The best things are enjoyed in private

A year ago, I could barely jog continuously for 15 minutes without wanting to hyperventilate. Today, I completed a 10km run within the time limit I aimed for - a time limit hardly impressive for seasoned runners, I know, but definitely an achievement for someone with zero athletic experience for 20 years of my life.

I guess different people celebrate their victories differently - but I've never been the pump-my-fists-into-the-air, flash-a-big-grin, do-the-victory-sign kinda person. With all the achievements I've been proudest of in my life - graduating college on the Dean's List, getting a scholarship to the UK, or this run, I've never been an OMG-I-need-to-call/message-someone-and-tell-them-now! kinda person.

Rather than 'basking' in any success, I prefer to retreat, and have my own space and time to slowly savor what I've accomplished. And when people ask me about it I'm always hesitant to talk about it - maybe it's the Asian modesty thing but I tend to underrate my achievements - like not specifying how high I made it on the Dean's List, or how much the scholarship was for, or how fast I finished the 10k. Notice I still haven't. ;)

Because for me, having people tell me, "Wow, that's amazing!" (not to under-appreciate all the people who have supported me through my life in the least) means far less to me than the personal satisfaction of knowing that I beat not all those other people, but myself. The satisfaction lies not in exceeding other people's expectations, but my own. I've been blessed not to have encountered too many critics in my life. (Not to my face at least, but I guess having an apparently 'initimidating' aura helps. *laugh*) But there are plenty of people who maybe overestimate me a bit - who think, "Aiya you're Crystal what - for you so easy, sure no problem wan!" Like what is that supposed to mean - I'm not human also la?!? Lol.

The best part about challenging myself, beating my previous best, and exceeding my expectations, is that I know the effort that went into it. I know my limits, and I know how much further I've pushed them. No one else but me will truly understand how sweet that kind of personal success tastes - when you're striving to reach new heights not for anyone else but for yourself, to steal a line from L'oreal, "because you're worth it".

Still, even if I don't talk about it, these victories I've mentioned so far are kinda public. Even though people might not know the details or see effort that went into it, people will know something about it. But there are even more personal victories that maybe nobody else but a close friend or two will know anything about. Like deciding, each and every morning you wake up, to be happy. Like letting go of something you've been holding on to for too long. Like choosing to see your parents as allies instead of enemies. And things like that. Things too private to talk about but that take as much courage and effort as the public victories, if not more.

But the private victories - they're often the sweetest ones of all...

...just like romances. The ones you don't need to publicize and prove to the world how happy you are or how 'cute' you look together. That grow and evolve free of prying noses and public arguments. The ones you don't have to untag a million Facebook photos from after Facebook coldly declares you are no longer in a relationship. The ones no one needs to know about at all... the ones you take your own time and space, not that of other people's - to slowly savor it.

I think Facebook lies sometimes. Often, more things are happening not when a person's Wall is abuzz with posts and updates. More things are happening when there are long absences between posts - when real life is being lived, when more things are being enjoyed... in private.

The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses - behind the lines, in the gym, and out there on the road, long before I dance under those lights. -Muhammad Ali

See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls. -Mother Teresa

Live in the sunshine, drink the wild air. -Emerson

I'm a health nut. Not so I can feel good about myself and smirk silently at all those fast-food addicts, late/insomniac sleepers, yo-yo dieters, morning sinus sufferers (okay, maybe a little bit so I can feel good about myself).

Mostly, it's because my body treats me so much better when I treat it well. When I've had a nutritious lunch, it doesn't give me that midday OMG-what-the-heck-am-I-doing-working/studying-get-me-into-a-bed-NOW slump. When I regularly wake up at a consistent time, my body allows me to fall asleep at a consistent time (or maybe that should be vice versa) and I don't look hungover the next day. When I don't overeat but allow myself regular indulgences to keep from binging, I find myself stressing less every time I step on the scales. If I forget my daily dose of cod liver oil, I'll be stuck talking like Donald Duck and going through packs of tissues to deal with my sinuses the rest of the day.

So it's not about being anal or obsessive - it's simply because my body works a certain way, and is governed by certain rules of science and biology, and when I follow those rules, I spare myself a lot of unnecessary discomfort and inconvenience.

Emotional junk food

I take measures to take care of my physical health because I notice and experience direct cause-effect relationships when I do or don't do so. But I hardly so much as stop to think about the same when it comes to my emotional health.

I mean, isn't it more or less the same thing? Just like fast- food, the thoughts and experiences that are tasty, attractive, easily accessible everywhere, and well-marketed and slickly packaged makes us feel good while we're consuming it... but too much of it after awhile... you're smart enough to figure out the rest.

The more I thought about it, the more I'm convinced so many of the same rules apply to our emotional health. Like rest. If we take regular breaks to just rest and recharge our souls, won't we keep from burning out emotionally? Yo-yo dieting, emotionally, is like getting hyped up over inspirational talks or conferences that fire up our emotions but, unsustained, they come crashing down the moment we hit a dull or rough patch.

And just like cod liver oil, taking small, consistent doses of stuff we know is good for us - be it five deep breaths, 30 minutes of exercise, hugging someone you love, or sitting down to a home cooked meal - keeps us from discomforts like stress, tiredness, and loneliness.

For me, it's always simple when it comes to physical health. Avoid the stuff that's not good for me (occasional indulgences allowed because I'm not a robot - as a wise man put it, "losing balance... is part of living a balanced life") and load up on the stuff that is. Why is it not so simple when it comes to my emotional health?

For years, I've stuffed myself with fast-food experiences, entertained people and thoughts that left me emotionally drained, and gotten hyped up about one new passion after another... all of which, I reasoned, was in the name of 'life experiences', which was part and parcel of being a writer. All the people I let in that I shouldn't have, I made excuses for and told myself they were part of 'field experience'.

I sometimes look at friends who take their youth for granted and are willing to put up with sniffly noses, eye bags, and fluctuating weight because they either don't believe taking care of their bodies will make any difference or they are too lazy or too busy to make the effort to do so. And I think to myself they're missing out on so much - a tissueless, alert, and energized life.

You don't know what you're missing till you try it

Today I thought to myself - what have I been missing out emotionally? All those emotions spent on wishing I was someone else, in some other family, in some other circumstance, all the energy wasted on people who didn't deserve it, all the time frittered away on passions I was sure that "this time" I'd sustain, all the effort poured into "getting ahead", from getting out of the house to getting out of college to getting into uni just so I'd be faster than all my peers, all the daydreams of the future because "surely things can only get better from this lousy place I'm at", all the "flab" of insecurity I allowed to build up because I wasn't pretty enough, tall enough, popular enough, or whatever lame thing enough... what on earth had I been missing out on?

These last few days, I've stayed at home, working on pet projects I enjoy, including designing a magazine, attempting to teach myself French, and studying the PADI Diver Manual for a test this Friday, ate dinners with my family, turned down multiple social invitations that I'd have only accepted out of obligation, and spent lots of time with my brother. It's been an ordinary, boring few days. But just like popping supplements or getting a good night's sleep, taking care of emotional health can seem boring on the surface too. Hardly as exciting as being heartbroken or being embroiled in a bitter argument.

But these few days have felt so good. I've noticed as people grow older, spontaneous and genuine laughter becomes more and more rare, but in the past couple days, I've smiled much and laughed much. I've gone to sleep in peaceful acceptance of the fact that I've entered a new season of life, instead of soaking my pillow in tears like I did a week back that things were so different, the friends that had become my family in the UK were so far away, and I needed to readjust all over again. I've closed my Gmail window earlier in the day and left time to actually think (the last few posts are testament to that :P).

At any given point in time, I'm usually wishing I could turn back time or speed it up but this past week I've been happy to take each moment as it comes.

Just like people who've never bothered taking care of their bodies, they don't know what they're missing out on until they try it. Likewise, I never realized how much I was missing out on by always revolving my life around my work, studies, or some boy or another. For the entire last month, my life hasn't revolved around any of the above - a state I have not been in for years. And damn, how much I've been missing out on.

Unending new horizons

"It feels strange the first time. Your mask, your awkward gear, a bit heavy. You ease into the water and your face slips below the surface. Inhale; the air comes with reassuring hiss, and for the first time, you breathe underwater. Your equipment transforms to light and agile, and you're free like you've never experienced before. With that first underwater breath, the door opens to a different world.

...scuba diving means rising to new challenges. It's one of those rare activities that delivers adrenaline and intensity, or serenity and peace. ...diving grows with you - there's always something new to see, somewhere new to explore, some new way to enjoy the experience."

"If you live life on the edge or find pleasure in a pure adrenaline high... you should be a PADI Diver. Whether exploring the secrets of a sunken wreck at a nearby lake, venturing through hidden underwater caverns, or experiencing close encounters with fascinating species in exotic corners of the globe, you'll find adventure on every dive - and meet others who share your quest for unending excitement."

So are the words that the PADI Open Water Diver Manual opens with. I was hooked from the first page.

One month in the city, and I finally remember what made me so excited to leave home for a foreign land. (An excitement that was very quickly dampened by the ridiculous cold and culture shock, but that story has already been told plenty of times.) The city is beautiful, if you stand and look from a distance. When bright lights twinkle, the noise of motorists commuting down highways blends into a low hum, when there's time to sit at a sidewalk coffeehouse and people-watch.

When you're caught up in the rhythms of the city, however, life moves at an almost frightening pace. When you examine it from a distance, as a tourist marvels at an unfamiliar land, without letting its pace seep into you, then the city is a fascinating, soulful place. When the city gets under your skin and into your veins, however, things become clockwork and routine and frenetic and soul-sucking.

I know, because it's happened to me. And after spending a year in a small town which, as much as I complained about it, forced me to slow down and take life at a more natural rhythm, I'm afraid to get so caught up in the competitiveness and materialism and workaholism of the city that my soul has no room to breathe.

Traveling has become an addiction. The feeling of motion, the unfamiliarity of new sights, new lands, and the reminders that the world is so much bigger than my little bubble of comfort and that change is the only constant in life - all of these keep a sense of wonder and awe alive in me. It keeps my hunger to learn more about the world I live in alive.

Sucked into the city's pace, all one lives for is the next paycheck, the next purchase, the next promotion, the next status update in social standing. So much is taken for granted, and so much is complained about. The world is a very small place for people who don't even notice the sunset they drive past on their way home from work every single day.

I'm a city kid at heart. Born and bred among and in tall buildings and bright lights. But I don't want that to define and limit who I am and the way I live my life. Even if I don't always get to travel across land I want to always be chasing new horizons, whether in stories I read, music I listen to, or new skills I learn. I want life to always be an endlessly fascinating exploration of the unknown and to open up to me like a beautiful flower. I want a life that is vast and diverse, so vast and diverse that I'll never be able to say I'm bored or tired of it.

I want a life that, like diving (or at least as PADI claims), always holds something new to see, somewhere new to explore, and some new way to enjoy the experience.

Dear Tioman island, I can't wait to kiss your shores and swim in your seas six days from today. Keep them pretty for me. Love, me. 

A well-ordered life is like climbing a tower; the view halfway up is better than the view from the base, and it steadily becomes finer as the horizon expands. -William Lyon Phelps

Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend or a meaningful day. -Dalai Lama

What's your price?

The thing about returning to a familiar place after you've been away from it for some time is that you come back seeing it through different eyes. The same goes for people you haven't seen for awhile.

I had the opportunity (albeit a rather sad one) to catch up with a whole bunch of college people whom I have not seen for a year yesterday. Sadly, though, what drew us all together for those couple hours was the funeral of a former college mate who took her own life.

Just standing there, observing the people who have been a part of my life for three years of college, while hearing about the circumstances that led to such a tragic death, made me think about what we live for.

Some people live for their partners - to a point of obsession, that they can't imagine life without that person. Regardless of how that person treats them, regardless of the other people in their lives who care about them. And other people put up with jobs they complain about just for the perks and the money.

Listening to the conversations that took place that day, I couldn't help but ask myself, "What about me? What do I live for?"

The thing is, whatever you live for, you live for at the expense of other things. There is always a price to pay for choosing whatever you believe is the most important in life. "So what's important to me?" I asked myself. "What am I willing to sacrifice other things for to have?"

Is revolving my life around one person worth the price of losing my entire sense of self?

Is money and convenience worth the price of my freedom and happiness?

Are those things worth it? I've asked myself those questions so many times. When I see couples on the street or hear about another friend who just got attached. When everyone else is on their iPhones, laughing at some inside joke going on in some WhatsApp conversation that I am oblivious to for the fact that I don't own the phone "everyone has".

And at times like those, it's easy to think yeah, they're worth it. It's so easy to get caught up in what "everyone else" is focused on. Especially as a fresh grad, it's so easy to fixate on career goals and the glittering prospect of finally earning your own cash and actually having real purchasing power. Or on finding 'the One' to settle down and make plans for the future with.

A popular mantra for my generation is that life is what you make it and you choose the life you want - but I don't think anyone deliberately chooses to prioritize money over genuine relationships or even personal wellbeing - it just happens as they go along. No one makes a purposeful decision to become so obsessed with another person that life without them warrants taking their own. Things like that happen gradually and slowly, and you don't even realize that what you are allowing your life to revolve around has changed you.

I used to be so certain that I wanted to settle down by my early twenties, and that KL was where I wanted to put my roots down. Living in the UK made me even surer of that, because I didn't enjoy my time there much, aside from the friends I made and places I got to travel to. I was certain that KL was where I'd left my heart but now, actually returning to it, I'm not so sure anymore.

It dawned on me that my time in the UK, even though I resented much of it, had changed me, without me realizing it at the time. I spent so much of my time there fantasizing about being back home while I was slowly but surely metamorphosing into someone else - someone who doesn't fit back into the places that the old me used to.

And this new someone - unlike the old me who used to be so sure of what I wanted - doesn't have it all figured out. For once, I have no idea what I want.

What I do know, though, is what I don't want.

Today, after church, I drove myself to lunch with the regular bunch of church friends I used to hang out with - except this time, I drove myself - alone. Unlike the many times I hung out with this group of people in the past, there was no one I needed to follow, or wait for - no one whom I had to accompany or who had to accompany me out of obligation because that's what you do when you're with someone.

It felt so good. And no, I'm not being one of those bitter single people who are all, "Look at me, I have so much more freedom than you attached suckers". I'll admit, it gets lonely. Very. Especially on nights when all I'm craving is a hug or a back rub or just someone to spill the thoughts in my head to. But loneliness is a price I'm willing to pay, for now.

And then I drove myself home instead of staying out all afternoon with friends. The old me, as long as there was company, would stay out as long as she could, just to stretch the boundaries of freedom from parents. But now it's a choice - I'm no longer staying out just to get away from my parents' watchful eyes at home or just to see how much trouble I can get away with. Those days are over and done with, and my curiosities on those matters more or less satisfied. Now it's a question of is this actually how I want to spend my time?

Today, my answer was no, I'd like some me-time this afternoon. It's been a hectic few weeks meeting up with people and working on a side project and I want some time to myself, to think, reflect, and process this whole period of transitioning back to life in KL. Right now, I'm under a cooling fan, in comfy shorts and a tank, listening to the soothing sounds of Arms & Sleepers, finally having some time to think and write - and I'm glad I chose to carve out some time for this.

Everything has a price. Question is, is the price worth it?

Is the convenience of some easily replaceable physical intimacy or a ever-ready listening ear worth the price of the time, space, and freedom to discover what I actually want in a relationship, or for that matter, if I actually want one right now? Right now, it's not.

But this freedom to say, "I don't know what I want, but I'm taking some time to find out" - it's worth the price of the lonely nights. Choosing to spend my money on people I care about and things I enjoy doing is worth the price of having an outdated phone or wearing budget store clothes.

I won't say I'm 100% sure of what I want to live for and devote my life to. I won't say I know for certain where I want to see myself in a couple years or what I want to be doing. As for what I want in a relationship, I'm even more clueless. But I know for sure all the relationships I'm seeing as I look around are not what I want (although I'm happy for those who have found what works for them). I know I haven't found a place where I want to put roots down. Or maybe I just don't want to put roots down for now. And that's a start, I guess.

(P/S - Why the purple umbrella? I guess it's because I've never liked the color purple - until now. I find myself liking many things I never used to, and it reminds me that I'm changing and growing. Plus, the solitary figure speaks to me as well.)

The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself. -Friedrich Nietzsche

Vlog: Junk Open Mic @ The Bee, Jaya One!

Had the opportunity to perform at Junk's Open Mic session held at The Bee just yesterday night. Big thanks to Junk for the opportunity and @leviasher for the recommendation! :)

For those who couldn't be there, here's the video! Enjoy!

Also, a big thank you to Min for being my guitarist / backup vocals for the night! :)

Finally, thank you Thomas, Zim Sen, Gal (via Skype), Jer, Christina, and Elena for coming and supporting and cheering us on! :)

Paris, je t'aime

This is a terribly overdue post - three months overdue, in fact. I had written a post about my first night in Paris some time back but never got around to writing about the other two days that was spent there. But better late than never, especially on stiflingly hot Malaysians afternoons like these, when flipping through pictures of Pah-ree in printemps (spring) almost brings me back to those mild, balmy days in the beautiful city.

But first, before I jabber on about what a lovely time I had there, here are two videos that capture the essence of my time there, for those of you who don't like reading lengthy posts (sorry about the inconsistent sizes - didn't realize I was editing in normal for the first one and widescreen for the second).





So yeah, as you can see from the videos, we visited all the famous landmarks - or at least tried to. Queues at the Louvre were too long, and likewise with the Notre Dame Cathedral. The only landmark we actually explored was the Eiffel Tower. (That one cannot miss! Been a lifelong dream - I have a thing for capital cities and tall buildings. :P)

But... you wouldn't have known that from the videos would you? That's the thing I don't get about people who travel just to take pictures / videos of all the 'famous' places they've traveled to just to show that they've been there, and they're so cultured and sophisticated and worldly now.

Don't get me wrong - I don't think there's anything wrong with taking pictures with famous landmarks (heck, I do the same) or following trends... but if people's motivation is to show how cultured and educated and well-exposed and well-traveled they are by visiting popular places or wearing trendy clothes... I think it's pretty pointless if you're not also exposing yourself to new experiences and new ways of seeing the world at the same time.

Because photographic evidence that you've been somewhere does not mean you've experienced the place. And the only way to really experience a new place - or anything new in life for that matter - is to put aside your expectations, put down the camera for awhile, and get wonderfully caught up in whatever it is you're experiencing for the first time.

My highlights of Paris were hardly all the famous landmarks, although they did make for good Facebook pictures. ;) Rather, the things that stuck with me and that I left with vivid memories of are things like:

• spending the first night in Paris in some random bar located down a quiet little street and observing the stark differences between the British drinking scene and the more discreet, yet lively Parisian scene. 
• waking up at 6AM to a deliciously cool morning and the glorious smell of coffee (I swear, if there is a heaven, that's what mornings there will be like, or at least in my version of it) and croissants and pain au chocolat. (If you ever meet a French person, you have to ask them to say chocolat (sha-cou-lah). I swear hearing it in French will make you fall in love with chocolate if you haven't already, the way it rolls off their tongue.)
• walking down the street with Mabel on a Sunday morning and having a whole bunch of buff, well-built Frenchmen jog past and smile at us. 
• being called "mademoiselle"! 
• authentic. French. Food. (That makes you hear angelic choirs with every bite. I'm not kidding.)

Ah, so typical and clichéd, I know, to become some obsessed Francophile after a few days in Paris. But, in my defense, it was my entire experience there that I fell in love with - not to mention experiences with   lovely people from the nation as well - not just because "the Eiffel Tower is pretty" (although it is), or because "French sounds cool" (although it does - but I personally think 'beautiful' is a better way to describe the language). Also, I know people who have been to Paris and said everyone there was snobby and stuck-up, and that the Eiffel Tower was nothing but a heap of rusting metal. It all boils down to perspective and the individual experience, which will vary from person to person.

But that's beside the point. People ask if Paris lived up to my expectations. It did, but then again, no amount of expectation could have prepared me for actually being there, breathing in Parisian air and soaking in the sights. Paris was as beautiful and elegant as I imagined, but not only that. It was double-decker trains passing by artistically graffiti-ed walls, street dancers / b-boys on every corner, and con artists trying to make a quick buck shuffling cups around atop cardboard boxes.

The reason I love traveling so much is because it teaches me so much about life. It teaches me to live freely, without expectations, that change is a constant, and that the more adventurous and courageous I am about the unknown, the more life opens up to me and for me. It teaches me that s**t happens, like getting pick-pocketed on my first day in Paris, but that I can still have a good time anyway. It teaches me that the people I choose to travel with, not just to specific destinations but on this journey of life, are all-important. The people I meet and let into my life shape me just as much as the experiences I have, if not more. (As lovely as Paris was, it would have been nothing without the company I had.)

As wise travelers put it:

“A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles.” – Tim Cahill

“I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” – Mark Twain

Life is beautiful

Being home has been, to say the least, hardly as great as I expected it to be, and while part of it is due to the fact that I probably saw it through rose-tinted glasses back in the UK, another big part of it is that while many things have remained the same, it's not the same place anymore. And I guess, to a large extent, I am not the same person stepping foot in it anymore.

The past two weeks have been weeks of:

being sick thanks to the weather,
eczema flare-ups due to the same,
awkward reunions with friends whom I've realized have changed, just like I have, but in a different direction from me, and knowing that things will never be the same between us again,
packing myself full with activity to 1) distract myself from the fact that old groups of friends are not quite the same anymore, 2) to make the most of this month before I start full-time work, and to 3) make new friends - which is a good thing, but which leads to...
being extremely tireddd and not catching up on sleep properly,
narrowly avoiding altercations with the parents over how they seem not to have realised that I'm a year older since I last saw them,
missing people who have been an important part of my life for the past year, and
a really stupid minor accident which will cost major bucks...

...just to name a few things.

But in spite of all that, life is still good. If there's anything that my time in the UK has taught me, it's that life can throw all sorts of things your way but you can still choose to be happy.

This morning, even though I'd dearly have loved to sleep in, I got out of bed, made myself an iced coffee, played some India.Arie, and closed my eyes and imagined the beautiful city of Paris in my head. And my heart smiled. Because what I've learned from long cold nights in the UK is that I can make it through bad days by being where I want to be in my head. Is that the words I choose to listen to and the words I say to myself matter, and matter a lot. And that coffee and good music never fail to make a day better, even if they are only temporary soothers - because they help get me to a place of calm, from which I can get to a place of inner peace and acceptance.

I've learned that crying is always okay when you're alone, and not doing it to get pity, but simply because you have no other way to express your emotions. That just because your problems aren't 'as big as other people's' it doesn't mean they hurt any less.

I've learned that on days people make you sad, it's even more important to make sure you make someone smile, because you'll never know how many people made that someone sad too, and because making someone smile almost inevitably does the same for you too.

I've learned that although on bad days, my first instinct is to run to someone else to fix things, the best person who can love me and make me happy... is me. Because not only do I know what I need, I have the capacity to make the choices to give myself what I need. To choose my thoughts carefully, even though self-destructive ones are always the easiest to entertain.

Finally, I've learned (and am still learning) to take life as it ebbs and flows. That sad days just make the happy ones that much more precious. That bad days pass, but so do good ones. To enjoy the good ones but to remind myself that the bad ones just mean another good one is around the corner. 

La vie est belle. 

As told by a hurricane

“If people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.” -Looking for Alaska

***

If people were rain, I was a hurricane - impossible to ignore, a force to be reckoned with, always on an adventure, never letting anything stand in my way, hurtling through life at top speed, never slowing down for anything or anyone… and he was drizzle.

Like the opposites of two magnets, our differences compelled us towards each other.

I was assertive and opinionated and impulsive and reckless and obsessive and unpredictable and wild. He was accommodating and congenial and gentle and easygoing and balanced and stable and mild. I could never sit still and he could laze in bed all day. I searched for answers, he was content with the questions. I was constantly thinking about what’s next, he lived one moment at a time. I was a big city, bright lights girl, he was a small town, seaside boy.

But don’t get it wrong. That didn’t make me any more of a person or him any less. The depth of a person’s character cannot be measured by its intensity on the surface.

Most people are drawn to the spectacular and exciting; they want something to distract them from the monotony of their own lives. Perhaps that’s why they’re drawn to rainbows and hurricanes; cloudy skies and drizzle are just, well, a little too ordinary.

But for a hurricane, excitement and chaos is the ordinary. He showed me a life that was different from what I had known, a life most people would call ordinary, average, and perhaps even boring. But as someone who had only ever lived life 100,000 miles per second, it was spectacular.

I packed my days with activity, fearing that staying put would kill me with boredom. But around him, it was almost too easy to do nothing. I don’t remember how the hours passed but I know hours felt like minutes doing nothing with him.

Plan b. @ Bangsar Village I

The following is not a sponsored review.

I am a breakfast / brunch person. There's something about a warm, hearty meal and a fresh cup of coffee that makes it worth rolling out of bed in the morning for. Hence, I never turn down an invitation for breakfast, especially when it's a place I've never tried before.

Was introduced to Plan b. in the old Bangsar Village shopping complex by (again, unsurprisingly) fellow foodie and coffee lover @leviasher (who somehow knows where all the good hang out spots are). Barely open for a year, the place has already gathered much buzz among locals and on food blogs.

The rustic, eclectic interior design and interesting lighting pieces lend a very artsy, alternative vibe to the café unlike other cafés I've come across in KL. (With places like The Bee and Plan b., I don't know why I'll ever have a reason to visit Starbucks, Coffee Bean, or the like ever again!)

And their coffee? Definitely coffee worth waking up for. I'm an iced long black person, because I like my coffee like I like my life - strong, intense and simple, and because I can't imagine drinking a hot drink in this sweltering heat. My breakfast partner, however, is a hot coffee person, which worked out well because an iced long black doesn't make a very interesting photography subject. :P

Breakfast for me was a hugeeee turkey ham and rocket omelette with toast and for him, eggs benedict.

My omelette was soft, fluffy, and wayy filling - so much so that it lasted me all the way through dinner without so much as the slightest tummy growl.

Forgot to take down prices (because I'm that good a food blogger :P) but it's more or less the same price range as most coffeehouses around - RM15-20 for brunch and RM6-8 for coffee.

In a nutshell, yet another inspiring place to chill out and enjoy good coffee. Starbucks, it has been a long relationship and I've stayed faithful to you all these years, but I'm sorry, it's time for me to move on.

Opening hours: 8AM - 12 midnight daily

Check out Plan b. on Facebook!

Leave tonight, or live and die this way

Every time I listen to ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman (introduced by Mabel) I get really sad.

I’ve had the privilege of never really fitting in anywhere (although it’s only recently that I’ve come to see it as a privilege) because it’s allowed me to discover life on my own terms, to find out who I am without really letting my surroundings define me.

Having been home schooled in an American curriculum, speaking English as a first language, and being a Malaysian Chinese who can barely speak Malay or Chinese, I’ve always felt too ‘Westernized’. I never felt more Asian and foreign in my life, however, when I lived in the UK for a year.

But never really identifying with the culture and interests of people around me has freed me to sort of define my own culture and interests, drawing from that of those around me, but not just limiting myself to it. I’ve never felt the need to keep up with what everyone else is listening to, watching, wearing, or doing. I wouldn’t completely get it anyway, since I was never completely a part of any culture of the places I’ve lived in. That was just the way it was.

I got to define my life. I got to choose my interests and discover my passions without my culture telling me what those interests and passions should be.

When I listen to that song, though, I get really sad, because I look around me and see people everywhere who didn’t have that opportunity. People who have probably only lived their lives one way - the way everyone else around them does, or the way someone told them was ‘right’ - and never stopped to think if there was any other way to live it. People who have never questioned their value system and stopped to think about what makes them really happy.

The way I see it, most people’s definition of happiness is security. When people have what they believe will provide them security - be it wealth, possessions, property, or marriage - they call that happiness. But the deep-down happiness that comes from realising “This makes me feel alive” - I wonder if many people know that kind of happiness.

Because if you’ve only ever lived your life one way, then to explore, to court the possibility of change, which is essential to discovering who you are and what you really want out of life - it’s scary. So many people just follow the status quo and live scared. They live the way they’ve always lived, and while yes, they may avoid the risk of change and the dreadfulness of uncertainty and the anguish of doubting everything you’ve ever believed in - they will never discover how beautiful and magnificent and worth living and risking everything for this journey we call life is. They will never know how much life had to offer them if they were willing to reach out and grab it. They will never know the privilege of owning themselves and their decisions and of shaping a life they can call their own.

We all know people like that. People who can have entire conversations centered solely around what they bought or how they spent their weekend getting wasted. People who go to reunions just to show everyone else how much they have ‘progressed’. People who never have enough and always have something to complain about, but don’t want to do anything to change any of it. People who can say they are bored with life when they’ve only ever lived it one way.

Seeing people like that makes me so sad. Like a literal aching in my heart kind of sad.

“Leave tonight or live and die this way” - this is the reason motion is so important to me. Because whether it’s running or traveling or learning new things, moving forward means change - a change in my scenery, a change in the way I see things, a change in my ability, a change in the way I see myself.

I live for motion - it’s the reason I hardly have any branded clothes in my wardrobe and lived for years with a black and white cellphone - because I’d rather spend my money on travel than on things. It’s the reason I woke up at 7AM this morning to run even in this ridiculous heat. It’s the reason I always want to learn new skills even if I’ll never master them, whether it’s C-walking or making macaroons or video editing or playing the guitar and why I am drawn to controversial authors like Donald Miller and Malcolm Gladwell and why I’m taking a French audio course.

Because I never want to stay stagnant. I never want to stop growing and discovering and learning new things. I never want to become someone so unimaginative that I have the audacity to call life boring, or someone so jaded that I think I’ve seen it all. How can I possibly see all there is to see, or experience all life has to offer? Every day is a new day, and if I’m constantly changing, then even the sunset must look different every single day.

“Leave tonight or live and die this way.”

I didn’t want to leave Malaysia. If not for my parents and the fact that it would almost seem ungrateful to not accept the amazing opportunity that was given me, I didn’t want to leave. I would have rather stayed and stuck to the status quo. It was safe and appealing. Even abroad, if I had the choice to hop on a plane and come home, many times, I would have. But I don’t regret it. I’m glad I left, to see a new world.

And I’m glad I left that world, to come back and see this one with new eyes.

And even though I hate goodbyes more than anything else in the world, I’m going to keep leaving. Because leaving one place or one chapter just means moving forward to a new one. It means change. Means new lessons to learn. Means new memories to be made. Means new ways of understanding myself and this life I have to live.

So goodbye yesterday, and thank you for all you’ve taught me. But I’m not going to die the same person I was when I knew you. I’m moving forward, today.

"I think it happens to everyone as they grow up. You find out who you are and what you want, and then you realize that people you've known forever don't see things the way you do. And so you keep the wonderful memories, but find yourself moving on." —Nicholas Sparks

Brunch @ The Bee, Jaya One

The following is not a sponsored review.

One of the very first things that was in order after returning from the UK was of course, catch-up sessions with friends and good food. This of course, called for a venue providing not just tasty grub but also the perfect ambience for chilling out over lengthy conversations.

Thanks to @leviasher, I found just the place for such occasions - The Bee @ Jaya One, PJ.

Over a Caffe Mocha (RM8) and a Huevos Rancheros Wrap (RM17, including coffee / tea), I spent at least four hours catching up with childhood friends (two of whom I've literally known all my life and who were back from various places for the summer), talking everything from politics (according to a Swedish friend / kindred spirit, all Malaysians talk about is politics) to of course, laments of relationships and singlehood.

After 8 months in a predominantly tea-drinking nation (I'm sorry, but heavily sugared and artificially flavoured Starbucks is not coffee, my dear friends), it was so good to taste a proper cuppa, especially for a coffee aficionado like yours truly.

The Mexican-style wrap was filled with beef bacon, Mexican Rancheros beans, house-cured jalapeño chillies, fried egg, and melted cheese with parmesan, and served with sage potato hash on the side. The portion was just nice for me - not too much or too little, and the wrap was loaded with flavour but not too greasy.

We also indulged in a house special, Churros with Dolce le Leche (RM9), Spanish donut-like pastry served with extra thick caramel. The churros were slightly more crispy than previous ones I had tried elsewhere, and I would have preferred them slightly softer, but they went well with the caramel.

Service is fast and friendly, and the interior deco is artsy and creative - perfect for whiling away a lazy day with a bunch of good friends or even for catching up on work; nothing motivates quite like an inspiring working environment! And if this catch-up was anything to go by, then it will probably be the first of many more such sessions. So, I'll see you at The Bee soon!

Check out The Bee's website, like them on Facebook, or follow them on Twitter.