wander, woman

Sometimes I wonder if someone will ask me what I've been doing in 2020. And assume I lost my job, or I didn't do "much" because don't know-- I'm just scared of the fact people are going to hold me accountable for my low productivity in terms of career progression. I have to apply for studentship next year, and they might ask me why I didn't do anything related to my goal of getting hired for one this year. Harsh, but possible. It's as if it's a sign of desirability, to have been able to 'rise' through this unprecedented times by doubling productivity. You see, I did try. I tried looking for something to keep myself engaged, just so I don't lose that connection. I had a couple of almosts, but nothing really materialised. Past mid year now, and I will still try.  I home schooled my kids this entire time. My son, who is P3 this coming September knows how to multiply using the fingers method. My daughter, incoming JK, can write her name and...

(this was written in 2015) It was the first day of the new year. my husband and i, together with our then-only child, went to Disneyland in Hong Kong to watch this spectacular show called Paint the Night. A bit odd for a family with a small child perhaps, to be spending New Year in this place of artificial lights and manufactured happiness. But I took pictures, and I did remember how my son’s eyes widened with all these lights—one of his favourite things in the world. In his eyes I saw magic. All that waiting on the sidelines, cold and crowded, dissipated. But we were not alone in experiencing this magic. That night we saw groups of Filipina Domestic Workers with their charges enjoying the show. It was one of those rare moments I saw first hand how these things like care and motherly nurture can indeed be manufactured too.   The taking turns of who goes to the toilet so that the kids are still looked after. That sharing of food, that patient nudge, hugs every now and then, when som...

So, finally after 2 and almost a half year I finally thought "yeah, i think i can do this marathon". I'm referring to my birth story, which I thought I don't really need to document, and I've read a lot about from other people, and that I thought it's fine, I will spare everyone the details of how I laboured for almost a day, and that my son does not need to know how I suffered happily (neck deep in sarcasm here) to get him out. Seriously, the only thought that comforted me that time was "it will all be over soon. it will not last forever." Funny. I am writing now because I am challenging myself to write about something concise. And that because I want my son to read about this when he's old enough (because he can read now, and it will only be a matter of months before he can read a story by himself. oh boy, can he read.), and maybe come back to it when he needs to be reminded and assured. That I am a sentimental shmuck, and I deman...

"that's it, i'm staying here". donostia, bizkaia, 2011. A friend and I were talking over the weekend, about plans, upcoming trips, more plans. "The thing I hate most about travel is that after-feeling." She confessed to not being able to go back to productive work for a week or so, post-trip. The relishing, that ache and longing for it not to end. I was nodding my head the whole time as I knew of that feeling. I remembered how it took months for me to let go of my first European adventure, not to mention the efforts to 'extend it'-- that endless googling for work opportunities, overseas scholarships, projects. Boy, that "European holiday withdrawal syndrome" is a bitch. However, having once in my life--been able to successfully get into everyone's dream sequence of an extended holiday, I thought I should give insights on how to cure this "decease". 1. Have something to look forward to, upon coming back My uncle...

Yesterday, on our way back to Singapore from Manila I had, for the first time in a year and hours to 5 months-- I had my me time. It dawned upon me an hour or so midflight, With the two loves of my life beside me, and there I was, flipping through a magazine. I finished reading two. I even made it halfway through Walter Mitty. It was the quiet, that moment of peaceful bliss. Things are unfolding, just so you wait.