Gratitude list: Impromptu

So I haven't been writing weekly gratitude lists for a while, not because I don't have anything to give thanks for but because there are so many things that they often turn into entire posts unto themselves. 

I'll still do the lists when I can though, like this impromptu one on a ten minute break from work. 

1) Bird farting rainbows necklace.

My friend Becky gave me this necklace over a year ago (in fact she sent it to me in the mail while I was in the UK) and I just love it.  I don't wear it very often because I'm a klutz and I want to avoid fraying the ribbons, but every time I do, I get a ton of excited compliments.  

How could you look at this and not feel happy?

2)  Crystal deodorant 

I know this is a slightly odd (and possibly awkward) choice but Amanda introduced me to this deodorant at Sasa the other day and I really love it.  For about $4, you get a stick of something that looks like a mineral rock and has no scent whatsoever.  I apply it with a little bit of water and although it does allow you to sweat, I have had absolutely no odour problems, even when I'm exercising.

The fact that it doesn't clash with my perfume and that I no longer have to contend with oddly murky cucumber or lemon scents works well for me right now.  It prickles a little on broken skin, but apart from that, I definitely plan to repurchase this.  Avoid dropping it on the floor though, if you get it, I hear it shatters into sharp little smithereens.

(I cannot attest to its pharmaceutical safety or whatever.  I'm pretty sure anything that claims to neutralise the bacteria on your skin is going to raise some alarms somewhere, but aerosols are no better, so.)

3)  My Filofax and sticky notes from Daiso

It is ridiculous how much I love my Filofax.  I think I've finally found an organiser format that really works for me and since it's stationery related, I plan to go on and on about it in a separate post at some point. 

For now, I just thought I'd share these sweet post its that I bought at Daiso earlier today.  At 400 stickies for $2, you can't go far wrong, even if the glue is not 3M worthy.  I love how the blue and pink complement the violet faux leather and I can see myself using them to decorate diary entries as well. 

And now, back to work.  There is no rest for the wicked, and I haven't been behaving.

Old school

This month has been crazy busy so far, and I've taken to waking up very early some mornings to give myself more time to do things.  When I'm not working, I try to get out as much as possible.  Sometimes I go on long walks through old parts of my estate and this morning we drove down to Changi Village for a slow breakfast. 

Singapore is so beautiful and different in the morning light when everyone is still in bed.  The sunlight sits, still on hopeful air.  Somehow, at that hour, it steals over forgotten places.  

The softness of the morning is forgiving, and I feel like I am living thirty years ago in a simpler age when opening a family coffeeshop with bottlecap clocks on the wall was enough to sustain life in the rooms above it.  Cheap sweets came vacuum packed in still cheaper plastic envelopes.  The only toys I ever yearned for were the ones that came in the weird packets of Tora chocolate that they advertised on Malay TV.

On my walks, I pass a row of shophouses.  Now, all but one are residential.  Ching San coffeeshop on Parbury Avenue is one of my favourite old places.  It's so forlorn and forgotten now that at any one time, I only see three or four patrons spread out under striped umbrellas.  And yet, that is part of its charm - that I can eat toast and kaya unmolested any weekday morning and served by a shy, smiling man who makes a strange loping run at the toaster each time I order.  There is a large Caucasian professional who comes to make his business phone calls at a folding table while he gulps his way through three kopi pengs.    

Across the cracked tiles, towards the back of the shop, I can see through the doorway and into an old concrete courtyard made cool by the hanging roots of a Bodhi tree.  It reminds me of my grandmother's old home.

Each time I go, I say a silent prayer for just enough patrons to keep the joint afloat.  I am dying to go in with my camera to try to capture the old school atmosphere.  Right now, all I have are lazy instagrams.  Let's hope that's not all that survives.

 

The Bay

Some time ago, I mentioned that one of the projects my father had planned involved taking pictures of Marina Bay at night.  He particularly wanted to capture the Gardens by the Bay domes because they are so interestingly shaped and because he has a soft spot for them.  

We headed back there last Friday night, on the off chance that the pouring rain would let up enough for photos.  We were in luck; even though the ground was slightly damp, there was nothing but a light breeze in the air.  It was even cool enough to go up onto the Benjamin Sheares bridge to take some photos from a higher vantage point.

I'm really happy with how the pictures turned out.  I like how the skyline looks deliciously clean and the way the lights shimmer on the water.  My father yelped out loud at the first shot because they were exactly what he wanted.

I don't remember the shutter speeds exactly but they were longer than half a second, aperture at around 9 or so.  I capped the ISO at 400 at one point to reduce grain and it worked out well for me.

And of course, we used a tripod.  Next project, ho!

Wise-walker TP07

I met some friends for dinner last weekend and one of them, Jonathan, was carrying a really cool messenger bag.  I'm crazy about bags and when he showed me his black, waterproof Wise-walker and the insane amount of compartments in it, I knew I had to get one to carry my camera.  

I'm not very impulsive about bags - I usually think a lot and trawl many shops before making a big purchase - but this bag really stuck with me and first chance I had, I went down to Cumulus in Wheelock Place and honed straight in on it.

Wise-walker is a series of bags made by the Japanese company Nomadic Inc.  They're not very easy to find here, nor do a lot of people use them, but fans love them because they're durable, practically laid out and hold a lot of stuff.

My new Wise-walker cost $152 (with a ten per cent discount) and even though I was coveting the black version, I had to get it in white because that's all the shop had left.  It's made of waterproof tarpaulin (although the bag itself is probably more water resistant than waterproof) and I actually asked the lady in the shop if I could try wiping stains off the display piece with my wet tissues.  Not kidding.  I'm really clumsy and I really needed to know that most stains could be cleaned.  She was very patient with me, and I could not be more pleased with my choice.

I love my big tote bags but they usually come with only two or three pockets and everything keeps getting lost in the depths.  Small things slosh around and get lost and I ultimately end up frustrated.

The TP07 appeals to the organised person in me.  I'm very messy and destructive but there are small pockets of things that I like to keep organised.  Having a perfectly organised bag or diary, for example, keeps me really energised.

The bag even comes with a map of its pockets and suggestions on how to use them!  Perfect for the anal retentive.

I love that they've provided for your cellphone, magazine, books and even games.  

As you can see, the TP-07 has thirteen compartments, right down to a net pouch that holds your waterbottle so that it's not lolling around in the bottom.  Perfect.  

Here's how I first loaded mine:

Left to right, top to bottom:  Starbucks flask from David, Narcisco Rodriguez perfume, pouch with panadol and other bits and bobs, Aesop handcream, lip balm from Ann-Marie, Vera Bradley wallet.  You know, sanitary stuff for just in case, random stickers, my office pass, my keys with Totoro, the little soot guy Wai Kit got me from Japan and a Starbucks thumb drive.  My diary and wet tissues.  My pencil case and phone.  The only thing missing is my camera which, duh, we all know where that is.

The front flap of the bag folds up to reveal the bulk of the pockets in the front of the bag, complete with a little rubber outlet for your earphones.  You can zip the whole thing up, so it feels fairly safe and compact.  The cellphone pocket is located right in front for easy access and even though I didn't put my cellphone there to start with, I do now.

I have no idea why, but organising the items and labelling them made me ridiculously happy.  In front, I have:

1) Keys.
2) Pads (everyone seems puzzled by my just in case stance until they suddenly need one).
3) Office pass.  For this alone, the bag was absolutely necessary.  We all keep standing in front of the office door and fumbling about for at least ten minutes.
4) My diary, kindle or any other small books I may be toting along.
5) Handcream, lip balm and perfume.  I use these three things very often and now I can just reach down into the bag and grab them right away.
6)  Cellphone pocket.

There's still one empty pocket in the front that I have no use for, and at any rate, keeping it empty means the front of the bag is flatter.  The cellphone pocket is padded and most of the other pockets are made of plastic mesh, so if anything spills, clean up won't be too crazy.

The flap unzips to reveal the main compartment.  This is where any other heavy stuff goes like my wallet and my camera.  You can't see the netting but my flask is nestled very comfortably there.  I like that it zips up and then folds down - double security for travelling. 

The back of the bag has four padded pockets for electronics and the like.

I've got my:

7) Phone (now in the front)
8) Wet tissues
9) Pencil case

The brilliance of this massive compartmentalisation is that I've stopped carrying useless nonsense like ticket stubs or receipts in my bag.  If it's not meant to be in any of the pockets, it goes in the trash. 

Rebecca (thanks!) took this picture of how I wear it for work with my chinos, purple shirt and grey batwing cardigan.  I think it looks fairly rugged, in a good way.

When she saw my Wise-walker, she exclaimed because she has one too!  We spent a blissful half hour talking about how rare it is and how we organise our pockets.  The next day, she brought hers and we took nerdy pictures.  (Or at least Amanda did, chanting "And one, and two, and three" in a creepy voice like an aerobics instructor, while we winced and giggled).

I think it looks nice even with a slightly more formal top and purple pants  Hers is a three-way tote, messenger and backpack in a nylon-ish material.  It might even have more pockets than mine!

And finally, I love this bag so much that I proceeded to fully satisfy the tiny neat freak in me with an homage through drawings.

Um yeah.  I know.

Oh!  And as you can see, the gathering went great!

A scarf for Shirin

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that I would put up some pictures of the first scarf that I ever finished, so here they are.  They're not the best pictures because I snapped them in a hurry before giving them away, but I hope they give a rough idea of what the scarf looks like.

I'm halfway through a couple of slightly more finicky personal projects but I really wanted to start making things for my friends and Shirin was first on the list.

The yarn is a soft, basic, grey yarn called Shiver from Moda Vera, which is Spotlight's resident yarn maker and I only needed two balls to make a 60 inch long scarf.

Each time I make a new scarf, I go for something slightly different to make it a little more challenging.  I'm not particularly daring, so I figure if I alter one variable each time, I'll slowly but surely get to making extremely complex things.

Prior to this yarn, I had only knitted with very neat five mm stock so it took a little while to get used to the 10mm needles (pictured with a pen for scale).  Twice as big, they can feel clumsy in the hands and the entire product becomes heavier.  The yarn itself is distractingly furry and splits easily if you're not paying attention.

Once I acclimatised though, the whole thing was a breeze.  I blazed through most of it while finishing the first season of Bunheads (Bailey Buntain ftw!).  Shirin likes things simple, so I kept them basic and chunky with your everyday two-by-two rib stitch.

Believe it or not, I weaved in the tails with a paperclip that I bent to my purpose.  Don't try this at home (SEE below). 

Because things like this amuse me, I thought I would put in a short list of the lessons that I learn with each scarf.  If anyone out there is a beginner knitter too (Amanda, my minion!), who knows, these tips might be some help!

Things Shirin's scarf taught me:

1)  With bigger needles and yarn, it's important to knit a bit more loosely so that the yarn transfers easily over the needles.

2)  Happily, it's also much easier to knit close to the needle tip because there's less danger of the wool just shooting off the slope and unravelling.

3)  Bamboo needles offer more traction, but for a very wispy yarn, can catch annoyingly.

4)  The looser and fluffier the yarn, the more important it is to pay attention so that it does not split.

5)  It is possible to perform a ribbed cast off.  (The very fact that I was unaware of this one is testament to what a n00b I am.)

6)  Do not, I repeat, do NOT weave in the ends with a bent paperclip.  Any yarn that has even a little hair coming off it will catch disgracefully as you pull the paperclip through and you risk tearing out chunks or even breaking the strand altogether.  I ran out and bought a yarn needle right after I finished.  

I've really grown to love knitting - the repetition is incredibly therapeutic and yet when I'm counting and troubleshooting, it keeps my mind working furiously.  I may never need to make anything more complex than long rectangles, but it's immensely satistfying.

I'm already halfway through the next scarf!  I can't wait to finish it.

#nofilter

This is it - my worst exercise bruise so far, complete with a nasty bit of swelling.

I'll be honest, I don't enjoy the pain one bit.  I don't look forward to it, and sometimes when I have to do something that I know is going to smart, I have to set my teeth and talk myself into it.  I remind myself of all the women around me, doing far more difficult things with aplomb, and I have to gird my loins.

But realising that my body can now do something it couldn't accomplish the week before or, as a matter of fact, ever?  That feeling, I live for.  

A life alone

When I first started this blog, I thought it would be a lot of venting and crying and moaning about singlehood.  Instead, while I talk about it now and then, there are also other things I want to share like stories or photos with friends or of places I've been, and I think it's because in some ways, I have been used to the idea of being "single" for a long time already.

It's been long enough after the breakup now that I have mixed feelings.  Sometimes I miss what I thought we had and what I thought it was going to be.  Other times though, I really appreciate my alone time.  More than anything, I've been trying to imagine how all this would translate to living alone in the long term, a thought that used to scare me.  

When I first got dumped, some kindly friends told me that I had to get used to the idea of being by myself, that I had to be comfortable with the person that I was in order to move on.  "Eating alone isn't so bad," one said sympathetically.  The thing is though, they didn't get my despair.  I've long been cool with all those things. 

If you enjoy writing at all, a part of you is naturally introverted.  And for the last two years, being in long distance relationships meant that I spend a great deal of time alone anyway.  When I was dating people who lived continents away, we would sometimes only have a few minutes of contact a day and it never bothered me as long as I felt our hearts were true.  

I have never come home in the quiet of the night and felt empty or lacking because of my solitude.  After all, I'm the girl who loves eating alone in restaurants, who leaves for work an hour early to spend time people watching in a cafe.  I've always gone to movies or concerts alone, travelled solo and I frequently go wandering by myself. 

The thing is, I've always enjoyed doing these things.  I like being in my head and I've never felt the need for a partner or for extra attention.  I've never been one of those people who feels awkward with or by myself.  

The pinch I was feeling, I realised, stemmed from a greater, much further away fear.  

I've always worried about dying unloved.   

My real desire for a special someone lies in the hope that someone will love me enough to want to undertake special adventures with me so that at the end of the day, when it is time to lay down my things, I can say that in soul, in spirit, I had a partner-in-crime.  

Maybe it is vanity.  Maybe it is ego.  Maybe I want this because I don't believe in the afterlife and so I want to grab all that I can in this one. 

Whatever it is, as much as I enjoy doing things by myself and want to continue doing so, I also want to be with someone so that we can be each other's rock when all other life has faded, when my mother is long gone, when my brothers have grown up and have their own priorities.  

At least, that's what I thought until most recently.  Now that some time has passed and I've had a chance to get some perspective, I've been asking myself if an entire life alone would really be so galling.  

Look at the bigger picture: if one enjoys spending days on one's own, then months, why not years?  Ultimately, what is the worst that could happen?  

I can still achieve all my dreams of owning my own house, travelling and learning lots of things.  No matter what I do, my parents and my family will still love me.  And I know I won't have a problem with time, or peace or quiet. 

Even my one big fear, that I will lie dead in an apartment for weeks, slowly being devoured by my dogs (or cats) has become almost comical with the realisation that while it is horrible, I won't be around to be horrified in hindsight.  

Suddenly, things don't look so bad.  I'm starting to think that I can imagine a life of solitude, not with defeat but with great optimism.  I'm even looking at the idea of moving away for a bit because of the tranquility that it promises.  

Long story short, I'm finally reaching that point that all broken-hearted people yearn to reach one day.  If I meet someone suitable, great.  Sound the trumpets!  I'm sure it'll be every bit as fulfilling as I imagine it to be.

But if I don't, cool.  I think I can totes handle it.  I'll be spending most of my time as I do now anyway, and that's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.  

In the meantime, I'll just keep all my pets well fed.