Takeaways From A First Job: You're Not Gonna Love It

So I've come to realise I only ever write whenever I'm faced with a huge pain in the butt, heartbroken or whenever I'm transitioning through different milestones in life. Guess this is me transitioning out of my first full-time job! Yay, maybe I should Facebook milestone this ASAP. 

Writing this because it's a useful reminder for myself (and anyone else who reads this space) about the exponential growth that you will face in your twenties, upon graduation and when you enter the workforce with your initial wide-eyed wonder and drive, and then slowly deteriorating and like a car running low on fuel. How I spent my 11 months fighting hard at work and trying to balance all the other wonderful millennial twenty-something problems I have, attempting to find purpose and meaning despite the struggles, and how I eventually learnt to let go (practically) and found another job.

I'll talk about what made me and how I actually got up from my butt and managed to find another job and quit my audit job another time. This post is already getting a bit lengthy but I hope it helps. 

I spent 11 months as a full-time auditor in one of the big 4 audit firms and like many others, this became my first job because it was "safe", it was "something related to my field of study" because I graduated with a double major in accounting and finance, and it was honestly the only job offer I had at the point of graduation. Times are hard, man.

3 THINGS TO EXPECT FROM YOUR FIRST JOB:

1. Expect yourself to know nothing

Despite interning with the firm for about 2 months prior to joining full-time, the first few months was a huge learning curve for me. Be ready to learn, have an open mind and be super (i mean super) open to constructive criticism. If your colleagues have a better or more efficient way of working things out, never be afraid to ask them to teach you (and hopefully they'll be willing to share), but never ever think that it's embarrassing to ask "stupid" questions!! This is so important!! Throughout my 11 months I've asked pretty "stupid" questions that miiiighttt have made me look like an audit noob to some of my seniors, but I'm lucky that they're all pretty understanding and just know that a year or two ago, they were in the same shoes as I was. That makes everything seem a whole less awkward.

When I first started out, I knew nothing about excel shortcuts and basic every-day functions like vlookup and how to construct a bloody pivot table. Took me close to about 4 months of everyday excel usage to really familiarise myself with those shortcuts and formulae. It's been about 11 months but it's still safe to say on a scale of 0 being "knowing absolutely nothing" to 10 being "knowing everything", I'm probably just made it to a 1. Or maybe a solid 1.5. We'll get there.

2. Expect lots of struggle and patience (!!) is truly a virtue

What is life without its constant struggle? I read somewhere that life is really all about choosing the things and problems that you would sacrifice yourself for because let's be real, we can never live a pain-free and problem-free life.

During the 11 months doing a nature of work I was not necessarily good at was hard because as much as I tried not to overhype the thought that I will l o v e my job (just like what every movie, advertisement and instagram post tried to tell me), I couldn't let it go. Screw you social media and ridiculously inflated expecations!!! I couldn't see it in the right perspective that would make me hustle hard and see the meaning behind the work I was doing. If the work you're doing is boring/meaningless, then you just have to find a way to change your perspective in order to get by and not get too depressed, right? Right.

Having patience with yourself is so important because we always love to set unrealistic expectations for ourselves and it really takes time and effort to try to reach that realistic expectation vs your actual performance and work and realising what are the factors contributing to your performance. It's hard but also very normal to constantly benchmark yourself against others.

I'm still trying to find that right balance in making sure that I'm not lagging behind too much but also trying to be okay with my own pace when I work. It's not always good to compare though I would say a good amount of healthy competition and stress would help propel you in your performance at work.

3. Expect yourself to pick up the shit if things go south 

I don't know about you but I was so conditioned to handle problems at work almost the exact way I handled problems I faced in exams/school. It was so difficult trying to seggregate the nature of the two problems, because it was almost natural for me to go into my auto-pilot "how-to-solve-problems-when-in-school" mode.

Whenever I got stuck with a problem in an exam, we were always taught to skip it and move onto the next question. Even training myself to do that was a chore because I was always the kind of kid that refused to move onto the next question until I solved the one I was stuck on. And when the questions got harder as we moved up the educational ladder, I had to train myself to let go and move on. But you know, being students, we always had a lowkey choice as to whether or not we could: a) leave it blank b) give some sub par answer and hopefully try to score some method marks here and there c) wreck your brains out and try your freakin' hardest.

I'm an a or b kind of girl, 100% honest with you. This is also probably why I never got my first class.

Okay, back the point. Because I was so used to being okay with blatantly giving up whenever I hit a hard question or doing bare minimum enough to get me a couple of method marks here and there, this approach was the only approach I was able to come up with when I was faced with problems at work and it was naaahhhtt guuud!!! It was a struggle, man. I literally had to force myself to rewire my thought process and it really trained me not to keep giving up. All I could tell myself was that it was impossible to give up because the responsibility was mine to deliver on my part and no one else was going to pick up the shit unless I did something about it.

Shit doesn't move unless you do because you're the shit. - Rachel Tan, 2017. 

3 THINGS NOT TO EXPECT FROM YOUR FIRST JOB: 

1. Don't expect to make friends, just colleagues.

Basically, have the most open mind you can possibly have.

Coming back from Melbourne did give me a broader perspective and I was definitely more open to chat and socialise, but the problem is: I went into orientation holding the same expectation that the people there were going to do the same. Maybe I was already conditioned to think that way because many of the Singaporean friends I made in Melbourne all mostly held the same mentality that they're all away from home, so they're more open and willing to put themselves out there to strike up conversations with other people. After a relatively huge culture shock and feeling like a fish out of water throughout my 3D2N orientation program, I went home crying and completely hating everything because I was unable to "make friends" like how I used to back in Melbourne and in school. That was one misconception that I had when I entered into my first job - I expected everyone I met to be friend material where we would have that "instant click" and we'll all be BFFs having brunch and really top notch conversations. But instead, I was swamped with boring questions and lots and lots of work-related talk, "what clients are you on?" "Do you know any seniors?" "What sector are you in?" "I heard xx was a terrible client.." the list goes on. 

Ultimately, it was my first job and inevitably due to the flaws of the human mind, we're most likely to enter into a new environment with a set of ideals and expectation. That's no one's fault. And that's honestly really okay, but the lesson learnt is when your expectations and ideals are not being met (high chances that this will happen), you cannot sit down, sulk, get angry at people and the circumstance you were placed in. Instead, get back up on your feet and readjust your perspective on the situation and remember to always try to have an open mind, open heart and listening ears. Back in school, we were given the privilege to choose who we wanted to work with. But at the workplace, you can't possibly choose who you want to work with and who your colleagues are going to be and most importantly, not everyone's going to be your friend. You just have to adapt and adjust to your surroundings and the people around you. This was initially very hard for me to navigate around but I've learnt that humans are social creatures and we are all equipped with relatively strong adaptation skills. Trust in those innate skills and you'll slowly find yourself being able to adjust quickly to new surroundings and different people.  

2. Don't expect work-life balance (the way the social media makes it out to be)

Millenial shit. Instagram hypes it up too much and we forget about the daily grind that most of us goes through rather than the 2% of instagrammers with their perfect "hustle-hard-but-still-got-time-to-post-really-sick-flatlays-of-my-new-chanel-bag" posts. However, this really taught me how to prioritize my limited time to do really meaningful things. 

During peak I worked non-stop and at a point in time, I was so burnt out from work that I literally spent my weekends sleeping and only headed out for meals with my family.

(hey but at least I still had my shitty humour in tact during peak period yeah.. ;-) )

I learnt that I get energy from spending time with friends and family, where I get re-energized for the week with the conversations and time I have with them. So during the peak period where I couldn't get out of bed and stayed at home all day, I was upset and the work week seemed like it dragged on continuously for 2 weeks. It felt like there wasn't a break so I decided to go out every weekend, whether or not it was to run a lame errand with my family or it was a quick catch up session with a friend. This helped my brain mark the end of a work-week and tell myself it was time to relax, even just for a bit. 

3. Don't expect everyone to have the same work ethic as you

This is still pivotal learning issue for me because I understand that different companies uphold different values and cultures. Cultures are mainly defined by the majority of the employees within the company and what they stand for and how they function as a whole. What I've learnt during my time in a large Singapore-based audit firm is that no matter what, somehow this bad mentality of the number of hours I put in at work somehow correlates to how much work is being done, ultimately reflecting whether or not I'm a "hard worker" or a "slacker".

It's probably a generalisation but this is personally what I've experienced throughout my 11 months working and maybe it's a very "Singaporean/kiasu" thing to do. I entered the work with a very Australian-laid-back-super-into-work-life-balance mindset, where I initially stood very firm on not turning on my work laptop at home, getting off from work at 6:30/7pm every day and keeping my weekends very isolated from work things. However, as time went by and evidently many of my colleagues and seniors had very different perspectives on this whole work-life balance thing, they had no qualms working till 1/2am every night and sacrificing weekends slogging out at the office (at least the office has air con on weekends, they say. LOL), it got very hard to stand by my strict work-life balance values.

I've also had people give me judgmental looks when I say that I want to maintain a work-life balance, and others discouraging me from it because it comes across as if I have other things in life that are more important and that in itself was a negative connotation. Looking back, prioritising a life outside work is NOT a negative thing and it's NOT something that appears to be "slacker" or "lazy" because it just goes to show that you prioritise a life outside of work more than the other person and that is OKAY. 

What's NOT okay is the bad culture that deems you as "slacker" or "lazy" just because you don't clock in at least 4 hours of overtime and you don't work weekends. Eventually, I caved into the peer pressure and found myself routinely coming home and turning on my laptop to continue with more work and seniors would find it okay to send me emails at 1am, expecting me to read and sometimes respond to them as soon as it gets sent out. That's when I started feeling very depressed, overwhelmed and that work never ends. I no longer had the values I initially once felt so strongly about and that made me feel like I disappointed myself or lost myself in the process.

This was an issue I really struggled with and spoke to a few close friends about, but eventually, the solution to this problem was really asking myself what was important and what I could do to stop feeling negative about work and how to make myself feel better. It took a huge amount of effort to consciously not turn on my laptop once I reached home and dealing with the guilt that ensued from not working when I came home was something that was a tough pickle to deal with. Logically I knew that it wasn't necessary to feel guilty for not working during after-office hours, but irrationally I felt like I was "slacking" or that "other people are still working now, and you're not, this is why you will always suck." !!! SOooooo many people struggle with this in the workplace I was in, but I think what's needed is really not to give a shit about what others might think of you but at the same time be answerable to the quality and quantity of work you've done during office hours. 

OKAY!!! I'm done with this long-ass rant and I'm glad I've managed to pen my thoughts down despite it being pretty repetitive! Huge shout out to my best friends, my rock my shelter and everything else in between, and my new friends/colleagues that were the best source of strength and comfort whenever work got too hard, you guys also know who you are. It's been a hell of a ride working at the big 4 and despite it's crazy challenges like the mad working hours with crazy deadlines and sometimes difficult team mates, I have learnt so much and this experience has made me come out stronger than before (ugh cliche, I know).

To the next chapter in life, here I come!

TwentyOne (21)

I would love to just copy and regurgitate whatever I wrote in my 20th birthday post because I just realised that I still relate and I still stand by the same things that I previously mentioned in that birthday post. 

But this year is a little bit special because 1. I'm freaking 21. It's probably not that much of a big deal. I exaggerate too much. 

2. I'm back home and I get to celebrate my actual birthday with my family and friends here in Singapore. No more early or belated birthday dinners! 

Would first like to give some love and shout out to the following friends that have been so selfless and patient with me. I'm terrible at these things, and usually closer to the event date I tend to lose all excitement and give up. 

1. Thanks to Kevin, for always never failing on bringing my ideas to life in terms of beautifully created invites and the postcard as a door gift! Everyone loved them so much. 

2. Thank you Sufang, @fang_cakes for making the best cake and desserts for my 21st! I really wouldn't have anyone else bake my cake for my 21st. The earl grey berry cake was to die for and got completely wiped out at the party! Thanks for also turning my matcha brownie suggestion into real matcha brownies which tasted so good and perfecting the best batch of soft baked cookies I've had in a longgg while. Always feels good supporting a fellow TK girl and junior! :-) 

2. Thanks to Mistika, Marcus and Kayla for always being so positive and encouraging! Also kudos to them for waking up early to help set up the venue. I am eternally grateful. 

3. Obviously thanks to everyone that made it to the party. The title of the FB event was "IT'S NOT A PARTY WITHOUT YOU" and it truly wouldn't be half as fun if you guys didn't show up. I would just be eating catered food for 30 alone in a huge function room. Not cool.

This year celebrating back home, I managed to finally celebrate my birthday with old friends that have seen me through since TK days together with the new friends that I've made in Melbourne, whom I have come to love and appreciate so much. Always something about being in a room filled with people you have met and come to love over the past years. 

Here I am, trying not to overuse the word love too much, but honestly, there aren't any better substitutes that can accurately describe how I feel this weekend. Last year was my last year celebrating in Melbourne, so it was more bittersweet than anything. I was gearing up to say goodbye to a lot of things in Melbourne. This time around, it feels a lot lighter and happier in a sense that this birthday isn't tied up with leaving - something that has been so present in my life the last 4 years. I was always leaving. I celebrate coming home, being back and finally entering adulthood. 

Tonight I finally had some time to myself to sit down and take in all that has happened the past 2 days. I was surrounded by a group of my closest friends yesterday and today, I was with my family members. The laughs I've shared with everyone, the hugs, wishes, conversations and gifts....  I can't even. While sending out my thanks and appreciation messages to my uncle and aunties, I found myself tearing up, overwhelmed by all the love I've received. It is so surreal and I am really very blessed. 

The last few days have been slightly hard to get by and recently a lot of conversations circulate around the topic of the future which is very ~uncertain~. Being someone that is afraid of uncertainty, I've been very anxious about a lot of work and career-related things, and after hearing all the advice my friends and family gave, to be honest, it makes me even more afraid but also comforted at the same time. It's probably weird now that it's typed out in words, but somehow it makes sense in my head. The thing that I've been trying to get myself to do is not to keep worrying. 

Someone once told me that the opposite of anxiety is trusting that life will turn out okay for you. That is so important but yet so hard for me to do!! I'm trying to slowly trust that life will turn out okay and that things will eventually fall into place. In the mean time, I'm appreciating all the support I'm getting from the best people God has placed in my life, people I'm glad to call my family and friends. 

Lastly, I'm thankful I finally get to have a solid birthday celebration with my OG fam cru. It's best feeling in the world, having our favourite chicken rice at some kopitiam on my 21st birthday.

My heart is now so full from the love that I received this weekend. Thank you, thank you, thank you for loving me as I am.

It's a choppy post, I apologize.
Thanks for sticking it out here with me.

A Full Heart And Wider Eyes

Sometimes life really has a way of letting me know that it is so beautiful and I should really sit down and appreciate it for a moment. 

Travelling in itself has its beauty, tediousness and confusion all wrapped up in a couple of days placed a few thousand kilometres away from your comfort zone. Sometimes I hate it, sometimes I take it for granted and ignorantly set foot into a country without genuinely learning more about its people, culture and stories, but other times like this, I. Fricking. Love. It. 

Meeting new people at home is scary enough. Meeting new people overseas gets me even more anxious and I have mad respect for solo travellers and people who are so comfortable in placing themselves out there to speak to people. But I am so glad I managed to pluck up enough courage (or faked it enough), to find myself 3 MRT stops away from my hotel, in a small little Jap bar, sipping on beer and sharing stories with someone I have only known for 3 days. 

We met for only a short while, but we shared similar perspectives, bonded over our common understanding of gender, family and relationships in general. We had the same worries, agreed on the same issues and laughed about a lot of things. I was so at ease and so comforted that despite the distance, be it by culture, language or the geography, our views on things were mostly similar. Having an opinion is great, but empathy is sosososo important and I have learnt over the years to appreciate it in every person I meet. 

I fall in love with good conversations too quickly. I say it like it's a bad thing. It's not. I am in love with the conversation we shared, that connection we had in that particular moment, and that look we both gave each other as we sighed,"why didn't we meet earlier." It's hard to put it into words but I know what I felt and my heart is full again. It's the same kind of feeling when I saw the whales and dolphins swimming so freely out in the waters of Kaikoura, the same kind of feeling of screaming into the prettiest sunset I have ever seen in my life in the car on the way to Queenstown and the same feeling of taking off your make-up and clothes, being at complete ease with yourself. 

Never ever regret putting yourself out there to meet and talk to new people. Though you will realise that you're no special snowflake- it's really not always all about you, okay? You will also be so comforted by the truth from the phrase: you are NOT alone in crappy circumstances. There will be always someone out there that will share the same sentiments, believe in the same things and have a similar understanding despite the different experiences that lead up to gaining those perspectives.

We are all human after all. That is the greatest common denominator. 

Final Sem Music Favourites

Have been listening to a lot of music lately and here's a playlist with allllllll my favourite music coupled with the right kind of vibes. My best friend told me that this playlist has been helping her get through her day and I can only say the same for myself. 

Since you guys come here to check up on what I've been up to, or just simply killing time- 

why not take a listen? 

I hope you find some of your future-favourite-songs. I love sharing music with friends. 

Also guys, once you go Spotify premium, you can never go back. 

First Thoughts After Visiting The ICU For The First Time: V.

Sometimes life takes you from the law library trying to grasp the concept of bonds and credit risk as though it is the hardest shit you've ever studied, to scolding the receptionist at the A&E department because I have never heard someone (from the A&E!!) so unsympathetic, rude and annoyed after simply asking a few questions so, "could you perhaps have some TACT, especially for someone working in the A&E, what kind of attitude is this", to finding myself sitting in the waiting room to the ICU on a Tuesday night, acting as if I was the cousin of a girl I've never met before.

Everything I knew about this girl was hurriedly scribbled down on the back of my blackball order receipt- her name and her birthday. That's all I knew about her, and then suddenly, while trying to figure out what happened to her, with a few Facebook searches and googling, things started to get pieced together: A facebook photo showing that they went to grampians on Monday, vicroads reporting a car accident today at 6 pm somewhere along grampians, and then an article saying that 3 of the people involved in the accident were tourists. 

It's so scary, how traffic and accident news that we so often passively glance through or hear on the radio are actually affecting REAL people. To large extents, even. It's perhaps ignorance on my part, and to only realise it now... but the magnitude of it all... it's still something that I'm trying to comprehend. 

Having her parents - complete strangers call me, was the first time I heard pure fear and worry for their loved one, in the ICU, 6069km away from them. They weren't within reach, but a stranger like me was waiting right outside the ICU for news about their daughter. 

"If you see her, tell her mummy and daddy loves her and she will make it through." 

"Okay auntie, I will." 

I still get goosebumps when I think about that. 

Being someone that is absolutely terrible with hospitals, terrible I mean like my knees turn real jelly-like at the thought of blood and I feel lightheaded and anxious with the overpowering sterile smell (which has a terrible association with death in my mind), but being able to make it to the door of the ICU, prepping myself to go all out to see a stranger, all wired up and bloody, to pray for her, was something that was a considerable feat, given my crappy ability to handle hospitals. I never expected myself to be placed in a situation like this and I am so glad that through it all, I had Jodie and Anthony that were so willing to provide the support and comfort by just.... being there with me. 

V's parents are currently catching a red-eye flight to Melbourne right now and till now, they don't even know how she got involved in such a serious accident. They got a call saying, "your daughter might not make it", that's it. I can't even imagine how they must have felt and how much sanity they lost upon hearing such terrible news. Next thing they knew, they're on a flight to Melbourne, on a cab to the ICU. 

It's been such an unpredictable Tuesday night, and through this experience, it has really allowed me to sort quite a bit of my self-indulgent, narcissistic perspectives into place. The fragility of life has too often been taken for granted and the lesson that life is uncertain is something that I should be learning how to embrace.  

I am so tired... but there is so much to be thankful for and I hope that by writing this, tonight's incident can serve as a reminder for myself that you should always help someone to the best you can, regardless if you know them or not. 

V may not be someone I hold onto dearly - I only know her by the scribbles on the back of my blackball order receipt, her one FaceBook profile picture I have access to, and now we're also fake cousins (i lied to the hospital), but a life is still a life. She has people that love her so much and while she's fighting for her life on that bed and through the CT scans tonight, her parents are fighting back tears and hoping, praying and wishing for a miracle only God can provide for their beautiful daughter. 

I can only do the same.

(edit: I am sosososo amazed by the crazy amount of support the family is getting from everyone that heard about this unfortunate incident. Be it from strangers, family friends, acquaintances etc. Humanity is real, and it is beautiful y'all. Never hesitate on reaching out to help people when they are caught up in crappy circumstances.)

+++ surplus +++

It's simple economics. If you have excessive supply - too much to give, too much of you (the skin and the fats that drape all over your body), the demand will never be optimal. "Too emotional." "Too tall." "Too big." "Too rough as a girl." "Too nice." If you draw the graph up and look at the figures: 174 cm, uk10-12, 41 ... let's not even get to what my weight is because that is a fucking exuberant amount. 

All my life I've been told that I've been in excess. And so I wish for the day there will be a demand that meets this excess supply. People naturally seem to gravitate towards the things that are limited in supply. If it's a love that is hard to get, people go crazy over that challenge. The lesser your tummy rolls, the lesser the cellulite, you will be more desirable. That is probably why I am never wanted enough in these ways. Because what I have is too much in supply. It becomes a waste.

I ache for a love that I have never received, and the validation that I've been struggling to find in everything else but myself. I am always half empty, finding means and ways to empty everything else from inside of me because I am too much, always too much. 

Self-love is foreign and complicated. The hair on my arms stand when I think about loving any part of myself. My fingers are unable to tie the words "self" and "love" together on the keyboard without my mind denying any truth that that word might have on me. 

For someone to be told their whole life that they are in excess, it is funny how I feel inadequate with everything that is seen as excessive.

I have been sleeping too much and it is evidently proving no good. 

NTS: To be deleted. 
Because bad thoughts should not cloud up empty spaces.

15 Little Delightful Things

A few of the good things that have happened over the past week: 

1. Playing a game of very intense Monopoly at our place on Friday night

2. I woke up before 12 noon every day the last week

3. I even managed to wake up at 7 am to get Lune

4. Skyped my brother for 3 hours and mum for 2 hours

5. $2.15 honey soy chicken drumlets from Woolies for dinner

6. Possibility of dad coming to my graduation

7. My housemate cooked us beef stew on Monday and it tasted divine

8. Having friends text you out of the blue and ask how you're doing

10. Prayed to God about my group mate woes and the next day He answered my prayers (Thank You Jesus)

hang in there, there's lots of good stuff that happened this week - I'm almost done. 

11. Stayed home the whole of Saturday and lounged about in pjs and a make up free face

12. Attended the Melbourne Queer Film Festival with Jodie.
It was such an experience being part of something so inclusive, so welcoming and beautiful. Also bumping into our Media, Identity and Everyday Life tutor from last semester made my night. Turns out he was one of the judges for the Queer Short Film competition. It was also he who called out my name when we were walking out of the cinema, and being recognised by one of your favourite tutors is one of the best feelings, in my opinion.

13. Laughing so hard because Jodie said that our tutor probably thinks we're officially girlfriends now because he always sees us together, be it at tutorials, lectures, consults and queer film festivals. Defo lesbos.

14. My best friend, Mistika, found my favourite (it's in bold because that how much I freaking LOVE IT) Lipton Peach & Mango tea in the aisles of the supermarket in Singapore

15. Hot showers on Autumn nights here in Melbourne

This week I've learnt to find love in the small things. 

If I keep placing unrealistic expectations on myself and the things around me, I can never be satisfied with how everything plays out - regardless of how good I've actually got it. It's terrible, I know.

So the last week was all about placing aside my obsessive need to achieve unrealistic shitty goals I set myself up for. I've changed my take on viewing things a little this week and with wider eyes and a quieter mind, my heart is delightfully full. 

Old People Teach You The Greatest Lessons

Note to self: taking that 30-minute train ride down to Springvale to visit my grandaunt and granduncle is possibly one of the best decisions that I have made during this easter break. Staying over for the night is also the next best thing. 

I've promised them countless of times the past 4 years I've been in Melbourne that I would stay over at their place some nights, whenever I'm free, whenever I can. But obviously, that never happened because I was too caught up with my own life and always leaving them on the back burner, only responding to them whenever the old folks decide to give me a call to check up on me. 

This time around, I decided that I should just stay over for one night and they have wifi, anyway. Called my mum up and she told me, "yah, just go. Go and stay with the old folks, it will probably help you feel better about things, you know? To clear your thoughts." 

It's a wonder how my mum always picks the right words to say, because when she said that it immediately made me feel as though I made the right decision. I gave up a housewarming party to come stay over at my grandaunt's place and to be honest, it wasn't the usual struggle to make a decision (I usually hate not turning up for social gatherings that people have cordially invited me to) (I also hate turning down people because, what if they will never jio me again in the future?). Perhaps I haven't been in the socialising mood the past few weeks so this whole social gathering thing did not interest me at all, so coming to the suburbs seemed like a perfect getaway. 

My grandaunt is about 70% blind but she still cooks, cleans and gardens. Last night, she called me asking me what I wanted to have for lunch the next day when I came over, and I have been craving fried beehoon with her homemade chilli for the longest time, so I asked for that. She laughed and also threw in the surprise that she would be making curry chicken for dinner since I love to eat curry chicken. I stepped into their cozy house and gobbled up 3 plates of fried beehoon - it was my only way of conveying my thankfulness and gratitude for these two old folks for always watching out for me since I came to Melbourne 4 years ago. 

(she even cooked pulau hitam and steamed 2 red bean buns she made the day before!)

My grandaunt also set up the guest room for me- clean sheets, towels and even turning on the small lava lamp (hello 2000s?). This afternoon, while I was catching up on my youtube videos, I've seen how my grandaunt and granduncle spend most of their afternoons. 

My grandaunt makes a cup of tea for herself and turns on the radio, she switches it to the cantonese channel here and tells me in the afternoon they do a cantonese radio show and in the evening, they do a mandarin one. She worried about the noise distracting me but I told her it's fine, I don't understand cantonese, anyway. 

I started coughing and she asked me if I had a sore throat. I was just clearing my throat, I told her. She asked if I wanted a cup of tea as well and then proceeded to make me a cup of luo han guo. It's the sweetest thing because she didn't tell me that it was for my throat, neither did she offer me medicine - she just simply made me a cup and told me to be careful because it was hot. She probably thought I wouldn't know that this tea was luo han guo, and that this was the exact same drink my mother always nagged at me to take whenever I was down with a bad throat, so she just made me a cup with the thought of helping me with that bad throat she heard just now. 

They're a loving couple, really. Granduncle's really quiet, he never really likes to speak but he's always the one driving his grandkids around, playing with them and also always hustling to come pick me up from the train station when I get there. Granduncle's small actions always blows me away, reminding me that love is not only noticable in huge declarations of love, but in small thoughtful actions, especially in old age. 

It's always the small things. He reminds me so much of my own grandfather, how he used to cycle to the market to get my grandma durians because she said she was craving it and taking full responsibility whenever my aunt comes home to discover that grandma had devoured 2 durians all by herself. My grandma can't eat durians due to her diabetes, but my grandfather never cared for that. As long as grandma got what she wanted. 

My granduncle sits on the chair on the right side of the television and stretches out comfortably on it while watching his HK drama. But when my grandaunt walks out in her pjs and is all ready to join in on watching the drama, with literally NO communication needed, he slips down and sits on the floor, legs tucked in under his butt, close to the tv and close to her while she becomes the person that comfortably stretches out on the chair. He mumbles a few sentences in Hakka to her, I assume he's filling her in on the show and then, silence. My mother and I have stayed with them the first few nights when we came down to Melbourne when I was seventeen and she always tells me that that whole scene of them switching places and watching tv is one of her favourite scenes of them. Today while on the way to their place, she told me to keep a lookout for that, because, it's cute! 

I sent this to my mother a few minutes ago, before starting this post: Mummy, here's one of your favourite views. And mine, too. 

What I've realised, is that if you hang with them for a substantial period of time, old people always teach you the greatest lessons and remind you of the simplest things through their actions and sometimes, they don't even know it. 

Every time I come up to visit them, I always learn something new from them and get to hear of stories about our family I've never heard before. Like the other time, I learnt about how they met in the small factory in their kampung and one of my favourite things is listening to them tell me about how much my grandfather used to spoil me with buying the things I liked - he always chose the prettiest dresses at the market for me, and how he used to be the one to voluntarily carry me whenever I was crying. 

“你的公公最疼你的，每次都买东西给你，每次你哭的时候都是他抱抱你上来上去”

People always tell stories of the dead to keep them alive, that was something I wrote a while ago and it's true, you know. Every time I talk to my grandaunt and granduncle, I always find a little bit of my grandfather's stories within our conversations. Listening to old stories and recollections always has this effect on me, like the memories are being ingrained in us the more we talk about it. It is almost very cathartic in a weird way. 

All in all, it's been a good Saturday away from the city and immersing myself with the good company of family.

It is always good to feel at home and at ease.

Wern Han Turns 22!

There are only a few friends that I've met here in Melbourne that I'm so glad to find true friendships in and God seemed to have blessed me greatly in this department, because the Choo siblings are one of them. 

It's been a year since we started to get to know each other and shout out to Wern for being my saviour during our summer school, coming up to my apartment to kill the huge bugs flying around. We've shared countless of fun memories throughout the year and having him roll around on my apartment floor laughing so hard he cried, that night on Kai's birthday, is a sight I will never forget. 

I think, one of my favourite memories of us will always be the one that we still laugh about till today - our valentine's day dinner at Killiney's Kopitiam during summer school. It was meant to be a dinner, which didn't occur to us that we coincidentally fixed it on valentine's day itself. And we still laugh about the time where that lady tried to sell us roses and we so cooly brushed it off. Twice. I also joke about how after that crappy dinner at Killiney's, I wanted froyo but you said it was too far a walk and we should just go home and continue studying.

  

Thank you for also spending your first hour of being 22 walking with Bel over to my place to come and get me because I felt really unsafe in my apartment after everything that had happened the past couple of days. 

See, I am always stuck whenever I'm in a situation where I need help, so I stare at my contacts list for far too long, scroll my whatsapp conversation list way too down and I can still never seem to find that one friend whom I can call for help. Thankfully, I've got these 3 people that were so ready to help me out immediately. 

"Pack whatever shit you need to stay safe and come down. We're reaching soon."

Happy Birthday, Wern. I always get nagged at for being too emotional, too soft and always being too nice to people who don't even deserve it. But thank you for being you- your honesty, reliability and words you can give to me as a friend is something I am always so grateful for. I am so happy for you because you finally got the girl of your dreams, that you so patiently waited for and sought after with such certainty. I have never seen someone so certain of someone at the age of 21. I am constantly amazed whenever I see you two together now. 

You have taught me many small but impactful lessons, through your actions and the way you handle situations in your life. One thing, I think, that I've learned from you is that good things happen to good people in time to come. Your level of patience and determination is something that I really need to start acquiring, so thank you for showing me that these characteristics are essential in conquering whatever things life may throw at you. 

Stay rad, stay fab Wernie. 

Rock on. 

OMW

Recently I've met a few people that have told me that they've been keeping up with this space and my... rambles. It's always heartwarming to know people actually bother to check up on this dying space and my crappy attempt at trying to be coherent with my shit. Thanks guys, y'all the real MVPs. 

I'm trying to keep this space solely for things that keep my motivated, inspired and life lessons, you know, that kind of stuff. But honestly, I've been in a rut. 

It's been a long time since I've been motivated to write something interesting and lively because all I've been typing down into my other (more private and full of emotional shit) dumping-ground-blog is, emotional shit. Sad emotional shit. 

There's no point sharing sad stuff twice on two platforms right? That's just multiplying the sadness, which is completely unnecessary.  

The good thing is, I've decided to get my shit together! I'm using the word "shit" more than I actually should but my vocabulary is limited. I'm sorry. 

I've been trying to work on some things for this blog and putting together videos to actually make this space a bit more aesthetically pleasing because right now it's just flooded with words words words and MORE WORDS. I get tired of reading sentences too, so I thought perhaps some videos/photos in the next few posts would help. 

Thanks for sticking it out with my y'all. It's been a rough semester, lol just like any other semester.... and I'm also in the midst of trying to make adult-like decisions like where the hell do I go after graduating, that kind of life decisions... agh. 

2k16 is a little rough right now, but I'm hanging in there!! Be right back with some more interesting, colourful posts guys. I've been too much of a dull person the past couple of months. 

An Attempt At Structuring Things

BODY.

1. 

When they called me regarding the PO, my excitement only lasted for a short while and to be honest, to be very honest, if I were to see myself heading back there for work, I'd dread it almost every day. But I'm glad they called. Because this is exactly what I wanted the day I signed myself up for this internship. My efforts weren't put to waste, so this is what I wanted. I should be content. I am, I am, I am. I am enough. 

Tonight I am so overwhelmed by the sudden outpour of concern and love from the people in my life. An acquaintance- a uni senior, caught up with me over text and was nothing but supportive, in terms of encouraging me in my studies to my new apartment and settling down, to job offers in the future. I also shared the good news to whoever I thought helped me pull through the internship- very important people, and I am just so grateful and to be honest, pleasantly surprised by all their supportive messages and calls. External validation isn't something that I crave for, but all these affirmations from these various friends and family members have been nothing but wonderful. I never knew that sharing good news with friends can trigger such reactions from them. 

2. 

I've finally settled into my new apartment and everything is starting to fall into place and hopefully by the end of the weekend, I will be able to fully settle in. I've filled up the fridge with some of my favourite things that I've missed so dearly and there is just something fulfilling about running errands and making a space feel a little like home. 

3. 

Tonight when Jodie and I were shopping, we went to 3 different supermarkets to try to find our favourite Peach and Mango Lipton Tea, but the first 2 supermarkets we went to didn't carry them anymore. 

And similar to the time when my favourite muesli went out of production, how I constantly gave up looking down the cereal aisle by the second time I couldn't find it, I did the same with the tea by the second supermarket we went to. 

But friends like Jodie, they are the ones that drag my hand down the cereal aisle and constantly tell me, "you can find it if you look hard enough. Let's just try walking down the aisle one more time." Keep looking, keep trying.  

By the third supermarket we went to, obviously defeated, I didn't expect much when we walked down the tea aisle. Just like how I expected it to be, the tea wasn't there. "Out of production la," I said. "It's sad how you take these things for granted. You think that they would be in your life for a little longer, but then suddenly one day you come back for it but it's gone. For good." I scoffed a bit, and laughed at how things could become so deep so quick over our fricking favourite tea going out of stock. 

Then suddenly Jodie excitedly shouted for me, "Look! The new tea is on sale!" You see, Jodie and I LOVE aesthetically pleasing packaging on food, and when visiting the tea aisle in 2 different supermarkets, we noticed this new range of teas that Twinnings released, and wanted to try them. But we didn't let go of the hope of finding the peach and mango tea and the new twinnings tea were slightly out of our budget, so we joked and said, "buy when it goes on sale." 

We quickly grabbed the new twinnings tea and got all excited to try the new tea. I turned my head to the direction where all the Lipton tea boxes were arranged at and I told Jodie, "I guess this is life telling us when one door closes, another will open up. See? Like better tasting tea and more aesthetically pleasing packaging will come to us. ON SALE SOMEMORE!!!!" 

She laughed and told me, "So sometimes you gotta let go of things that might never come back, despite it being your favourite. And for all you know, there'll be better things waiting for you just around the corner, like this tea! Just search hard enough and be patient." 

#mcnuggetsofwisdom attained from going to the supermarket thrice in a day searching for tea.

Also, I guess it's like what they always say?? Third time's a charm. Ha.

4. 

Hearing from someone that you have been missing is always pleasant. It's been a while since there has been nothing but well wishes and honest words. It is everything I miss and it's nice to know that they still care about how you've been doing and cannot be happier when you've achieved something so great with their help. 

CONCLUSION. I

Tonight just further emphasised how it has always been you. 

CONCLUSION. II

It has been a rough start to my day, with Mum and Josh leaving, crying on my bed watching the small uber car icon on google maps move slowly away from me on my phone. Rachel, you always love to set yourself up in situations to make yourself feel even worse , Jodie always tells me. However, the evening had a wonderful turn to it and I found myself tearing up because of all the love I've been receiving from everyone and how everything seems to be finding its place here and there. It's not quite right yet with things, but baby steps right? 

If people have that much faith in me, I guess I should start believing in myself a little bit more.

Here goes nothing -deep breath-

An Affinity With Eights: 821 / 809A / Unit 8

So today I moved out of one of the very few places that I've managed to call home here in Melbourne. 

4 hours. 

That's all it took to pack up and get out. I was angry at first, dashing for everything that I could claim as mine, reluctant to leave it behind despite having more than one rice cooker back at our new place. I simply could not let them have it. I didn't want to lose. For every pot, every utensil that I decided to keep and rip out from the cabinets they have lived in for the last year, it felt like I was collecting small bits of my dignity and pride, as if this were to tell them, look at how empty you are now that I am gone. You needed me. 

It's been an exhausting day for everyone, especially mum, Josh and myself. Before heading to bed tonight, I gently scooted over to Josh's side and thanked him for helping me pack and move. He nudged my stomach lightly and grunted. That was his way of saying you're welcome. 

When mum and I were laying in the dark, I thanked her for powering through the afternoon on barely any rest from our flight back to Melbourne, and she nagged on about things to get from the supermarket tomorrow and how I should be acting around my new housemate, girl ah, next time be a bit cleaner, he's a nice boy, you must learn how to accommodate and understand...That was her way of saying you're welcome.

Truth be told, I've been working and packing the whole day without even thinking. Finally at 3:08 am, I am finally having some time to collect all my emotions and letting reality settle in that these white walls I am staring at are no longer the ones at uropa. My view isn't the skyline of the city and the balcony can no longer see beautiful sunrises and sunsets. 

I miss every bit of that place. Not only because of its physicalities, but also because of the absurd amount of memories created in there. I can't even begin listing them. I am afraid I might start crying and my heart will feel heavier than it already is. I know it's terrible placing sentimental value in something so vast, so fleeting and so concrete. 809A will never budge, but I will move one day, thus depositing so many memories in there will eventually come back and haunt me if I were to ever step in that unit again. 

This new place is ... familiar, but it doesn't feel like home. It's still unsettling. I still feel uneasy and unable to fall asleep on this weird bed that is now mine, and this view that isn't the city skyline. Perhaps this is what first nights feel like. I've forgotten. 

The only reason why I'm up writing this is because my heart is heavy and unsettled and there's that weird sick feeling in my stomach. Maybe it was having dinner at 12:30 am that's causing all this discomfort. It's that feeling as though this space isn't mine to occupy and I'm just borrowing a few square metres of this area to hold in all my shit I've accumulated the past 4 years here. To also hold all the contents of myself in this space, denoted by square metres, and the rental of this space to be paid on the 25th of every month. 

Perhaps it's the overwhelming feeling when recalling today's moving situation: 4 of my girlfriends and my new housemate frantically moving boxes and just things up and down from my apartment to the car and from the car to my new apartment. Some of them lugging empty luggages over to my apartment just to help fit more of my shit and all walking over to my new apartment with all of my shit because the car was too full of shit that it couldn't fit any of us anymore. Seeing Jodie rush over to meet me after school, helping to basically unpack and organise my whole room, was a sight which reminded myself that these friends are true gems in my life. I don't deserve any of this kindness, I am so full of shit most of the time it was hard to digest everyone's selflessness and willingness to help me out today. 

Perhaps it was also the moment when I saw my mother falling asleep on the couch, lightly snoring. It is then I realised that she had barely enough sleep on the plane ride to Melbourne earlier on, but was quick to help pack up my whole house in the afternoon with no breakfast, no lunch and no coffee. A mother's love is deeply moving and so, so selfless. It should never be underestimated. I recall that night that I fell into her arms and sobbed my eyes out, heaving into her wet shirt, because I was so bummed out about this moving situation, losing a close friend and was overwhelmed by guilt that she had to come over, but she hugged me and stroked my head, as if I was 9 again, and told me that it was going to be okay. She will help me. 

So tonight, I am going to head to bed telling myself that it is going to be okay. Mum and josh and all these wonderful friends are here to help me. This place will soon feel a little more like home soon. 

I would like to say I'm homeisck but I'm not sure where is home anymore. 

Seventeen And You've Grown.

five & one.

you were pulling and tugging

my hair like my temper

was short 

you were always cutting it close 

with your carelessness 

with my impatience 

you are still my little brother. 

eighteen & fourteen.

your voice changed

I was away from home and had my heart broken

you would think now that you could swing your arms around me- 

I'd treat you like your age

I was barely there and now when I try to recall 

it's almost like trying to rewind an old cassette video tape recording 

staring hard at the tv screen 

with occasional fuzzy black and white lines in between snippets of our bickering,

our laughter muffled by scratchy sounds from 

everything falling apart,

"you were never there" 

"you were never home"

you are still my little brother. 

twenty one & seventeen. 

we have slaved ourselves to vices 

sticking to the sibling code of conduct:

diss but never tattle

last night like a deer caught in headlights,

she found out.

we had this conversation that I never thought I would have with someone 

only seventeen

someone that is in the same plight. 

I didn't shower and you didn't fall asleep,

even though I smelled like steamboat and cigarettes and you had work the next day. 

I remember looking at you,

finding it hard recognising sadness in your eyes-

they were always either emotionless or excited. 

It was never emotional with you 

restrictive, bounded and built like a man.

last night felt like we were tearing at the seams

I told you with nothing but conviction,

"you have such capacity to say these words that you said at 

only seventeen, 

that I could never have done when I was seventeen." 

I could have never done the same.

Have you ever felt respect for your younger sibling? 

It's a bit weird because they were always

bratty, childish and sometimes almost stupid. 

Last night's conversation was something that kept playing at the back of my head when I was trying to fall asleep 

while trying to be an older sister

I have come to realise

you are still my little brother, 

but

boy, have you grown up. 

Like The Breeze, The Thoughts Of You Come To Me

Today, while crossing the road, I noticed a young girl probably in her first year of secondary school, dressed in a skirt way below knee length and socks perfectly above her ankles. She was walking towards the train station with her grandfather, who had the typical friendly ah gong face and was holding her violin while she carried a stack of folders in her arms. He probably went to pick her up from school, I thought to myself.  And just for a moment, my thoughts went back to my grandfather.

Many times, when popo and I talk about gong gong, it was always about the way he used to spoil me when I was a kid by buying me ice cream before dinner. His bad temper. His sickness. His failure as a father. 

Sometimes, if I try to think hard enough, I'll recall the letter I wrote him with tear stains smudging the ink off the lines on my foolscap paper, begging him to come visit me in my dreams. That letter I wrote to him and left it on his coffin when everyone else left him flowers. The angels will translate my English into hokkien right? I was fourteen years old. 

I will also vividly remember the hot afternoons he used to come down to my place and visit me with a whole box of paus, and longans - if I was lucky enough. And that one sweltering afternoon I wanted to pump air into my bike tyres but we couldn't find a nearby bicycle shop so we he pushed my bike around the whole Joo Chiat area, under the hot sun and never once did he complain that he was too tired. 

From time to time, I'll miss you. And at that split second when I was crossing the road, watching granddaughter and grandfather, I remembered you. The rings on your fingers. Your strong scent. Your pack of cigarettes. Sometimes, a soft whisper of your voice would resound in my head. 

It's been 6 years and death works in a funny way, we talk about the dead as a weak attempt to try to keep them alive. Your stories were never great; they were always about the mistakes you made or how the richer siblings took advantage of your kindness. But they were stories of you after all. 

Popo once told me, "your gong gong never knew the right ways to show his love for his family. But somehow with you, he did it right. He loved you the most, you should know that."

Some days more than the others, I wonder how it would be like if you could see me now. Would you still love me the same? I would still have your weekly visits and hot steaming paus to look forward to, and probably better conversations with you.

Y3S1 Mid Sem Shenanigans

Sometimes you need to remind yourself that you are your own individual person and there is no need to latch yourself onto someone or something or some sort of ideal that you desire for. It's always the case where I find myself stuck in the situation of always being "too nice" and I'm over being that one friend that would risk everything and anything for everyone and giving my heart back so easily to people that have hurt me before. So here's a playlist, future Rachel, to remind yourself that the best decisions you've made are those that were based off what you wanted, what you felt was right, what you contemplated on independently. 

I am my own person I am my own person I am my own person I say this over and over again and please start to believe it. 

(I apologize for the lack of updates, I've been so busy with work and unnecessary shit) 

A Mother's Embrace

Forgotten how a mother's embrace can tear you apart and piece you back all at the same time, with her steady breathing and soothing pats. 

She looked at me with those eyes surrounded by wrinkles, her aged face showing an expression of helplessness as I crumbled in front of her. Suddenly I felt like I was 10 again, apologizing profusely for being naughty and getting all of us scolded by father, "Sorry, sorry, I am so sorry...." 

I could only muster these words, but she knew everything that my heart wanted to say. 

Her hands stretched out to me - like how she has always done so my entire life, "come here." And I did. She hugged me against her chest and told me that everything was okay, that I will be okay and I don't have to feel bad about anything. My guilt was engulfing me whole the last few days/weeks/hours and I couldn't stop bawling my eyes out into my mother's arms. 

Her embrace took out all the guilt that I've been bestowing upon myself the last few weeks, and her pats on my back almost felt like her shooing the guilt out of my system. 

"Mummy will go. It's going to be okay. Don't feel bad anymore." 

I've forgotten how it was like to hug my mother and have her tell me things are going to be okay. Tonight I realized how therapeutic it was, and her embrace stitched back my wounds that were caused by people that were not family. It was infected with hurt, betrayal and disappointment with a tinge of anger. Mother's hugs were like medicine - morphine, almost. It numbed the pain and I felt alright again. 

In her arms, I found my safe place. Oh, how I have missed your warm chest and soothing back rubs, mother.

The Feeling That Lingers / Goodbye Sean

Mourning over the loss of someone is such a weird feeling that I still can't get a grasp of. Regardless of how close we were, or how often we met, or how the some of the only memories we shared were something we couldn't even remember ourselves and had to have our parents remind us - like the time we showered together as kids in the same bathtub, causing the both of us to be embarrassed when we met again when we were 17 and 22. The feeling of loss is still something that I can feel moving through every corner of my soul and the only words I could muster out was, "my condolences", regardless of how rarely we met.

The closer we were, the longer the feeling of loss lingers around in me, that's all. 

I'll miss you. And I know you'll be remembered because your mother dedicated her whole life to taking care of you. What will she do now? She was always worrying over you, hovering and watching your every step. Your father never really got himself involved, but I guess his way of taking care of you was by providing for the whole family financially. Your brother used to act like he didn't give a shit, probably because he never got the attention he wanted because you were sick for a very long time, but he grew older and understood the painful situation that the whole family was going through so he started to love you more each day. 

They all say that it was about time you go because you've really been fighting a long battle that not a lot of people can imagine going through at such a young age. The surgeries, the medication, the pain... the loss of youth. You are only 25 after all. 

I'm glad that we got to share that Thailand trip with you and your mum back in 2012. We had great fun and I'll always remember that night where Josh and I screamed and ran around in circles in our room because there was a frog in the toilet, and you rushed over asking us if we were okay and laughed when you saw our flustered expressions after realising that it was only because of a frog. 

You caught the frog for us and let it go. 

I will also remember the look of determination on your face when we were playing archery that afternoon. When you saw Josh try it, my dad egged you on, "Have a shot, Sean. You've got nothing to lose!" Your mum, as usual, worriedly rejected the idea of having you pick up a bow because your left hand has been shaking ever since your last op. She said that it was something that you were really self-conscious about in front of people. 

Your mum's words didn't stop you that afternoon. My dad managed to convince you to pick the bow up and have a shot. Your hands shook uncontrollably while all of us tried to ignore it like you know, how we sometimes notice a clear difference in how someone acts/behaves/looks but we try to ignore that and treat them all the same? I know I did it that afternoon.

Despite being self-conscious about your shaking hand, the look on your face showed none of that and only seriousness. Probably only sighs of frustration could be heard when you couldn't get the arrow to rest properly on the bow, though that didn't stop you at all that day. You were focused on getting that bow to work the way you wanted it to, and after a couple of tries, you finally managed to shoot one. Into the pond. Every one of us cheered the loudest we could. 

These were the best memories but sadly the only ones that I shared with you. The last time we visited Thailand, your mother said that you were too sick in bed to get out of the house anymore. We didn't even get the chance to visit you then. 

Rest in peace, Sean. Thank you for showing me what fearlessness and positivity meant from your perspective. I know that now you'll be able to walk with your own legs, eat and speak without your mother worrying about you and you'll be able to pick up that heavy archery bow without your left arm shaking.

Your soul has left this sickened body and now, you are free. You are a courageous young soul, and I hope that you're enjoying yourself up there in heaven.

We'll miss you, Sean. 

1 YEAR AFTER TONSILLITIS: HIS WILL, NOT MY WILL BE DONE.

I think when something is so painful and requires a lot from you to get through it, once you've passed it, you can't help but have that whole torturous process ingrained at the back of your head. Like a milestone. I can still remember how shit it was to go through every exam period in university, O levels, inter-school competition and training... something like that. 

I think one of the most unforgettable experiences I've had so far in my short 20 years of living would be the terrible case of tonsillitis that I caught this time last year. It feels almost a bit like celebrating a little anniversary or some sort, you know? Like yay! Congrats, it's been a year since you've fallen so ill until you couldn't stand straight without the room spinning! Good job! 

Looking back on this experience 1 year later - because let's face it, we all tend to subconsciously (or consciously) look back on painful experiences that have passed and relish in the fact that we've come so far ever since. I still feel grateful, content and somehow just filled with God's grace again. One of the greatest takeaways from it was that I had a close encounter with God, and I know I turn my back against religion quite often throughout my life, including this year, but somehow, thinking and reminding myself about this experience always sets me back onto the right path. 

It seems as though this time of the year has been especially blessed with God's grace or something (woah holy holy). I half kid, but the other half of me is actually serious about it. Because the last 2 weeks I've been struggling terribly with internship applications and I was never the kind to brush things like rejections off like dust so easily. So the last 2 weeks included crazy studying for exams (which I am currently in the midst of), sending out about a total of 20/30 emails out to firms, and crying after receiving rejection emails because I tend to be too hopeful and optimistic about these type of things. Which is quite funny, really. 

So mum kept bugging me to keep applying but at the same time, "don't forget to pray, Rachel." x10000 times. I got annoyed for a while because it's not that I haven't been praying. I just didn't understand why God wasn't listening. Till one Sunday, I went to church and had a mini revelation after the sermon, which evidently proved to be really good - I was praying wrongly. Too often we pray with us being the center of the prayer. Of course I would pray for God to give me this internship. Or if that didn't work out, please give me this other one because I really tried my best, God you know it. 

It became me praying about what I wanted God to do in my life, instead of fully surrendering it to him. Very often, that's the case when we think we're fully capable on our own and God would just aid us in providing some sort of divine intervention to steer us into the direction that WE want. When I was down with tonsillitis, it was somewhat easier for me to surrender everything into God's hands because I was physically immobile, physically incapable of doing things that I wanted to do i.e. eat/stand/walk/study. It was easy for me to wake up and go: God, please if it is Your will, help me.

So I went home and prayed differently ever since that sermon. I stopped asking God to let me have xxx internship, or asking him to give me an internship opportunity from places that I specifically wanted. Instead, it was a lot of surrendering and asking God to show me HIS way instead of constantly trying to make things go MY way. His will be done, y'all. It was never my will. On some days, it really is hard trying to have faith and believing that God has other plans for you that will not only be good for you but will prosper for you, especially after receiving rejection emails after rejection emails. It sucks. But I really do make it a conscious effort to fervently pray for God to show me bit by bit, the plans that He has for me. 

And 2 weeks later, after praying differently and learning how to deal with rejections - I had my first internship offer made to me yesterday. And to many non-believers, I would guess that this small milestone would be attested by pure luck and sheer effort of constantly sending out emails. Because, the more you send, the more likely you will get an offer! But I know that's not the case, even though it may seem like it. I know that in some way or another, God has indeed worked his way and revealed perhaps, a tiiiiiny bit of what He wants and what I am to do in the near future. 

It's still unclear if I will take up this offer, as I'm still waiting on other internships, but internship applications and interviews were giving me anxiety and causing so much stress during the last 2 weeks, and finally, God has kind of put it to rest. Thank God. 

I always ask myself why does it take some sort of hardship like my tonsillitis and internship applications for me to really see God working in my life, and being so ignorant and blind to other small things that He might be doing in my life every day? It's hard to constantly attribute your success to God - perhaps because you can't see Him, and it's so much easier and natural to attribute your success to your own effort and special talents. And if things don't work out the way you want them to, it's easy to blame people or blame God for not having things your way. 

Here's a little something I wrote on my old blog when I was reflecting back on the experience of fighting tonsillitis so far away from home: 

I've learnt so much over the last 2 weeks, and it has really indeed drawn me closer back to God. So that's why I was saying this time of the year somewhat feels like a "big lesson-learning" time more than anything else. First it was tonsillitis, and now, it's internship applications. It may be a little issue in retrospect, but sometimes it's these things that you go through that shape you, teach you how to come out a little bit stronger and builds up a little bit more faith in God. I'm glad I got my lesson this time around. 

I took some notes down to remind myself about how I should pray and here it is: 

Now I'm just excited, waiting to see what God has in store for me.