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.

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 weeks 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 payment…I 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.

LESSONS FROM WHEN I QUIT

I quit my job of seven years, and if anyone thought that seven years of service deserves a good exit, to say the least – oh boy, are we wrong.

As with every other staff that quit this company, it’s always ugly. And my seven years isn’t spared of the ugly exchange of texts, gossip, and hostility either, unfortunately. I am beyond disappointed that I really couldn’t care less now.

I am still serving my two months of notice as I write. In fact, it’s only the beginning. I am eagerly counting down to the evening of April 1 – when freedom is finally mine. Every night, I go home feeling like I just want to climb into bed, die there and not have to face another day in my office. I’m not even exaggerating. I hate this place already.

I’ve never felt so vulnerable before, and I’ve never prayed so hard before. I remember I once prayed that God wouldn’t humble me by taking away my job, but now, all I hear myself saying is ‘God shield me. Give me patience, and just shut out every talk around me. I don’t want to know about it, I don’t want to care. Just two months and I’m out. Please make this as easy for me, God.’

Seven lessons I’ve since learnt…

1. ALWAYS BE PREPARED BUT ALSO KNOW THAT YOU CAN NEVER BE TOO PREPARED I was, because I’ve seen how my superior would just tell her staff to pack and leave the very next day, so I had my exit plan ready. But then there’s always the loophole of not ever being able to be completely prepared – my superior sprung a surprise and requested that I get all my jobs sorted by month end, and she’s ready to release me a month earlier. Sounds legit. The catch? She wants my new company to pay her for the one month that she’s releasing me early. Please, don’t even try to make sense of this.

2. PEOPLE WILL TALK ABOUT YOU Especially those who constantly talk about every other person. I’ve always understood this, but I always seemed to find the stupidity in me to think it would be different for myself. Why, you ask? I don’t know. Maybe because I always give people the benefit of doubt that they’ll react different, be better, or whatever. Okay, I’m naïve. Enough said.

3. EVERYONE IS DISPENSABLE This perhaps, rings truer for china-man companies – who are more often than not, known to be crude, unscrupulous, incredibly calculative, and narrow-minded. Even they have told you many times that you are indispensable, never for a second believe it. To them, regardless of how great a worker you’ve been, they’ll never truly appreciate you as a person. It’s sad but they don’t understand and respect the need for their staff to grow, individually and as a whole with the company. They look at you much like every other piece of equipment in the office. If you call it quits – the sooner they can replace you, the better. Their motto: Keep working, or get out.

4. PEOPLE WHO MIND DON’T MATTER, THOSE WHO MATTER DON’T MIND It’s a cliché saying but this is the real shit that I’ve been having to remind myself of – that these people who add to all the chatter really don’t matter, and those who’ve got my back are with me all the way. Many have been concern of my resignation and its reason but I’ve learn to just shrug the questions off even when I’m so tempted to yell ‘BECAUSE THE WORK CULTURE SUCKS!’, simply because it’s hard to really trust the people around you. Haha. The walls have ears, you know.

5. DON’T DOUBT YOURSELF This, in my opinion, is so easy to speak of but not do, especially when you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s natural that we’d prefer to retreat and keep away from all contact whenever possible. But I ask myself why? Why should I retreat and make it seem like I am guilty of something? Much like a self-fulfilling prophecy, doubting yourself and retreating wills more talk, stares and attention to yourself. So I’ve learn to not give a shit, because the more unfazed I am despite everything that’s happening, the lesser of an entertainment I’d be to them.

6. BE KIND Just because they aren’t to you doesn’t mean that you should throw it right back at them. Instead, see where they are coming from and accept that not everyone is built to handle a crisis the same way. The meaner they are to you, the kinder you should be to them. It’s not even about making amends with them, it’s about learning to be a bigger, better person and rise above the very shitty position you are in. After all, they really only want to see you go down, so don’t allow it. Swim. Float. Do whatever you need to, but be kind.

7. PEOPLE REMEMBER YOU BY THE WAY YOU LEAVE It’s not entirely true when they say people remember you by the way you live. When it comes to quitting a job, people really just remember you by the way you leave. The way you make your exit, the way you bid farewell, will be the only thing they’ll ever recall when they speak about you. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles. So whatever it is, leave on a good note. Don’t burn bridges (as much as I would’ve wanted to), and don’t bitch about work or anyone right before you leave. Word gets around, and it will never be pretty. So though the ugly end is almost always inevitable, just do whatever you can to try to minimise all the drama. This is when you learn to bite your tongue, and is also when you truly learn what it means to be humble by keeping your mouth shut even when the accusations come flying at you like fiery arrows.

HATE IS A STRONG WORD

I remember what it felt like to lose my mojo, and I definitely remember what being at the peak of my performance felt like. But the state I was in for the past two months felt like a whole new, unfamiliar level of mojo-losing-incredibly-hardpressed-and-unmotivated state of mind.

I’ve been where I am for a good seven years now. It first started as a part-time job, which continued as a college internship, and then a full-time hire offer. Seven years is no child’s play, and it always is a mix of job perks, company loyalty and passion for the job that people would often ‘suggest’ as reasons to my staying, for a good seven years.

Perhaps I have said this in one post or another of mine – I enjoy what I do, but I wouldn’t go as far as to say I love it. Well, at least not anymore.

In the recent years, I have mentioned of moving on, or away, from this place. But it never really stuck. It felt more like a rant, a rage, a temporary moment of anger and bad decisions lumped in one. About a couple of weeks back, I was offered a job as a copywriter – and to be frank, it’s not a job I’m entirely keen on, but it felt more like something I needed than something I should even consider wanting or not. It was then that I realised I really just want out.

The past two months were a nasty clash of deadlines and everything else imaginable – from travel schedules, to bad decisions, and funerals. It was overwhelming, but more depressing than the crazy deadlines had to be having a boss who thinks she knows best. From job hires to job allocations, travel schedules to problem solving skills, she is a heap of bad decisions and rash reactions. I don’t say this out of spite, but just as is. A lot of work gets unnecessarily doubled up, rejected with no further direction, assigned with no proper brief or account, all because she always has to have the last say. She’s a god when it comes to pretty things, which is absolutely good. We all love us some pretty things every damn time. But pretty things that look good and don’t fulfil its purpose is utter rubbish, if I may say, which is what most of our jobs are – pretty but useless, taking pretty useless almost too literal.

I always thought I had to bring the change that I wanted to see in my workplace, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. As harsh as it sounds, this place rejects change with all it’s got. It is absolutely contented with the standards it’s got, the wonky work system it employs, and the crippling work culture that it nurtures. No good amount of creativity can and will come from this place. This place is stale and stagnant, almost dead of its creativity. And I hate it.

It’s easy to just throw the ‘pack and leave’ card on the table, but calling it quits is yet another major problem. No one person who has left this company has had it easy, not with my boss. Four designers have left since I started with this company. The first was ostracized until recent years for ‘wanting a change of environment’, the second was labelled domesticated and unambitious for ‘wanting to marry, have kids and move to a different state’, the third was called a spoilt brat for ‘wanting a change of work culture’ and for using the magazine as her portfolio (which doesn’t even make sense because the designer was really only showcasing works of hers that were legit), and the last was only recently served a legal warning for posting our magazine pages as part of her online portfolio (which equally doesn’t make sense because she really did work on them), which needless to say, got her frantically removing them almost immediately.

Whether you quit, or you get asked to leave, either way it’s not going to go down well.

It’s sad (or pathetic, whichever) when someone of such a notable position is unable to be the bigger person, even in situations that do not call for any party to feel inadequate, intimidated or challenged. I don’t get it.

Is this what they call ‘office politics’? Good Lord, I hate it.

LET ME SELL YOU A PEN

I watched Wolf of Wall Street just a few days back, and I have got to say that Leonardo DiCaprio made selling those stocks look like tossing candies to a kid.

I came across a book in a store some time ago, something about how our everyday lives revolve around selling. From selling an idea, to selling a suggestion, to selling an actual something or just selling a lie, for that matter. I didn’t flip through the book, if you were wondering. I didn’t even read the synopsis on the back. I just stood there and thought to myself, “Okay. Maybe it isn’t really that hard. I just need to try harder I guess?”

You see, I’m a Project Editor, or so stated by the professional name that is printed on my stack of business cards. But in my reality, I do just about everything imaginable within a small company of four full-time hire. I churn copy, edit, proofread, check designs, art direct, style shoots, sort out the accounts, and I sell ads. I loathe the final one.

It’s bad enough that I somehow got suckered into many of these job descriptions that I didn’t initially sign up for, but the final one – selling ads, takes the cake of assignments I hate.

Chatting with a couple of my teammates sans my boss, I discovered the partial reason why I hate selling ads with every inch of my being – I don’t believe in my product. I am project editor to a mall magazine that is doing great. GREAT. It’s not even just doing mediocre. The publication on itself is doing great, going places (we have done fashion spreads in Tokyo, Shanghai, NYC, Siem Reap – to name a few, and we’ve got London, Milan and much more in the pipeline), and even making it on the iPad, like Harrods or Net-a-Porter. But the only problem is in its reach. It is pathetic, if I may say. Despite the fact that our titles turn 10 this year, people are still always surprised to know that I work for this particular huge-ass mall, with a supposedly awesome mall magazine that has not the slightest resemblance to your cheap product catalogues. You see, the problem is…nobody knows.

And the amount of lies I am taught to tell our clients so that they believe our publication is the way to chuck (oh, I meant “invest”) their dough, and that we are doing ‘absolutely well’ is really getting to me. We tell clients of our non-existent five-figured circulation, and please don’t even get me started on the amount of work we put in, for what seems like a sole play of self-gratification.

Don’t get me wrong. I have a new found respect for the people who sell things as a profession. I really do. I just hate that the product I’m selling is dusted with so much lies, and self-gratifying works, and the amount of effort put into every issue doesn’t justify its outcome; not to mention the purpose of all we’ve been doing since day one.

It’s been six years now. And I am tired. I didn’t see this coming, really. This ad-selling assignment with a meagrely commission (which I’m not even hard up for) was offered to me at the beginning as a ‘thing to do if I can find the time to’. But now, I’m pressed on every side to get paid ads in as if it was what I was hired to do. And FML that I don’t even know how to tell my boss I don’t want to do it anymore.

I was at Publika for lunch today. I walked the aisles of Ben’s grocer and I thought out loud, “I want to do their designs, or stack their gorgeous, gorgeous shelves. No. I want to own a grocer. My grocer.”

I just want to do something I love.
And earn a decent living from it.

THE CASE WITH (LOCAL) CLIENTS

It’s about the client. It almost always is.

I didn’t graduate from a design school. Instead, I graduated as a journalism cum media management student. But I love graphic designing. I love reading and researching about them as much as I love trying my hand at it.

I’ve been asked/encouraged/pushed to start a design line of my own by some friends, perhaps a stationery line. And trust me, I would, if I could so afford it. Start printing and selling my designs or something. But I don’t think I’m there yet, in terms of my skills/techniques and even, financially. That said, I’d love to have my own line of stationeries. Some day.

I do some freelance on my own. I write and design a little here and there, which has brought me to the realization that 7 out of 10 times, our (local) clients tend to pick the lousier option of the lot that’s presented to them. It always happens, for some reason. Locally, the graphic design scene seems to be spilling with cheap skate, play-safe, brain-dead, zero creativity, and just-hurry-and-get-the-job-done clients; birthing a generation of graphic designers that require close to a non-existent use of their creative, out-of-the-box thinking skills.

Our (local) clients are not willing to spend good money on good design. But surprisingly, they’d work you for a creative that combines the sun, moon, stars, Hawaii, Godzilla, Captain America, picture of a tabby cat holding a cup of coffee and saying ‘life is good’, the latest Porsche, a montage of runway models – all while paying you peanuts and commenting, ‘this artwork is lacking the BOOM! factor.’ Yup, that’s right. That’s our (local) design scene for you.

One word. Depressing.
Okay, maybe make that two. Pathetically depressing.

Sometimes, I find myself working up a really good piece of design, and for option’s sake, I throw in another okay-level option that I’ve probably put together in the span of me taking a dump. I feel so good and confident about my good piece of design, and then the client goes and picks the shitty one I whipped up for option’s sake. Sometimes, I just feel like telling them “I’m presenting you two designs. But this (the shittier looking one?) is strictly for option’s sake. This (the nicer one I spent half my life putting together) is the one you will pick.” Haha! Truth.

Someday, maybe the cloud of pathetic budgets and tasteless designs will lift to reveal a bigger, better world of fresh, young minds that have been stifled by the aforementioned factors. And hopefully it will not be too late.

{venn diagram by Colin Harman}

27 LIFE LESSONS I LEARNED AT 27

This year, I turn 27. I’ve learnt so many lessons I’m thankful for, and will never trade them for anything. I know a lesson or two awaits us all at every different phase of our lives, these are mine. What’s yours?

1. NO MATTER HOW BROKEN YOU ARE, YOU WILL HEAL There were two relationships in my life, at two very different phases of my life that caused me to doubt any possibility of getting better. But I’m glad I’m standing. Bruised, but standing. No matter how broken you can be, if healing and getting better is what you want for yourself, it will happen.

2. PEOPLE SHOULD CHANGE, BUT SOME DON’T People should change, and they almost always do, for better or worse. But then there are those who’d rather live in the past ways, never intending to move forward – those are the people you have got to leave behind as you progress in life, whether you like it or not. They’ll drown you out at sea, you know.

3. EVERY FAMILY HAS ITS STRUGGLES Mine, included. And I will never take for granted the strength behind families who put aside their differences to hold each other together, to make forgiveness felt within their household, and above all, to love one another all the same regardless of their shortcomings.

4. WORK-LIFE BALANCE SHOULD BE EVERYTHING Having worked for close to six years now, I have realised that the one thing I don’t want to do without is a work-life balance. It is easy to overlook that balance when you’ve got a fat paycheque coming your way every month, but paying your bills is really just as far as your job would go to sustain you. You only start living when your bills are paid, and you have a life beside work to love.

5. IT’S OKAY TO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU WANT IN LIFE Sometimes, we look far and wide trying to figure out what we want in life, failing to see that occasionally it is good enough for us to know what we do not want in life, and take life in all its possibilities, from there.

6. IT MATTERS WHO YOU ARE WITH Friends or partners alike, it matters. They inevitably contribute to who you become, adding and subtracting along the way. The good ones, they build you. The bad ones, they tear you down. I’m not saying you should size up anyone, but it’s good to take a look at the people you spend a lot of your time with and decide if letting go some would do you more good than harm.

7. YOU SHOULD ALWAYS HAVE A SPACE TO CALL YOUR OWN Whether it’s a home, or just a room, having a space you can, in my very own words ‘crawl into and die’ makes a difference to a crappy week. Paint it in your favourite colours, and decorate it any way you like it, like I did. It’s where you will go and find sanity in the midst of insanity.

8. PEOPLE CAN LEARN TO BE KIND They can, but more often that not, only because someone showed them what kindness is. I’ve learnt to pay it forward, in the things I do and say.

9. LIVING, IS THE BEST REVENGE I have realised that sometimes, living is perhaps the best revenge to anyone who has ever hurt you. Just living for yourself and knowing that you’re doing great, not just OK but great, without them and all the shit they’ve been giving you feels like everything you need and more, from a revenge.

10. THERE WILL NEVER BE TOO MANY TATTOOS Never let anyone or anything determine if you should start or stop having tattoos – and in my opinion, not even your faith or the people associated with it.

11. QUITING ISN’T NECESSARILY ALWAYS BAD People always associate quitting with the negative, but in fact, it could just save your life. If it keeps you from burning out, quit. If it keeps your health from deteriorating, quit. If it brings you down, quit. Calling it quits from the right things might save you your sanity.

12. FEAR IS INEVITABLE EVEN WHEN YOU’RE GOOD I had a crazy week that just passed – meetings, shoots and lots of planning. Despite having done all that for the past six years and believing I’m reasonably good at them, I still know what it is like to fear being under-prepared nonetheless.

13. WHEN ONE DOOR CLOSES, ANOTHER OPENS This rings truer than ever for me. I think when one door closes, it actually pushes you out into this open space of everything-ness, or vulnerability that forces you to meet new people and accept new possibilities, and more often than not, it is good.

14. ACCEPTANCE COMES TO YOU WHEN YOU LEARN TO ACCEPT YOURSELF It’s absolutely noble to believe that acceptance will come to you when you learn to accept others, but what about accepting yourself first? I realise I tend to push people away because of the way I see the flaws in myself, and while it isn’t fair to them, it is definitely not fair to myself either. Self-acceptance isn’t preached enough, if I must say.

15. NO AMOUNT OF PREPARATION WILL PREPARE YOU FOR LIFE To the parents or parents-to-be out there, believe this. No amount of teaching and telling will beat allowing your kids to go out there, live their lives and learn from their mistakes. Don’t spare the rod, but don’t keep them in a bubble either.

16. CHURCH IS GOOD FOR YOU, BUT NOT ALWAYS I grew up going to church every Sunday and sometimes, I inevitably feel like it becomes a little society that we enrol ourselves in at. Instead of going out there and being real, we relinquish our fate to a higher being and sit on our laurels praying and hoping for change to happen. There are so many rules and regulations within just four walls, and a whole bunch of judgemental Christian people that sometimes, it just gets too much. Take a breather, and know that it’s okay to walk away from church once in a while.

17. GIVE AS MUCH, AND TAKE AS LITTLE The world is accustomed to giving little and taking a lot. But as cliché as it probably sounds like, it really does feel good to give, more than take. Looking back, my life has its richness it has today, all because I gave. There’s no doubt you’d get taken advantage of, but trust me, it still is much more fulfilling being a giver than a taker.

18. EATING MAKES A LOT OF THINGS BETTER Feast like there is no tomorrow. Eating makes people happier. And I believe that is precisely why they serve food at almost every occasion imaginable – funerals, weddings, parties, and gatherings…you name it. So eat, and eat hearty.

19. BE CRAZY, EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE I was told once before that I took myself too seriously, and I believed it. But I found out the hard way that craziness really sets in with being around the right people – those who allow you to be crazy, and in fact, even encourage it without judging you based on your level of lameness. Everyone needs to let loose.

20. SEE THE WORLD, EVERY CHANCE YOU GET Travel. Every chance you get, travel. Whether you have a lot, or a little, travel. It throws you out into somebody else’s world and culture, and leaves you experiencing a lot more than your world would have offered on its own.

21. FALL IN LOVE AGAIN, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU GET HURT We all say we’ll never love again when a heartbreak strikes, but I’ve come to learn that love can happen when you allow it to. I’ve learn to not stop falling in love, and above all, to not stop trusting people.

22. MAKE YOUR PARENTS YOUR PRIORITY Every time I sit down with my parents, I’ll notice that they’ve aged a little here and there. It scares me to think I’d lose them some day and so, I try hard to put them before everything else, and to spend as much time with them as I possibly can. They deserve to be a priority.

23. FALL IN LOVE WITH BOOKS “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.” – George R. R. Martin. Enough said.

24. WAKE EARLY ON THE WEEKENDS My weekends are scarce. There are weeks that I feel like I’ve gone through without a weekend and it sucks big time, frankly. It’s a simple gesture – waking early, but it really makes a difference when you feel like your weekend’s been maximised and not the slightest bit wasted.

25. WRITE Whether it’s a book, or a journal, a blog or a Question-A-Day rant, write. Writing gives you a certain freedom that nothing else can give – the freedom to confide, to think, to deliberate and to reflect.

26. LEARN TO SAY NO Because this will help you not get burnt out, wear thin or get walked all over. Learning to say ‘no’ has helped me keep a healthy balance between time, effort, people and the matters that truly matter.

27. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN HAPPINESS No one else will truly be interested in your happiness but yourself. There’s only just so much that people can do for you, and I’ve learnt that you’ve really got to go out there and build your happiness. That’s really just how it works.

I CAN DIE NOW

Have you ever had those times when you did something – something perhaps almost never thought of, and so crazy it is an incredibly life changing testimony, and one that you would actually say, “I can die now” to, with absolutely no regrets.

This was my I can die now moment yesterday.

On Wednesday, I was on my home and just around the corner from my where I work; I saw this black and white dog sitting by the roadside, just next to the grassy curb. I didn’t stop or think much about it because I thought it was very normal for strays to sit around wherever and whenever they please. And just yesterday, on the way back from lunch with my photographer, I saw the same dog at the same place, and in the same position. It was raining and there was a lady with an umbrella squatting next to the dog, and from my distance I could see a Styrofoam food pack next to the dog. And that was when I knew something just wasn’t right.

My photographer dropped me back to office and I immediately drove out to where the dog was. Apparently the both the dog’s hind legs are injured, fractured or broken perhaps. This lady, Margie who was there to help tried to strap a muzzle on the wounded dog but she wasn’t quick enough so it ran a short distance, completely dragging its hind legs behind it and hid head first under Margie’s car. Wedged between the curb and under her car, the dog kept growling when we tried to coax her out from her position. I made a few vet calls and so did Margie, but the good ones were out on their house-call rounds. So she hopped in my car and we drove to Kota Damansara to get a vet to come with us to tranquilize the dog, and that’ll help us get her out from under the car, into a box and to the vet safely.

Dr. Chan came with us to administer the tranquilizer, and she was out in a couple of minutes and we lifted her into Margie’s ride and off she went to the vet.

Dear Margie, I couldn’t think of a better person that could have come to the dog’s aid. Though we’ve only known each other a little more in that short ride to the vet’s, I think you are an amazing lady in your own rights. The heart you have for these furry friends go beyond everything else, and I know there really is no better aid than yourself and your friend, Charmaine who first alerted you of the dog.

After my photographer and I placed the dog in Margie’s backseat, I couldn’t help but feel like today was an amazing day. Almost always, we tend to think that someone will rescue, someone will feed, and someone will adopt these poor animals. But we fail to realize that to everyone else, we are that ‘someone’ to them as well, and we are all just sitting around and hoping for everyone else but ourselves to get their hands dirty.

If it were a person by the roadside, it wouldn’t have taken this long for someone to come to his or her aid. People turn a deaf ear and a blind eye just because it’s an animal – a life we think is worth less than ours, more often than note. That’s what is incredibly heart-breaking. But I choose to believe that there are many more people like Margie out there in the world, saving, rescuing and loving these animals like their own kind.

After the whole ordeal, I went back to my office, washed my hands and sat down to a hot cup of tea, thinking…I can die now.

{Dr. Chan administering the tranquilizer shot while the poor fella continues to hide head first under Margie’s ride}

p.s.: Margie and her friends work together to spay and release strays so that they don’t reproduce and elevate the problem of strays on their streets. Their works are absolutely not for profit, and above all, funds and subsidies are entirely raised or requested for by the team of people. The dog is now under medication and observation. The vet is giving it two weeks to see if it regains its ability to walk before proceeding with any further procedures from there on.

CHANGE IS INEVITABLE, THEY SAY

I don’t think I’ve ever been this distraught over anything. Maybe my first break up about 10 years ago did mess with me a little, but really, nothing this horrible.

For the past couple of weeks or slightly more, I did actually think I was doing alright from the break Mr. Bentley and I had agreed upon. But I’ve never been more wrong. I’ve patted myself on the back for surviving two weddings since the break, but it wasn’t easy at all.

Everyone says that change is inevitable, and I couldn’t agree more. But most of the time, change feels like it subtly invades your space, and thus you have no choice but to accommodate it. Then there are those times when you get thrown into a situation that only change is what would possibly keep you alive, and your sanity intact.

…and that is the phase I am in – forcing myself to adapt to keep my head above waters.

Some changes I have attempted and am attempting, slowly but steadily:

A TATTOO BEARING A MEANING FAR TOO PERSONAL I’ve always sworn off tattoo-ing something that directly connects me to a person, like a name or a birth date or anything that would probably turn out to be a regret with time. But this time, I allowed myself to get inked based entirely on this phase I’m in. I got a phrase ‘this too shall pass’ and my first graphic ink, an anchor. The phrase, to remind me that everything, good and bad is but temporary. And the anchor, a symbol of two things to me – keeping myself grounded, and a reminder of things I’ve perhaps anchored my life around.

MY ROOM, ORGANIZED For the three years Mr. Bentley and I were together, he has probably been to my room less than five times, really. It was always a mess and despite him saying he wouldn’t judge me for it, I never allowed him in. Not even a peek. I decided to clean it out once and for all, because life’s too short to keep turning people down from entering my room when that space is really a reflection of who I am, and is most definitely the one place I wouldn’t mind hanging in at anytime.

TAKING UP SCUBA DIVING The abundance of time I have on hand since not going on dates shall be put into scuba diving lessons of some sort. I was all set to attempt a dive course with some friends but it clashed with my New York trip. It’s as if God knew there’d be a time I could use these dive lessons a lot more than my initial plans had it. Hopefully it takes shape some time next year and I’d be a certified diver by mid-year. I even toyed with the idea of a free-diving experience just reading an article on it last week on my flight to Singapore. Maybe.

GETTING A PLACE OF MY OWN This is a big decision, I know; nothing like the other three. But I feel like getting a place of my own would take my mind off the rut I’m in. I’ve been house hunting, both online and visiting physical properties, reading up and weighing out all my possible bank loans and their procedures. I think channelling my energy (and finance) into making a space my own will perhaps give me a sense of accomplishment that would hopefully remind me that while I might not be where I want to be, I am where I need to be. And that’s what matters most.

GOING BACK TO STUDYING I was thinking of going back to studying. Gemology studies, perhaps. Maybe getting out of the country for a good while would be an alright move to help me put things behind. And if it’s hard to get out there on the grounds of work, I suppose going out to study would do. And plus, I’ve always wanted to study gemology and learn the art of cutting stones and setting them, and earning a fat pay cheque with that. Haha! But yes. The idea is very tempting. Though I am also considering staying put in my job and doing a stint at Central Saint Martins College of Arts and Design some time.

QUIT A MINISTRY Don’t panic yet. I’m only quiting one to join another. I have given it some good thought-time and decided that I want to quit the Worship ministry to be part of a more encouraging one, the usher ministry. If you are like everyone else, you’d probably ask why. It’s simple. Worship leading in my church can get quite depressing because the congregation is not receptive at all, and it always feels like you’re the only one up on stage belting it out and trying to coax them into worshipping with you. I know it’s for God, and not men that we worship but let’s face it, no one appreciates a dead crowd. Not especially when you practice for two whole hours almost every week (small church, small duty rotation), song-arrange and whip your music team into shape only to have the church complain that the songs are too new/too fast, drums are too loud, worship leader has got too many tattoos and whatever. It’s depressing, and I can’t wait to get out, frankly.

ADIEU MR. OCTOPUS!

Today, I noticed an email in my inbox – “Reminder: Astrid Winding Down”.

As messy of a person I am, I surprise myself at being rather organized with everything else besides clutter. I have three apps to keep my finances in check, two for my bills, two for my task lists, two just for reminders of all sorts, a passbook for flight bookings and a password keeper on each phone (I carry two phones by the way). All these apps have kept me on track with well, my life as a whole.

To receive that email announcing that Astrid is closing down, thank you for being an Astrid user over these years, please download your data and check these other sites out for migration…brought an unexpected gush of disappointment, and a sense of lost.

I picked out Astrid of all the other task list apps because it was aesthetically awesome. Well, at least to me, it was; that ever-smiling Octopus waved me in at iTunes App Store and I was hooked. Download.

…and now, it is unfortunately, time to wave the ever-smiling Octopus out of my device.

Dear People at Astrid,
Your team and the app has been amazing. Maybe not perfect, but it has been a great deal of help to someone who lives almost out of her suitcase, lugs two phones, an iPad and a laptop to be on top of her job and attempts to find time for oysters and champagne in between those hours spent with her family, friends and work. Your app has made it easier for her to remember her meetings, and not to mention her parking lot when her head’s wrapped around a million other thoughts. Sorry if she hadn’t written you enough of a thumbs up review or given you a 5-star marking to keep you in the market. She will forever miss that ever-smiling Octopus and if ever, Mr. Astrid the Octopus (assuming that is his name) decides to make a comeback, she’ll be the first to flip your download counter. All the best hereon, Team Astrid.

Sincerely,
Girl who first downloaded Astrid because of the cute Octopus.

{Mr. Octopus of Astrid.com}