It has certainly been a few years since I last wrote on here. In fact, it has been so long, I had forgotten I had started this blog stream aside from the random one and the other really random one. I'm sorry if I disappointed any readers who loyally checked the blog, although I think my readership wasn't all that big and they/he/she may have given up hope by now. I know I would have. Nonetheless, I've decided to tap out some letters as it has been a very long time since I wrote anything on a computer that wasn't a business proposal for work, and I feel rusty in my writing and my wit (if there was ever any) grows dim. So this is as much for anyone out there as it is for myself.
So much has happened since I last logged on and typed on here it would be impossible to capture it all here so here's my best attempt at the Cliff Notes version.
- Outlasted the maximum amount of time I thought I'd be in the funny foreign land. I have now been here 5.5 years now. Oz must be doing something right, with that said I do really miss home and the SD crew.
- Got a promotion, which I didn't think would happen when I first arrived here, still with HSBC.
- Met Dan through online dating (not speed dating Joe, sorry to disappoint), got engaged to him, and this year we're getting married in November in Sydney!
- Got a bloody wedding to plan!
- Finally set foot in Italy and absolutely loved it! I want to live there and just eat, cook, and drink for the rest of my life. Paris, not so much.
- Saw a few of my friends get married and have kids on Facebook. God bless Facebook! Wish I was there to celebrate with you. XX
- My little brother's wife had a baby girl named Audrey, and her photos bring me joy every time. It's kind of bizarre seeing your brother and his wife's likeness in this mini baby version. I don't know how to describe it...kinda adorable, tripy and irreconcilable at the same time.
- Got an all expense paid free long weekend trip to watch the Waratahs play the Hurricanes in New Zealand. It was certainly a test for the liver on Saturday. Wellington is a beautiful city and instead of roads they have elevators for people to get up to their houses on the hillside.
- Came to realize I cannot drink like I used to, I've become a granny.
This certainly isn't my best post but it made me feel better that I tried to capture as much of the last 2 years on here. Hopefully, I will have better luck at keeping this up to date as I have cancelled cable tv to 'claw' some of my nights back after work. That is if the wedding blog and planning doesn't take up all of my time!
Missed and still missing you. Big hugs.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Untitled Draft
- came across this in the draft box dated June 21, 2011, apparently I had ripped my underwear that day.
When I first discovered blogging it was a way to kill time and validate silliness with a purpose. It was an instant gratifying medium to publish what was profound and brilliant at the moment (usually after a few beers or wines) without jumping through too many hoops.
Now, I realize it is the last remaining outlet aside from the good ol' fashion diary to put forth my thoughts because nowadays you just can't be too careful about what you write on your status on Facebook for fear it will be copyrighted by what's his face or data mined by recruiting agencies and potential employers to be used against you; in either case you lose getting money. Another reason is you can't really post anything longer than 2 lines because that is just impolite in the fast paced world of acronym laden updates and incredibly small midget thumb stamps of approval. Lastly, your freedom of speech is further impeded by the fact that you did not learn you don't have to "friend" everyone. So now you have to be mindful that your status post might offend friend #267 who rarely checks your status but happened to on the Wednesday you had a bad day at work and #267 happened to be your boss.
Maybe I'm getting old and prudent, but I stopped myself from posting an update about ripping my underwear yesterday. It was not as exciting as it sounds, and it was mostly due to wear and tear. It didn't exactly rip in a particular funny spot, but it did make the funny undewear tear sound. I couldn't think of a way to post it without being overly cheeky or lame as I had just explained it. Come to think of it, it wasn't all that funny after all, kind of like a badly executed whoopee cushion.
So now it's 1am on a Tuesday night, and I'm not sure where this is going. There were a few things on my mind I wanted to put forth, but none of them are related to each other--similar to the rambling I have just demonstrated. On that note...publish.
When I first discovered blogging it was a way to kill time and validate silliness with a purpose. It was an instant gratifying medium to publish what was profound and brilliant at the moment (usually after a few beers or wines) without jumping through too many hoops.
Now, I realize it is the last remaining outlet aside from the good ol' fashion diary to put forth my thoughts because nowadays you just can't be too careful about what you write on your status on Facebook for fear it will be copyrighted by what's his face or data mined by recruiting agencies and potential employers to be used against you; in either case you lose getting money. Another reason is you can't really post anything longer than 2 lines because that is just impolite in the fast paced world of acronym laden updates and incredibly small midget thumb stamps of approval. Lastly, your freedom of speech is further impeded by the fact that you did not learn you don't have to "friend" everyone. So now you have to be mindful that your status post might offend friend #267 who rarely checks your status but happened to on the Wednesday you had a bad day at work and #267 happened to be your boss.
Maybe I'm getting old and prudent, but I stopped myself from posting an update about ripping my underwear yesterday. It was not as exciting as it sounds, and it was mostly due to wear and tear. It didn't exactly rip in a particular funny spot, but it did make the funny undewear tear sound. I couldn't think of a way to post it without being overly cheeky or lame as I had just explained it. Come to think of it, it wasn't all that funny after all, kind of like a badly executed whoopee cushion.
So now it's 1am on a Tuesday night, and I'm not sure where this is going. There were a few things on my mind I wanted to put forth, but none of them are related to each other--similar to the rambling I have just demonstrated. On that note...publish.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
2011 New Year Resolution
So, I'm into my 4th year in the land of Oz...What will this year hold? How will it be different? How do I make it better?
Well for one, I'm taking a semi-negative approach (but really it's positve; read on). My Asian upbringing of trying to be everything to everyone is starting to wear on me. I think somewhere between lacklustre coworkers (in Australia) deleting me from FB while I still work with them day to day and being hungry after 2 slices of thin crust pizza while other people had a pile of 6 crusts on their plates; I decided to adapt a slightly unconventional (un-Asian) approach to life: Look out for Numero Uno. Most of you that read this blog will immediately realize how unrealistic that is, and I hope you do, because most of you are exempt from this semi-negative resolution. And you know who you are.
It's more about the peripheral acquaintances who, frankly are hanging on by a thread, will be impacted. But really, do I think they really care? Probably not. At any rate, I accidentally deleted my ex-boss in Australia while trying to figure out the difference between FB's "Limited Profile" and "Blocking". In the process I had blocked this person and when I tried to unblock it ended up deleting them. So let that be a lesson to the rest of you contemplating the same course of action. But the new me is not going to send them an "add me" request as the old one might have done in a state of panic remorse;I will instead hope that this whole thing will go unnoticed. (It probably won't and, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn"). And if not, well it's probably about time they realized their lack of good will towards me wasn't completely lost. I've tried to be the bigger person and I decided to go on a diet in 2011 and cut out out the negative fat in hopes of becoming more positve; Positive Poe as opposed to Pessimist Poe. Besides, for the matheletes out there, while two wrongs don't make a right, two negatives do make a positive =).
I'm not trying to rain on 2011. God knows he has as evident in Queensland and Brasil.
Cheers to the new year and my other more positive resolutions are below:
1) Don't sweat the small things (i.e. blocking/accidentally deleting former boss)
2) Appreciate the true friends I have, again refer back to resolution #1, don't sweat the rest.
3) Stop trying to control everything ( no more planning except for my holidays). I suppose this makes me believe in fate and destiny by default. Not sure how I feel about that.
4) Be in the best shape of my life. Now this isn't a cliche. I had Mono this year. And I realized how important health and fitness was. Ironically I was miserable that I couldn't jog or exercise because I was too tired. It all made me realize how important it was to preserve my health in case of bad days at the office that I could still at least kick a punching bag's ass.
5) Most of all, appreciate how wonderful life is because I have friends like you who read this blog still. My wonderful friends that I wish I was with every moment of my life and your life.
Happy New Year!
Well for one, I'm taking a semi-negative approach (but really it's positve; read on). My Asian upbringing of trying to be everything to everyone is starting to wear on me. I think somewhere between lacklustre coworkers (in Australia) deleting me from FB while I still work with them day to day and being hungry after 2 slices of thin crust pizza while other people had a pile of 6 crusts on their plates; I decided to adapt a slightly unconventional (un-Asian) approach to life: Look out for Numero Uno. Most of you that read this blog will immediately realize how unrealistic that is, and I hope you do, because most of you are exempt from this semi-negative resolution. And you know who you are.
It's more about the peripheral acquaintances who, frankly are hanging on by a thread, will be impacted. But really, do I think they really care? Probably not. At any rate, I accidentally deleted my ex-boss in Australia while trying to figure out the difference between FB's "Limited Profile" and "Blocking". In the process I had blocked this person and when I tried to unblock it ended up deleting them. So let that be a lesson to the rest of you contemplating the same course of action. But the new me is not going to send them an "add me" request as the old one might have done in a state of panic remorse;I will instead hope that this whole thing will go unnoticed. (It probably won't and, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn"). And if not, well it's probably about time they realized their lack of good will towards me wasn't completely lost. I've tried to be the bigger person and I decided to go on a diet in 2011 and cut out out the negative fat in hopes of becoming more positve; Positive Poe as opposed to Pessimist Poe. Besides, for the matheletes out there, while two wrongs don't make a right, two negatives do make a positive =).
I'm not trying to rain on 2011. God knows he has as evident in Queensland and Brasil.
Cheers to the new year and my other more positive resolutions are below:
1) Don't sweat the small things (i.e. blocking/accidentally deleting former boss)
2) Appreciate the true friends I have, again refer back to resolution #1, don't sweat the rest.
3) Stop trying to control everything ( no more planning except for my holidays). I suppose this makes me believe in fate and destiny by default. Not sure how I feel about that.
4) Be in the best shape of my life. Now this isn't a cliche. I had Mono this year. And I realized how important health and fitness was. Ironically I was miserable that I couldn't jog or exercise because I was too tired. It all made me realize how important it was to preserve my health in case of bad days at the office that I could still at least kick a punching bag's ass.
5) Most of all, appreciate how wonderful life is because I have friends like you who read this blog still. My wonderful friends that I wish I was with every moment of my life and your life.
Happy New Year!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Ode to Gifts from the Sea
I've been thinking about the last two and half years here in Australia; the trials and tribulations, the highs and triumphs. I knew moving to Oz meant making sacrifices with friends and family to freedom to drive and buying $2 wine. What I didn't know was that the healing process of homesickness, if that's even possible, is not linear. Sure, you get used to it after a certain time, but just when you think you're managing it a wave hits you, retreats, but leaves behind little reminders like seashells on the beach.
So I'm walking along this beach, it reminds me of San Diego. I pick up each shell I come across and brush the sand off to examine it in my hands. This black mussel shell reminds me of the cool summer evenings with a touch of balminess from the ocean and it reminds me of the mussels I used to buy from the fish monger at the Del Mar markets on Saturday mornings; a ritual I used to love. That ritual is now replaced with fresh coffee and garden games at the park's Saturday market. It's a great way to start the day, but it's not quite the same; no worse, no better.
All these shells I treasure and soon I can barely keep them all in my hands as I collect each off my memory lane beach. The last one I pick up is a conch shell, spiral shaped like a snail. I've always been fascinated with this one. It starts off with a generous whirl and swirls into a tiny infinite dot. You can hear echos of the ocean waves when you put it to your ear like haunting laughter of good times past. Yet, you could never see what is at the heart of the spiral. Could it be the heart and soul of happy memories or something dark and secretive? I suppose I could saw it in half to see, but I don't have the means or tools to solve the mystery. So I put this seashell along with the others on a shelf and gaze and wonder about life and loved ones on another shore.
So I'm walking along this beach, it reminds me of San Diego. I pick up each shell I come across and brush the sand off to examine it in my hands. This black mussel shell reminds me of the cool summer evenings with a touch of balminess from the ocean and it reminds me of the mussels I used to buy from the fish monger at the Del Mar markets on Saturday mornings; a ritual I used to love. That ritual is now replaced with fresh coffee and garden games at the park's Saturday market. It's a great way to start the day, but it's not quite the same; no worse, no better.
All these shells I treasure and soon I can barely keep them all in my hands as I collect each off my memory lane beach. The last one I pick up is a conch shell, spiral shaped like a snail. I've always been fascinated with this one. It starts off with a generous whirl and swirls into a tiny infinite dot. You can hear echos of the ocean waves when you put it to your ear like haunting laughter of good times past. Yet, you could never see what is at the heart of the spiral. Could it be the heart and soul of happy memories or something dark and secretive? I suppose I could saw it in half to see, but I don't have the means or tools to solve the mystery. So I put this seashell along with the others on a shelf and gaze and wonder about life and loved ones on another shore.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Long Day
It's been a long day and not in a good way. It's been one of those long days where you're working like mad but nothing seems to be getting done. I suppose the light at the end of the tunnel is that I'm setting myself up for multiple wrap ups to loose ends soon, but I think that may be what working this weekend is for.
As I climbed the stairs out of the train station, I thought to myself, "I could really use a glass of wine." Indeed the liquor gods were smiling upon me when I picked a neighborhood to live because there were 2 bars and one bottle shop on my walk home. I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the bottles of wine in the bottle shop. For a split second I tried to talk myself out of pity drinking but that thought quickly evaporated as my feet started me in the direction of the shop. I scanned the shelves for something reasonable (translation: cheap) because I knew I would only have a glass and the bottle would end up being wasted. I was disappointed to see the $5 clear skin shelf empty, must've been a bad day for many. Luckily there was a $6 clear skin section and I decided in the spirit of Australia to go with a Shiraz. I walked up to the counter and unabashedly put my bottle on the counter as if saying, "Final answer." The clerk nodded sympathetically as he scanned the barcode and put the bottle in a brown paper bag. He gave me a knowing grin as he handed me my purchase, and I was on my way facing the obstacle of getting home quickly in my painful heels to crack open my bottle.
As I climbed the stairs out of the train station, I thought to myself, "I could really use a glass of wine." Indeed the liquor gods were smiling upon me when I picked a neighborhood to live because there were 2 bars and one bottle shop on my walk home. I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the bottles of wine in the bottle shop. For a split second I tried to talk myself out of pity drinking but that thought quickly evaporated as my feet started me in the direction of the shop. I scanned the shelves for something reasonable (translation: cheap) because I knew I would only have a glass and the bottle would end up being wasted. I was disappointed to see the $5 clear skin shelf empty, must've been a bad day for many. Luckily there was a $6 clear skin section and I decided in the spirit of Australia to go with a Shiraz. I walked up to the counter and unabashedly put my bottle on the counter as if saying, "Final answer." The clerk nodded sympathetically as he scanned the barcode and put the bottle in a brown paper bag. He gave me a knowing grin as he handed me my purchase, and I was on my way facing the obstacle of getting home quickly in my painful heels to crack open my bottle.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
What Is Love?
When we were young and naive our notion of love was that it was the endgame; love conquers all. And it did, or it seemed to be the case when one was infatuated with someone. Somehow we were able to see past the obstacles. Ain't no mountain high enough, and love would find the way and lead us down the path of happily ever after. In our minds there was always a solution no matter how much reality and society tried to keep love birds apart.
As we got older and wiser, (say entering the gateway of our 30's) a growing suspicion accompanies every twinge we feel with our heart strings. Was that butterflies or indigestion? We were told to listen to the other voice inside us that we ignored in our youth, but all it did was make us second guess everything. Suddenly factors we'd never consider, but our parents used to nag about, rose to the forefront of our decisions about our feelings regarding a special someone.
Yet, if we're rationalizing our feelings, are they really feelings anymore? Explaining our feelings to ourself is like flambeing a Baked Alaska and we end up with a gooey mess after the good part of the rum evaporates. Despite all that, the worst part of defining our true feelings is buying in to the cynicism of self preservation. "Yes, geography is an issue; we are literally a world apart. Yes, communication is an issue; we dont' know what's going on in each other's lives." And the list goes on. Soon, we talk ourselves out of the possibility of any future with this person whereas our younger egos would have thought of relocating and saw the move as an adventure or found creative ways to open up the channels of communication. How do we expect anyone to meet anyone half way if both give in to their internal debates of pragmatism?
As the years go by, will our view on love stay the same or will it revert back to our youthful optimism? Perhaps it will evolve to take on another form of hybrid cynicism? In any case, at any age, whether it is to find a solution to keep that luvin' feeling or to strap on a parachute while free falling we have to agree that when we hear the question, "What is love?" the answer in our minds is inevitably "Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more" (followed by some crazy wailing).
As we got older and wiser, (say entering the gateway of our 30's) a growing suspicion accompanies every twinge we feel with our heart strings. Was that butterflies or indigestion? We were told to listen to the other voice inside us that we ignored in our youth, but all it did was make us second guess everything. Suddenly factors we'd never consider, but our parents used to nag about, rose to the forefront of our decisions about our feelings regarding a special someone.
Yet, if we're rationalizing our feelings, are they really feelings anymore? Explaining our feelings to ourself is like flambeing a Baked Alaska and we end up with a gooey mess after the good part of the rum evaporates. Despite all that, the worst part of defining our true feelings is buying in to the cynicism of self preservation. "Yes, geography is an issue; we are literally a world apart. Yes, communication is an issue; we dont' know what's going on in each other's lives." And the list goes on. Soon, we talk ourselves out of the possibility of any future with this person whereas our younger egos would have thought of relocating and saw the move as an adventure or found creative ways to open up the channels of communication. How do we expect anyone to meet anyone half way if both give in to their internal debates of pragmatism?
As the years go by, will our view on love stay the same or will it revert back to our youthful optimism? Perhaps it will evolve to take on another form of hybrid cynicism? In any case, at any age, whether it is to find a solution to keep that luvin' feeling or to strap on a parachute while free falling we have to agree that when we hear the question, "What is love?" the answer in our minds is inevitably "Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more" (followed by some crazy wailing).
Thursday, April 29, 2010
I'm Officially Bored (and Expressionless)
Let's face it, I've been out of the bloggie game for awhile and recently I've found my interest in amateur point and shoot photography waning. I don't know if it's the onset of the thirties that brought about this ambivalence, perhaps as impending signs of existential crisis on the horizon. All I know is things that used to interest me aren't so interesting anymore and I've truly lost the zest in something. It's like burning your tongue and not being able to taste. There is no joy and no enjoyment.
Yet at the center of all this indifference there is a conflict I am trying to quell inside me. Like an inverted storm, calm on the outside, turmoil in the eye, I live my days like a mute zombie. I have words to say, too many words in fact, but I can't seem to put my thoughts in order. I can't decide what I want to say. I over analyze and then abandon my thought process in frustration. I am trying to figure out what I want, but it's too hard, or maybe too easy. I know what I want, but I am denying myself of it because I don't think I can have what I want. So I persuade myself that Plan B is better for me. I decide for myself that B is better than A without knowing if A was attainable or even what A really was.
I'm too proud.
I'm too scared.
I'm a proud coward.
I'm waiting for a sign.
I'm refusing to see the lack of signage.
I'm a blind man with X-ray vision.
And when I think of all this, I decide to distract myself with Facebook, TV, or something else less thought inducing. And so, I'm officially bored and expressionless.
Yet at the center of all this indifference there is a conflict I am trying to quell inside me. Like an inverted storm, calm on the outside, turmoil in the eye, I live my days like a mute zombie. I have words to say, too many words in fact, but I can't seem to put my thoughts in order. I can't decide what I want to say. I over analyze and then abandon my thought process in frustration. I am trying to figure out what I want, but it's too hard, or maybe too easy. I know what I want, but I am denying myself of it because I don't think I can have what I want. So I persuade myself that Plan B is better for me. I decide for myself that B is better than A without knowing if A was attainable or even what A really was.
I'm too proud.
I'm too scared.
I'm a proud coward.
I'm waiting for a sign.
I'm refusing to see the lack of signage.
I'm a blind man with X-ray vision.
And when I think of all this, I decide to distract myself with Facebook, TV, or something else less thought inducing. And so, I'm officially bored and expressionless.
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