Tag Archives: life

A FISHBOWL & A HEAVY HEART

3 things that I’m thankful for:
A shoebox of my own in just under a week
An inspiring church that’s just a 10-minute walk away
A job interview

Yes, I took a leap of faith and upped and came to New Zealand, just as I’ve said that I probably would in my previous post. I’ve loved every moment of it since my arrival – the temperature (a steady 14 – 18 degrees), the sights and sounds, and just the convenience of moving about. Oh, and the public library!

But the real struggle is when you’re here on a mission, and not just for a vacation – the game changes. It’s been 17 days in to my little adventure but I am still trying to find that spot of calm, that peacefulness of knowing that ‘everything will be OK’. I knew it would be tough to attempt settling into a foreign environment, but I didn’t have a gauge on the extent of it until I embarked on a job hunt for a full-time position. It’s been tough. Sending out more than 10 applications only to hear back from just a couple sure leaves a dent in your self-confidence. But on the flip side, it has also reminded me of how blessed I’ve been for all these years. Back in Malaysia, I had jobs that were waiting for me. While I was in the midst of my college degree, I was referred to a small creative consultancy that did amazing works for one of the world’s largest shopping malls. I interned with them and eventually became a full-time hire. I worked there for seven years, and when I resigned, I immediately had something else to take on. I did not actually have to go through a job hunt.

So here I am now, actually experiencing what would be my first job hunt in 29 years of my life.

While the calm is taking a while to set in, I have made conscious effort to try things I otherwise would never even think of – applying for an assistant store manager role with kikki.K, for instance. Haha! Yes! I am very aware that I do not have the experience for that role, but what the heck, right? It could only go two ways – a. they won’t hire me, or b. they’d love my enthusiasm and train me for it. (ps: I’ll give an update to this if they reply me.) Also, I’m practising letting go of things and events that I really just have no control over – whatever happens after I hit the ‘Submit’ button on every application I send out. I’m almost a control freak, if not one already. I don’t like the feeling of not being in control of things be it my finances, schedules, or my future. And this leap to Hobbit Land has definitely stretched me in a lot of somewhat uncomfortable ways. But, I try.

I try to look on the bright side. I feel very grateful for everything I’ve achieved so far and know that other people have to struggle up much bigger hills than my own. But sometimes, gratitude and optimism can only get you so far. Gratitude and optimism can’t satisfy lingering doubts, or tell you what it all adds up to – or if it is meant to add up to anything at all. They don’t soothe the voice that keeps prodding and asking, “What are you doing? Do you think any of it really matters?

The voice wants answers, but I haven’t got any. I just keep going, ploughing ahead, and hoping to God I can pay my bills, while I watch the days and weeks flit past. These 17 days have sometimes felt like an exercise in contortion. They have sometimes felt like I have twisted and wrapped myself into strange shapes to continue on. Sometimes I have felt like I have become someone else entirely: the kind of person who doesn’t think about anything other than the achievement of goals, not their meaning. The kind of person who is committed and confident and sure. The kind of person who believes, intrinsically, in what they are doing. The kind of person who is not afraid.

When you go to bed after hours of being someone else, your head feels as full as a fishbowl and your shoulders feel as heavy as your heart. Instead of relaxing, you find yourself trying to reconcile the distance between who you think you are and who you need to become to get by. I have tried letting go. I have tried resigning every conceit I have about myself and just accepting that I need to become someone else for good. But every time I have tried to let go, I’ve found some small part of myself clinging determinedly to the remaining strands of who I imagine I am, or who I imagine I should be.

So I carry on and hope that, in the end, it all works out.

17 days in to this adventure have definitely done a very good job of pushing me out of my comfort zone, right into something I knew very little of. I’ve got a loooooong way ahead of me, and a lot of praying (and crying. Haha!) to do, so wish me luck and keep me in your prayers.

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LIFE, AS IT IS.

The hiatus has been a long one but I’m glad to be back, with the greater hope that I’d be able to keep up with the thoughts in my head, and translate them into posts right here.

THE LEAP OF FAITH
The past two months have been rough on me, mentally. It was a mashup of exhaustion and exhilaration, both at once, and you can only imagine how draining that would have possibly been.

Plans to go abroad are in the works, and with the year coming to an end too quickly, it has almost if not already forced me to fast forward a lot of my other plans on hand. There’s that fear of making it, or not making it, and the dealing with it afterwards, whichever the outcome may be.

I think what really affects me here, is the idea that I don’t seem to have much time left to do a lot of things I initially set out for myself. Or more possibly, having to postpone my next dive trip. Haha. Yes, I hate when that happens. But on a serious note, it does feel like a severe case of “too much to do, too little time”. This is nonetheless a step closer to my dream, to say the least. So it’s alright, perhaps.

The collating of my portfolio has also been a rather arduous one, if I may add. I have had to painstakingly sieve and sample what felt like a million portfolio hosting sites only to return to good ol’ WordPress and Behance. And then there’s the LinkedIn profile that needed dusting, and lots of refining. Did I mention that I suck at beefing up a personal profile? Lol. I could so do someone else’s but mine.

I’ll be visiting that place abroad in November, for the first time. It’s going to be my chance to fall in love with that new ground, that unfamiliar space, with absolutely no strings attached. It was a fairly spontaneous decision to book that flight out, but I’m glad I did it. It’s going to be a really good holiday. I can feel it already.

I’ve had big dreams before, but none thus far that have required such attention to the life changing details, up until now. “If your dreams don’t scare you, they’re not big enough,” so I read somewhere.

At this rate, yup! It’s safe to say that my dream is officially big enough.

THE BOOK JOB
I am a storyteller, a blogger, and a writer. What I’m definitely not, is a copywriter.

The difference, you ask? I don’t like writing to sell. I enjoy writing in hopes of promoting something that I believe in.

Part of the worry that I had about going abroad was simply, not knowing what I should sell myself as, and what sort of jobs I would/could/should land. Should I be a writer, or a photo stylist? How about an editor? Oh, what about a graphic designer? It always felt like I was half-baked in every way despite the endorsements I’ve received. It felt like I was a jack-of-all-trades, and a master of none. It was tougher than I had thought it to be. It became a personal battle – a constant one that made me question if I was ever good enough to make the career cut out there.

It was during this time that someone reminded me of the other side to it. Much like how David saw Goliath, the giant – too big to miss, I had ample skills under my belt to at least land one job out of all the possible writing/styling/designing vacancies out there. I found myself breathing a little easier after that, really.

About three weeks ago, I was briefly in touch with a publishing house – more specifically, a publishing division of the renowned Penguin Books. We spoke about my manuscript (which still is a work in progress and a far cry from completion), about its illustrations, colours, paginations, cover finishing of choice, and we even got to the part about marketing and royalties!

The whole conversation was amazing, and I loved how alive the idea was that I would be able to publish a book of my own, eventually. It did come with a relatively huge (but affordable) price tag, but I’m just really glad that I had the opportunity to be in touch with the young lady on the other line, and to discuss all the possibilities that we could put together, especially under such a prestigious publishing label that I grew up with reading its titles.

It’s not everyday that I get these kicks that make me feel like I can take on the world, with words. And it’s also things like this that reminds me that my writing carries weight, if I allow it to. It pushes me out of a zone of disbelief that I have inevitably created for myself along the way, and helps me realize that there are a lot of things that could be well within my reach, if I would only stretch a little further and grasp for a little more than what I think I’m comfortable with.

It’s one of those life-changing experiences, you know? The kind that comes right when you need it, and right where you need it.

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AN EMPTY VESSEL

I’ve been meaning to write this earlier but I have to be honest, I struggled — not due to matters of confidentiality, but of anger, frustration, a truckload of hate, and a loss for words.

I spoke of my decision to resign and join a different company altogether at my work performance review just two week ago, and was empathetically advised by both my superiors that I would have to prepare myself for all sorts of office politics imaginable that I would face in a huge corporation as the one I was going to, and that it will be nothing like my current workplace — petite and sans the politics.

This April will officially mark my seven years of service right here. I have been witness to many that have come and gone, and more than that have asked what kept me for seven years. For those who have read my earlier posts — this and this, you might have inevitably deduced that my work place is a hellhole. No, it isn’t, really. Like all other legit, registered companies, we serve a purpose. And for six years of my life, I have set out with our team to realise that purpose. In fact, most of us give our 250% to meet the unwritten expectations of our superiors. But for the last leg of it, I started to realise that loving what I did didn’t necessarily and automatically mean that it would make me happy.

I loved what I was doing, but by the end of my sixth year, the good people that contributed to it have mostly, if not all, left and moved on to greater things. I felt like I was in a rut. My ex-colleagues were out there building their lives with bricks that were less decorated, less glamorous, less jet setting, and less luxurious, but they were all nonetheless so much happier. It struck me that that was the sense of greatness I was searching for within the things that I have been doing all these years but never found. It made me re-evaluate my life only to realise the sad reality that in place of greatness, I was hoarding gossips, lies, self-centredness, pride, and a love for the things that never ever once mattered to me. It broke me when I realised these things defined me more than I’d wish to admit.

So in 2014, I set out to weed my life of things that didn’t add to it — this career included.

You see Superior 1, you’ve been a generous boss, but it stops there. What I’ve been trying to make you understand is that the many who work for you are not hard up for your generosity. All the extras are well, extras. Instead, buck up. Be a good paymaster. Don’t deny them what they are truly worth, and don’t delay your payments. Everyone’s got their bills to pay, and mouths to be fed, and whether it concerns you to say the least, they deserve the wage they’ve put in the work for.

Over the course of the seven years that I’ve toiled for you and your company, I can safely say that you don’t know what it truly means to appreciate another human being. You’ve always spoken highly of yourself — of your perfect sense of ‘friend-conscience’, your travels that have taken you to so many places and seen so many cultures, your intellectual affluence, your selflessness for animals and the helpless people around, your certifications, acknowledgments, titles and rewards garnered from your studies and courses, and of the many consulting job opportunities you were offered by “tons of clients who desperately need you to rescue their dying publications.” You are undeniably good at what you do. But if I may say, even with all that travelling, all that certifications and titles that are supposed to set the educated apart from the less discerning ones, you are by far, the most uneducated person I have known. You lack everything that makes a human, human — conscience. You have none, and yet you sleep well at night. I am genuinely flabbergasted.

I remember my early days working with you. When a client cancelled her subscription to our design services, she spoke to me separately and requested that I continued to write for her simply because she liked what I did for her. Out of respect and courtesy, I spoke to you about it and you told me to go ahead with it because you always want to allow your staff the opportunity to grow. Two days after, you sat me down and told me to be cautious of this client simply because you heard from the grapevine that she had mentioned to some of your mutual friends that I had begged for the writing job she actually offered me. I slept on it for over a week, and I soon realised it all didn’t make much sense. I was merely a copywriter to her. In fact, what I was writing for her didn’t and wouldn’t actually incredibly make or break her business in any way. What I did for her was just a means of perfecting what was already in place. I thought to myself that she had nothing to gain by having me as her copywriter — aside from perfect grammar and a spell check. But you had everything to gain if I did eventually reject the job and look up to you as my ‘saviour’.

That was when I first made up my mind to question to death everything that you would tell me, which proved itself as one of my life’s most valuable decision.

My heart goes out to one of our ex-designers. In my opinion, she was the bravest amongst us all. She decided early on that she wanted out, and went on ahead of us to experience her exit; one that she never knew would cripple her for a good two months, and scar her for life. You see Superior 1, none of us were prepared for what ensued along with her exit. And if there were anyone who was the least prepared, that would have been her. We all knew she looked up to you, to your success and your stature. She wanted to do good works because your approval of it would make her feel good about her talents — all of which are good things. But instead of building her and egging her on, you tore her down and stripped her of every bit of dignity she had when she spoke of resigning. Instead of wishing her well with her future endeavours, you chose to speak ill of her and word quickly spread like a plague of death. Instead of celebrating her ambitiousness, you chose to ostracize and pick on her for actually making a decision that was beneficial to her self-growth. Instead of making her believe that her respect for you was worth it, you chose to be the ugliest, most dishonourable figure of what a superior, let alone a human, could ever be. I know you don’t need our respect in any way, but as a person of such a high stature, it baffles me as to why you’d stoop so low just to make a person’s life a living hell.

Months, and even years after her leaving, you still had a way to bring her name up in conversations, to maim whatever was left of her reputation that wasn’t already destroyed. She had a passion for fashion and publications, but you made sure she had nowhere to go by pulling all your strings and telling them the nastiest, most untrue stories about her so that they wouldn’t hire her. All these made you feel good. It fed your ego. It validated the lies you made about her. It felt like the right thing to do, for you.

And through it all, it wasn’t as if I was without fault. I was there the entire time all of these happened. I watched as she burnt down, and you rose to be very pleased and contented with the path of emotional devastation you set her on. I, just like everyone else, knew better that there was nothing that could be done to make things better, so I turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to stay out of things. Guilty — and all of these followed me for the next few years, right up until when I decided to embark on a search for something greater, a year ago.

I wasn’t pinched for this new job I would soon go to, as you and Superior 2 think is the case. If you would take time to read this, you would at least realise that I was not enjoying my work as much in May of 2014. In actual fact, the dissatisfaction dates back even earlier, just sans the written documentation of it until the month of May. I wasn’t particularly looking to job hop, but I was very open to that possibility. However, what I was keener for was to take on bigger, better, and more portfolio-worthy jobs that didn’t just seem like stuff you didn’t want to pay someone else to do. But those things never happened. Instead, I had an ad-selling quota to fulfil. When your designers underperformed and I went the extra mile to stand in the gap with whatever design skills I had, you said I was wasting my time. You didn’t even give me the opportunity to explore this part of the job just because you thought this wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing. Did you know that seven years into the job have robbed me of what I initially loved about it — styling, coordinating and executing photoshoots? You made me a glamorous Project Editor by profession, but I could never answer when someone asked what was it really that I did for a living.

I write copy, proofread the exact shit I write, check designs, sell ads, prepare invoices, chase clients for paymentI guess?

In place of shoots, I got the accounts to worry about it. I mean, what Project Editor does billings and chase payments?

But it’s been seven years I’ve toiled and laboured for you and this company, and I’ve never made a peep about these ridiculous tasks. But on January 30 2015, you didn’t just give me one, but too many reasons in fact, to never see you in the same light ever again. When I witnessed the extent of wickedness you had inside you when our ex-designer left, I couldn’t say I didn’t already have an idea of what would hit me when I decide to leave. But I was naïve enough to think it would be different because I played all my cards of employee loyalty while I worked for you, and I thought it was enough. I couldn’t be more wrong. As I write this, I am but barely surviving all the hostility and nasty chatter that have overtaken me, thanks to you (and the existence of Whatsapp chat rooms, unfortunately). As I write this, I am in that phase of fighting against every thing you are, and everything that you have intentionally set in my path to break me as I serve my two months of notice. As I write this, I find myself desperately coveting the prayers of people I never thought I would need prayer from. But above all, as I write this, I realise you are everything that I do not want to ever become.

Superior 1, this is you — vile, malicious, intemperate, proud, deceitful, hypocritical, short sighted, and unjust. And sometimes, people can see how bad you try to be like Superior 2, who has earned for herself honest respect and regard, but try as you may, you will never be like her. Don’t crave the kind of employer-employee relationship that Superior 2 keeps even after her employees have left, because you don’t deserve them, and you don’t know how to appreciate them anyway. The only thing that you have superseded Superior 2 at is being a foul blabbermouth.

I remember the time you asked me to tell you three things you could work on to be a better boss. I know, sounds almost unbelievable that a person like you would ask me this, right? Anyway, I recall telling you that you should channel your generosity to those who deserve it. I told you that you also needed to correct those who need correction, and learn to give praise where it is due too. That was the only one I seem to care to remember, but my point is, it’s so typical of you to ask for an opinion but never actually taking time to sleep on it. As a person who is so short sighted to refuse correction, how do you even bring yourself to think yourself fit as a role model to your team?

I can say without a doubt that you are neither a leader, nor a mentor. You are an empty vessel.

Someone asked me if I ever feared getting into trouble should you chance upon my blog. I think I do. I think that fear is inevitable, but secretly, I kind of hope you’d actually come to reading this. You’d probably serve me a lawyer’s letter like you did this other ex-designer of ours, and I’ll probably take it down. We all know the drill.

You are only as good as your team, Superior 1. To you, everyone is dispensable. And unfortunately for me, it took me seven years — too long, in fact — to realise that you are just as dispensable. I have lost all respect for you as a person. Frankly, I am just short of wishing the worst things to befall you, only because that would be me, stooping to your unscrupulous ways. Instead, I thank you for showing me the person that I don’t want to become. Thank you for being the asshole that I never knew existed, and reminding me never to judge a book by its cover. Thank you for putting me through all this drama. I choose to think you are doing me a favour and toughening me up for the office politics I was told of to exist only in larger corporations like the one I’m off to. It’s really funny how you’d think your company is without politics when you are the only reason it actually exists though.

If there were one thing you were right about when we spoke at my review, it would be that the new corporation I’d soon be part of would be nothing like my current workplace.

Thank God.

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HUMP AHEAD

HUMP AHEAD

I haven’t written in a long while. Heck, I haven’t even Instagram-ed anything in a really long while, hence the stark absence of my Instant Months posts – my last being September.

2014 is about to come to an end, and to be honest, all I could think of was how bad it has been. I had a lot to deal with, from work related matters, to a flurry of funerals and hospitalisations that required my (almost) immediate attention, inevitably forcing me into a place of spreading myself thin, in efforts to meet my deadlines/catch up with friends/spend time with my family/work my church duties/make time for myself and so much more.

But I’ve grown. It’s been a tough year but I’ve grown, and I choose to carry that with me from the rough and turbulent everything else the year chucked my way.

Every new year, there are two seasons that garner big resolutions – the beginning of it, and six months into it. Yup, and I used to be (or might still be) a sucker for all that too. Come 2015, there are just three things I’d like to make happen.

1. Dive
2. Get fit.
3. Be happy.

It’s not much, but it’s really quite a lot when I think about it. You know what I mean?

This shot was taken on my recent trip to Singapore. This bunch of workers were putting up, or painting down, whichever, a fresh new Hump Ahead sign. It was a work of art, if you actually saw how they did it. Them – chalk, rulers and paint in hand, it was like watching someone work up a typography poster, large scale, freehand. Love.

And I just thought I’d immortalise their work that would very soon be weathered down by rain and shine, tyre marks and soiled footprints.

This is a reminder, that there will be hump(s) ahead, whether you are ready for them, whether you approve of them or not. All you got to do is to hit the road, enjoy the ride, and make the most out of wherever you are headed for. 2015 will be okay, if not better than 2014.

We’ll all be okay.(: So to everyone out there, Merry Christmas and have a happy, happy New Year! Whatever your resolutions are, just remember to live every moment, good or bad/happy or sad. xx

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QUASIMODO

Oh God. Don’t let me die a Quasimodo.

I’ve been struggling with really bad posture for about half of my life. To be honest, I don’t remember actually being that way when I was much younger. I recall my sister struggling with her posture (and how we suggested to affix a cross-like structure to her back), but exactly when did I start showing signs of becoming a Quasimodo, I absolutely have no recollection whatsoever.

Aside from the fact that I need so badly to strengthen my back muscles to heave on scuba dive tanks without falling face first, I have also looked to it as a routine to correct my posture. I even got a brace. Actually, two to be precise. And trust me, it’s not the most comfortable piece of posture support you’d ever want to be in. But unfortunately, I am only doing myself a favour so yeaaaaa…no pain, no gain. Okay. Ugh.

It really makes a difference, when you (when I) don’t hunch – your ass is perkier, your boobs look firmer, your frame is stronger, your belly gets sucked in. Well, kinda. And everything else just falls into place. Aaaaaah. How I wished this wasn’t my struggle.

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INSTANT: AUGUST

instant august

They say that being busy is a good thing. That means that there’s work to be done, because having work means getting paid. Yeaaaaa, I suppose you could see it that way. I’ve been busy. So busy my writing (and reading) has taken a MAJOR backseat.

It’s now almost the end of September, and I’m only running an update on August. Lol So.over.due.

Well, August has been a really good month. So much happened for me just within that month. For one, I got my dive certification. Then there was the awesome trip to Singapore to hang with the cousins. And then my fitness training took off and my ass is slowly coming back in shape, and my muscles, slightly more visible (I lost 12kgs beginning this year, and with that, my ass too. If you’re wondering. Lol) Then there was London, and Rome, spilling into September.

Also, I’m incredibly glad that my Nook is happening for me. FINALLY. I’ve been having major problems purchasing books for my Nook out of the States. It sucked real bad, and I was so close to ditching it, but then Kobo books happened.(:

So yes, dearest Kobo books. If you are reading this… THANK. YOU. SO. MUCH. You saved me my last strand of sanity, from wanting to hammer the daylights out of my Nook.

August in a word – AMAZEBALLS. And p.s., September has been pretty neat too. So I’m really, really grateful for every single thing.

Instant Months is a compilation of my month in Instagram shots. Check out the rest of my months here, or follow me on Instagram.

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TRAVELOGUE: LONDON

london

{From top centre: Monocle Cafe on Chiltern Street/Chiltern Street/Liberty/Manchester Street/Croque Madame at Wolseley’s/Cobbled streets/Smoked salmon and poached eggs on breakfast muffins at Chiltern Firehouse/Breakfast at Monocle Cafe/London Bridge/Food kitchen at Chiltern Fire Station/My reservation at the Booking Office, St. Pancras/Park by Warwick Avenue/A classic electric cinema/Cute packaging: Feel good, recycle.(:/Portobello Rd. market/St. Paul’s cathedral/Doggie soaking up the sun!/Oysters at Colbert’s/Strolling down Little Venice/FCUK’s brilliant advertising/Fish and chips at Golden Union Fish Bar’s/Street stroll}

So, this was my week in London. I mentioned in my previous post that I was both very much and not very much looking forward to it, and here’s why.

Very much because…
It’s London. It’s 13 long hours of anticipation to lots of sightseeing, and coffee at cosy cafes. And I was all set to fly Business Class too. So who wouldn’t be? And not forgetting the chilly winds that let me take out my knitwear, pea coats and wooly things for an appropriate season.(:

And not very much because…
London was a work trip. And I had in mind to keep it just that way, until my boss insisted that I take a train, or a flight from there and go somewhere. I wouldn’t have to think twice if I was earning as much as she was, frankly. But alas, I broke my piggybank and traveled to Rome from there anyway. No regrets, but it could have been easier for me if I had the freedom to visit Rome on a very intentional, totally saved-up-my-whole-life-for reason. You know what I mean.

Anyway, Rome’s up next. Stay tuned!

{photos by Jolene Tan}


p.s. Please check their respective sites for up-to-date business hours as they may vary daily.

Chiltern Firehouse
1 Chiltern St, Marylebone, London W1U 7PA, United Kingdom
Business hours: 6pm – 12am
+44 20 7073 7676

Colbert
50-52 Sloane Square, London SW1W 8AX, United Kingdom
Business hours: 8am – 11pm
+44 20 7730 2804

Golden Union Fish Bar
38 Poland Street, Soho, London W1F 7LY, United Kingdom
Business hours: 11.30am – 10pm
+44 20 7434 1933

Monocle Cafe
18 Chiltern St, London W1U 7QA, United Kingdom
Business hours: 7am – 7pm
+44 20 7135 2040

Portobello Road Market
Portobello Rd, London W10 5TE, United Kingdom
Business hours: 8am – 7pm
+44 20 7727 7684

The Booking Office Bar @ St Pancras
Euston Rd, London, United Kingdom
Business hours: 6.30am – 10pm
+44 20 7841 3566

The Wolseley
160 Piccadilly, London W1J 9EB, United Kingdom
Business hours: 7am – 12am
+44 20 7499 6996

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INSTANT: JULY

instant july

July, July.

I thank God for this beautiful month, really. It was a crazy busy one with many, many shoots and the inevitable preparation works that come with it, my dive lessons, rock climbing sessions, burger-noming dinner date – all in amazing company, and a very, very good long weekend in a quiet glass box hideout followed by a whacked out Singapore trip with the cousins.

To a good month ahead and more great accomplishments before yet another month goes by…CHEERS!:D Have a great August everybody! xx

Instant Months is a compilation of my month in Instagram shots. Check out the rest of my months here, or follow me on Instagram.

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DIVE BABY DIVE!

dive

Two weekends ago, four friends and I attended our dive lessons, sat for our exams and completed our confined water dive modules – all within two days. And now, we are just eagerly waiting to complete our open water dives, and to eventually be licensed to dive!

Breathing underwater definitely took (me) some getting used to, since it’s only natural to hold your breath when your face hit the water. And even crazier, is having to clear your mask underwater and/or removing your mask and putting it back on underwater (this is just so you’ll know what to do if you swim too close and your dive buddy accidentally kicks you in the face. Lol)!

So, counting down to August 2 for our open water dives in Tioman! One more item to check off my bucket list.(:

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INSTANT: JUNE

instant june

June, june, june.

A month that went by, perhaps somewhat too quickly, pushing me two months closer to my UK trip that I am both very much and not very much looking forward to. Hah! I’ll fill you in on this one soon.

But anyway, I hope you lovelies have had a great June. And in July, let’s accomplish bigger, better things!

xx

Instant Months is a compilation of my month in Instagram shots. Check out the rest of my months here, or follow me on Instagram.

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