we weren’t but life surely has thrown us a few curve balls. More reports came in about other friends, how M just moved back to Kuala Lumpur to work. K is now making a name in Bollywood. A and A are getting married. L and Y are still together after all these years, sharing time between Australia and Indonesia. F is really stepping up into his role as royalty. R moved to India. MK committed suicide. And all of us wondered how MH is doing.

It was fun to travel back in time. And we look forward to creating more sweet moments, because Singapore is waiting for us to walk down its streets for more reminiscing. So stay tuned for that.

In the Lion City

My family and I just got back from a long weekend trip to Singapore. It sounds extravagant, no? But bear in mind it's a short 1.5 hr flight from Jakarta and if you have skills you get great deals on fares and hotels. So during the 4 days, we shopped, we ate, shopped some more. Since I'm not much of a shopper (and Singapore has gotten really expensive thanks to a strong currency), I delighted in the eating. Food in Singapore has always offered a wonderful amalgamation of Malay, Chinese, and Indian cuisines. Can't go wrong! Anyway, for more of the city/country/island, check out my travel blog in a few. I should have some stuff up including photos.

Walking around I started to reminisce. I lived there years ago, as a teenager, studying (and living) at an international school. I saw the no. 14 bus we would take from campus to town. Ran across the restaurant where my roommates and I, the Dorm 207/208, enjoyed our last dinner outing before we all parted ways. The bathroom at the Grand Hyatt where we would slip in to relieve ourselves and freshen up from a whole day at Orchard Rd. The movie theater's staircase where we would mill around and wait for each other. The intersection near Shaw House where I once bumped into so many of my friends in one day. And there, too, once, my friend and I met a journalist who wanted to take a picture of us (as teenage foreigners. Yep, we did get into the magazine).

These visual cues reminded me of a special time, a great learning experience, a fun yet challenging period full of beginnings. My first time living away from home, with those who aren't family. First time doing laundry on my own. First time struggling with my grades. First Tequila shots. First real conflict. First kiss.

Looking back, Singapore was the first taste of the world as I now know it. I realize how powerful my Singaporean experience was, albeit not always pleasant. During my two-year stint there my friends and I couldn’t wait for our futures outside; for when we wouldn’t have a curfew or have to study in the prep room or be pestered by our matron or deal with that annoying twat of a 3^rd year who was also, unfortunately, really pretty/smart /athletic/talented/ though surely we didn’t want to admit it. And now, here I am, many roommates, alcoholic drinks, and countless struggles later, thanking the Lord for genuinely good significant firsts.