Fin

It's been two months since I left Singapore, and it really seems so long ago, so far away. I've settled into my new home well, and am enjoying work and life. Of course I do miss plenty of my old life, but the new one is fitting me quite nicely. With the internet, friends and family aren't that far away, and already people have come to visit, and more are scheduled.

I've tried to blog, but I can never seem to find the right words. I don't remember why I started to blog, but the result was a mixture of catharsis and indulgent navel-gazing. It was me finding the me that was buried from the years spent in a place where I didn't feel like me. It wasn't just the geography, it was the confluence of circumstances and situations.

It was, what it was.

Eight weeks isn't a long time, and yet it's an eternity. I've done so much, more than I ever expected of myself, and uncovered so much more I could do. And that's what it is all about, it's about the challenge, it's about growth, it's about me being the me I thought I was and could be.

Can I ever go back? I can, but I will go back a different person. No, no, it's still me. But it'll be a me with a better sense of me. This blog is me, but not the me I am now. So instead of waiting to find the words that fit, I've come to realise that in all likelihood that no words will ever fit. I have words that fit somewhere else, I don't know where, but it's not here.

Three years to my first post, this blog has run its course.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

Two weeks notice

Yesterday I drove home for the first time without having my maps strategically folded, tabbed, and placed in the front passenger seat. Now that's a milestone achievement!

I'm still learning the ropes here, but everyone has been tremendously helpful and friendly and SPEAKING ENGLISH TO ME ALL THE TIME. My dear colleagues are gems. Of course, the campus has quite a significant expat population so it's not that unusual though nonetheless very appreciated.

One thing I do like about the new workplace despite the 45min commute (door to door) is the company cafeteria. Food is pretty good, with changing menus everyday, a good assortment of hot and cold dishes and sandwiches etc. It's no Google but the subsidised rates mean that I pay about US$1 for a generous portion of delicious nicoise salad. So yummy I had it twice this week. And a glass of soda costs US 15c. Booyah - this beats my usual 80c teh-o peng and S$3.20 yong tau foo! Unfortunately, when I have to work at the other campus (only 30mins away), there's only a public cafe and the prepacked salads cost 5x the price and taste pretty meh.

There are 3 bank holidays next month. Too bad I still haven't quite oriented myself just yet so have no travel plans. Which is an odd contrast to the fact that I'll also have 3 business trips as well. Yikes. Within a month after I arrive I have to take a long haul flight to the southern hemisphere. I'm kinda not looking forward to the flight but excited to check out a new continent. Yay!

Okay. It's Friday, and I wanna get outta here!

Settling in

Despite all the pre-move jitters I suffered, the move has been a breeze. It's almost as if I've lived here for ages. The city is gorgeous, the people are lovely, and I feel so much more engaged in life than I used to be.

Of course, there were some hiccups here and there, and I surprised even myself at weathering them without gnashing of teeth and all. This has been a much needed journey, even more than I ever imagined. I'm starting to think that 2 years isn't hardly long enough at all! Ha!

Mujer al borde de un ataque de nervios

Less than 24 hours to go.

I wish this could be easier.

Poor little rich girl

I'm down to my last couple of days in Singapore, and I don't know how I'm going to deal with D-Day itself. There are a lot of things I don't blog about, chief of which deals with family.

家家有本难念的经.

That about sums it up really. I am luckier and more blessed than most, but there are problems, and it is compounded by our utter inability to communicate and confront the problems that face us. Instead we blithely cruise the river of denial, and risk an implosion of epic proportions.

It's hard to be really excited about the move with this weighing so heavily that it threatens to choke the life out of me. I am going because I am a nomad. I am going because being physically elsewhere is the only solution I know of. Reality bites, and I cannot stomach the slow rot that I see before me. It is a rot that we do not acknowledge, but whose presence pervades our lives. It is a rot that no one has the fortitude of character to own and fix. It is a rot that poisons relationships. I can only hope not irretrievably, not irrevocably.

Someday I hope that I can summon the strength to face the rot and banish it far, far away. But not yet.

One day.
Some day.
I shall overcome.

I'm never getting outta here

Just when I thought I'd fixed everything, got my visa, got through enough of a handover, got dates in mind, gave myself almost 2 weeks to focus on personal stuff and the move.

Then I get an email asking me could I please deliver my presentation in person at some meeting in some other country instead of just calling in and doing a web conference.

So a 3hr block of my time has just turned into 3 days. And 12 days of me time is reduced to 9. Minus the bits where I still need to go back to the office to pack my things to ship over. Oh, and not to mention all the bobs where I have to also start working on my new job while I'm here waiting to go over there.

If I have a nervous breakdown, you know why.

You know you're old when...

Roger Rees guest stars in a recent episode of Grey's Anatomy, and you go "Hey that's Robin Colcord from Cheers!" whilst most everybody else squees about his turn as Lord John Marbury in The West Wing.

Oy. VEY.

STRESSBUNNY

There's stress and there's stress. And there's STRESS.

Then there's the slow-escalating OHMYGODWTFAMIDOING freakout that gurgles beneath but totally threatens to explode in a blubbery mess.

Yeah, that.

*gulp

Paralysis

There is so much I want to talk about, but I can't and I don't want to put it down in print. Because despite how frustrating and stressful it all is, I also just want it to pass so that I can move on and leave it all behind me. It's not how I want to do things, but since everything has been wrenched out of my control, then there's little point in hanging onto what is not mine and attempting to make things right.

It's not personal. It's business. At times like these, I am painfully reminded of how much of myself I've buried to make this corporate gig work, how it is antithecal to my nature, and how in my dreams, there is no Fortune 500 company, no jet-setting life, no fancy job title and expense account.

I do not regret the time I have spent back in Singapore, for there are some things one has to do no matter what. Yet in the lead-up to my move, I have caught myself wondering just what kind of person I'd be today had I not returned. I hesitate to think that I've lost seven years of myself, but once every so often, I find myself in moments where everything surrounding me just seems completely wrong. Nor am I so deluded into thinking that there is some mythical place where everything will be just right, I know better.

I do know this. That as I walked the cobblestone streets to my new home last week, as I climbed the winding stairs to my apartment, I caught a glimmer of my dream again. And for the first time in many years, I dared to think of ways to make it come true.

And that, was a wonderful, beautiful feeling.

Then came the sun

The sky was a sleek silvery-grey, the rain went from delicate drops to sloshy sheets. I thought I would be confined indoors for sure, but then the sun peeked through and flirted with the rain.

I bound out in a thrice, and headed to the Sunday market like it was something I've always done. Creating routine where once there was none. And nestled amongst the cabbages and leeks were these gorgeous pallets of purple artichokes.

I wanted so to buy some for lunch. Soon I can, and soon I will.

Sucks mangy dawgs

I've been out sick the past couple of days, and of course in my absence it not only rains and pours - but it's a veritable tsunami that ploughs through. Then of course as I'm standing in the middle of the mess being tasked for creating it, somebody pulls the rug out from beneath me and then 'chirpily' says - oops, hey, sorry for unleashing that tsunami! I didn't mean to! And hey if you can just take this rug and cover everything up - that'd be spiffy!!

WTF

Alien Nation

As I start making concrete preparations for my move, I can't help looking back at where I came from, where I've been, and where I'm headed and beyond. I also couldn't help being reminded of the startling revelation when a friend of mine described me as 'restless'.

I am restless. Even as I stand at the precipice of a major move, I am wondering what next. And next and next and next. After college, I took some time off to work and figure out what I want to do, and ever since, there have been major transitions in my life at two year intervals. Perhaps it's a mark of my restless nature, I don't know. Making a major change is very intoxicating - you don't think you can do it until it's done and then you seek the next high.

With time ticking down, I find myself struggling with the issue of just where I call home. Having wandered the earth since I was a wee bairn, I am torn loving the life of a global nomad, and yet yearning to settle down and call some place home. It's not that I don't want to call Singapore home, I just can't. It's not, never was, never has been, and never likely will be. And as I pottered around the wide wide world of web reading up on relocation and expatriate experiences, I came across sites about third culture kids, and suddenly - everything makes sense. Everything.

Many Third Culture Kids face an identity crisis: they don't know where they come from. It would be typical for a third culture person to say that he or she is from a country but nothing beyond their passport defines it; they usually find it difficult to answer the question.

[T]hird culture kids develop a sense of belonging everywhere and nowhere. Their experiences among different cultures and various relationships makes it difficult for them to have in-depth communication with those who have not experienced similar conditions. While third culture kids usually grow up to be independent and cosmopolitan, they also often struggle with their identity and with the losses they have suffered in each move. - Wikipedia

'[B]elonging everywhere and nowhere,' I could have sworn I've written that exact phrase somewhere in this blog. Like I said, suddenly, everything makes sense. I've struggled to make people understand my disquiet, and it bothered me enough that I seriously contemplated seeing a therapist. After reading the extensive research that has gone into understanding TCKs, it's like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I could actually be NORMAL.

Well, normal being rather relative of course.