a few loose ends before flying off to sushi-land

One more week to Japan, and I'm scrambling to get as much work done before I leave - which explains my absence from this blog. From year-end projects at work to editing Neverland (yes, again) and planning for the next novel, Before I Remember You, to preparing a script for the Singapore Writers Festival panel (you know, just a brief outline of what I'm planning to say so I don't seem like an utter fool up on stage), I'm swamped!!

In the meantime, here's something that's been keeping me busy at work: ZALORA Community!

After a whole year of planning and writing and executing (back-end is waaaay more complicated than you'd think), after months of soliciting help from service providers and the IT team and coordinating with everyone in all the eight countries ZALORA is present in, after all the frustrating glitches and back-and-forth emails, this baby is finally born and ready to roll!

Not sure if I've explained it before, but Community basically a fashion/beauty/lifestyle/entertainment content site curated by in-house content managers at ZALORA (including me - I oversee all eight countries but I mainly handle the Singapore site). It's called Community because the content comes from a community of writers, in-house and external - bloggers, freelancers, anyone with the passion for trends and the ability to write a grammatically-sound and engaging article.

I'm super excited to grow this site, so if you're keen on contributing, send us your samples (all instructions can be found in the Our Contributors tab) and we'll take it from there!

Meanwhile, Neverland is calling. Will I ever be free of that magical place? Do I even want to be free of it? I want to live there! (And so does my critique partner - hi, Jenna! If I haven't said this already, I love my crit partner.)

Okay, back to the fourth round of edits for Neverland! And hopefully by the time I get back from Japan, I'll be ready to start writing Before I Remember You - just in time for NaNoWriMo!

Have a great evening, everyone! :0)

So that's it. I've just told my editor I'm not staying.

My friends think I'm stupid for doing that, since it's my first job and they think I should suck it up and stick it out.

I did agonise about leaving for weeks, wondering if I should really take up my editor's offer to extend my contract for three more months before deciding. It's not a bad job, and the hours are forgiving (10am to 7pm, which gives me time to swim in the morning). My editor isn't an unreasonable boss, either, just occasionally frustrated when I make the same mistakes.

But the environment is, dare I say it, sterile, and the workload heavy and never-ending. I barely have time for water cooler breaks, much less lunch. If I take time out to eat, I'd never be able to finish my work on time and I'd have to stay on longer in the office. I don't want to be one of those people who stay in the office the entire day and go home just to sleep. Even if it's my first job and I need to pay my dues, this is not how I want to live. I'm in my twenties!

My dad told me to ask myself what I really REALLY want. To be happy at a job, or to to do well at a job but come home tired and stressed out every day. He asked me if I head to work with a sense of dread every day, and I realise that the good mood I start out with at the start of the day (I hum, I prance, and I just made myself sound like an idiot) is slowly but surely chipped away at by the end of the day.

Some days, just when I feel like I am in control of my work and can actually do this, I'm tossed a new assignment that I have no idea how to tackle. And with concurrent assignments I feel like I can't keep track of everything that needs to be done or covered; there's always something I forget or miss out, and that's the case for every assignment I've had so far. There's only so many mistakes you can make before you majorly piss someone off, and I know no matter how hard I try I will make more mistakes because I can't multitask THAT well.

Anyway, the bottomline is, I don't know what I want yet in terms of a full-time career (well, I do, but the one I have in mind isn't practical - according to my dad, it's just a HOBBY), but I know what I don't want. I'm not a journalist, never have been - I'm not curious, I don't probe, I'm not meticulous, I couldn't care less about details. I just like to write. I don't know where my love for writing (fiction) will take me, but I know that journalism is not something I want to do for long. It'll only be a matter of time before I leave.

On an unrelated note, it's been raining non-stop since 1am last night, which means it's been raining for 12 hours straight. I've been waiting since 8am to go for a swim, which means I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR FIVE WHOLE HOURS. I am soooo restless it's killing me! I tried pacing, I tried lifting weights, I tried dancing (or in my case, just jiggling about like an idiot), but nothing seems to work. I NEED TO SWIM. This need is gnawing away at my insides; I feel so trapped. Yes, I'm crazy, but this shouldn't come as news to you.

I'm trying to write (at page 234 of FIFTEEN MINUTES now), but I just get so distracted. If only I could swim.

I could get used to this

It's my third day as an intern at Cosmopolitan Singapore, and I've pretty much figured out my daily routine.

5.30am: Wake up
6am: Travel to the swimming complex
6.30am: Swim
7.30am: Travel home
8am: Prepare to go to work
8.30am: Set off for the office
9am - 6pm: Work
6.30pm: Reach home
7pm: Dinner
10pm: Lights out

I know. It's the control freak in me. I need routine, I need structure, I need control. That feeling of letting go and cutting yourself some slack? Freaks me out. As long as I have a standard daily schedule, which involves (most importantly) my morning swim, I'm a happy girl ready to take on whatever faces me at work.

And work. Here we are, at last, one foot in the industry I've wanted to be a part of since I was 17 and was advised to start thinking about my future. And Cosmopolitan is one of my favourite magazines - along with Glamour and CLEO - so where better to work than here?

Day One of my internship was almost crushingly dull, since I was just expected to read past issues of the magazine as well as the Cosmo blog to familiarise myself with the writing style. But since I'm a regular reader of the magazine and the blog, I found myself re-reading old articles. Which was fine, I suppose, since I can't expect much of my first day. I'd just been building up all this anticipation in me. There are two other interns - W, who's been around for three weeks, and S, who started a day before me - as well as a new beauty writer C, who started a day before me too. Good thing I'm not the only newbie around because in this environment full of smart and beautiful go-getting women, it can seem a little daunting at times.

Day Two got better, since I was tasked to write the Cosmo Weekend Guide, a weekly section on the Cosmo blog that recommends places to eat, drink and play for the weekend. I was given a quick tutorial on editorials, advertorials and advertisements, too, and gained access to the interns' shared email, which I studied to understand the sort of events Cosmo gets invited to and the products she has access to and is asked to write about. There are hair product launches, wine and food tastings, Kenzo perfume testings, clothe-sourcings (for the fashion interns - sadly, I can't go along since I'm an editorial intern), and on and on. The fashion interns are out every afternoon to go sourcing for clothings that fit a theme the fashion editor sets. Then they come back (with bags and bags of borrowed clothings) and review the clothings, look for images of celebrities wearing a certain trend.

Since Cosmo's office is shared with other Singapore Press Holdings magazines like Harper's Bazaar, CLEO, Shape, and the like, I get to experience not just what it's like in Cosmo, but also these other magazines. Yeah, no earth-shattering revelations, since everyone's just busy at work in their cubby-holes, but I can hear the conversations amongst Harper's Bazaar writers (HB is right next to Cosmo), and boy are they an energetic bunch.

Tomorrow, I have to attend a hair product launch at Swissotel the Stamford at 10am, in place of the editorial assistant. I know this industry isn't all glitz and glamour - I mean, sure, they get beauty product samples and go for tastings and meet pretty people occasionally, but some of them work long hours and are always rushing everywhere for this event and that and sometimes have to eat lunch at their desks - but this is what I've always wanted (apart, of course, from being a full-time author) and this is what I signed up for, so I'd just like to say: this is the start of something good.

In other news, I've met up with my editor, Geraldine, who's going to work with me on my manuscript LAMBS FOR DINNER all the way till publication in December. It's planned to hit the shelves in January next year, if all goes well. I'll post more details about it as we go along! And a big thank you to those who've messaged me regarding this! I appreciate your support. Basically, for now, what might change is the title, since Geraldine thought the link between the story and the title is a little tenuous. I just need to clean up my manuscript and submit the draft by the end of this month, then send it to Straits Times Press for further editing. Given my packed schedule now, though, with driving lessons and the tuition lessons I'm giving on weekends, I can only squeeze in pockets of time for editing while I'm on the bus home or to and from the pool. Still, I can't complain. This is everything I've ever wanted.

Yesterday and today morning, I went for my morning swim earlier than I've ever been. I used to swim at 8am, but because of work I have to swim earlier (I don't like swimming in the evenings because the water's too warm for comfort and because the pool is packed). And between 6.30am and 7.30am, that's when day breaks. I start out when the stars are still hanging in the sky, and I can still see the full moon and Venus, the morning star, and Mercury, steady and constant - and by the time I'm done with my 40 laps, the sky is a gentle shade of pink and orange. The air is cool and crisp, and it's simple beautiful moments like these that make me so thankful I can enjoy all this.

Like I said, give me my morning swim and I'm a happy girl.

It's taken me a while, but I have finally figured out what I want most in terms of a career.

Well, okay, maybe not the ultimate MOST. My dream job is still a full-time novelist, but if I can't have that then the next best job is a magazine columnist.

It was something I've considered since junior college, but right then it was still a dream I didn't dare to expand on. Besides, I was too hellbent on writing fiction for a living. Yeah, I was living in a world of my own then. But with graduation looming and the pressure to FIND A JOB ALREADY, I've had to consider other options. A lot of those I could care a lot less about. It seems I'm either obsessed with something or I can't give a shit. Probably not the best attitude to have, but it is what it is.

But this is what I really want. A magazine columnist at CLEO, or Cosmopolitan. Attending events, reviewing beauty products, keeping up with fashion trends, networking, and then writing about them. Having a life, and writing about it.

It's still kinda rose-tinted at the moment. I know the job and industry aren't all glitz and glam, but I do know that I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get a foot in the doorway. And then whatever else it takes to secure the job. THE job. The one I've set my sight on, after a long time of consideration and procrastination.

To say that I screwed up my internship interview last Friday is probably an understatement. I felt like such a socially inept, fumbling CHILD, even though my interviewer was only two years older than me. Her businesslike manner only made me even more nervous. I felt like a desperate, grovelling kid wanting in on the In Crowd in high school. Not cool.

Just let me get this. It's all I ever want.

Okay, a list of updates. (It's the easiest way I know to get everything out without sounding like a garbled, incoherent moron.)

1. I showed dad the Jensen Ackles 'Eye of the Tiger' clip on YouTube, and he was surprisingly equally amused by it.

2. My poor legs are dead, thanks to standing from 8am to 10pm yesterday at Isetan Private Sales. All I'm saying is, if they don't give me a sitting job next time, I'm not working for their private sales. I was at the main entrance collecting and handing out in-house plastic bags to the customers, and let me tell you, I have never stood so long in my life. It's agony. I had to go hide in the Ladies to rest my poor ankles and heels (the bones hurt!) and the backs of my thighs. And that lovely Yiling was at the HSBC voucher redemption counter, helping customers exchange their payments for vouchers. So SHE gets to sit all day. The injustice of it all. Saw Shiqing, Shixuan, Tham YL, Xinyi and Wan Ting (from SA), and Yenleng. Apart from Wan Ting, the rest were working.

3. I just printed out Lilies and just about went insane from all the mistakes I spotted. It's supposed to be the friggin edited version, which means it should be clear of all typos (and that's not even the worst mistake) and grammatical errors and spelling errors and weird clunky sentences! And the worst thing is, I sent that copy to Michelle Andelman. I just hope she'll be keen on representing me after seeing all those horrifying mistakes. *CRINGE MAJOR*

That's all for now. One more point just slipped from my mind. See, that's why I have to come up with a list, so I can get everything quickly. Not that it worked, apparently.

After a day of working at the designer department of Robinsons (Centrepoint), I've decided to quit.

I'm not spoilt (unlike what my dad said). It's just, I can't do it, all right? I can't stand standing for seven hours straight, doing absolutely nothing apart from arranging clothes and steam-ironing them (and that's the only cool bit, learning how to use a steam-iron for the first time) and behaving so ingratiatingly to the uppity customers who expect the world just because they are able to pay a couple of hundreds for a dress. Um, no thank you. I don't have to serve you, sweetheart, so I didn't. I just hung about between the racks, making sure the clothes were arranged from the smallest to the largest size, and occasionally text-messaging even though that wasn't allowed. I'm not gunning for the Employee of the Year, anyway, so.

Right, so once again, I'm jobless. It wouldn't be such a problem if my story (short or novel-length) proposals worked out. But as it is, they haven't. So right now, I'm unemployed and broke. Okay, not broke, since I still have my allowance and savings... Wait, did that just make me sound a teensy bit spoilt? Nah.

The weather's quite a bummer. I mean, I LOVE RAIN, don't get me wrong. It's one of Nature's true beauty, but I can only appreciate it after I've gone for my swim. I need to swim!!!! I need to feel the cool water on my skin, hear my regulated breathing, feel the thumping of my heart muffled under the water. I am aching for it, aching to swim.

I had a crying fit again on Friday night. Just thinking about, you know, our purpose on this earth. It's all so meaningless it's enough to depress anyone. Because if you think about it, why exactly are we here? Maybe we don't really have a purpose. Maybe we have as much reason to be on this earth as ants do, or birds. Them birds that go around looking for food and staying away from predators and keeping competitors at bay. Maybe we think we have a reason to be alive - to leave behind a legacy, perhaps, or make the world a better place - but our lives, like everything else, are transient. We stay on this earth for, say, 80 or so years (maybe less?) and then die, just like everything else. Whatever legacy we leave behind - however great - will be forgotten or our achievements will have their importance diminished. For all that we've done, the next generation will probably come along and screw everything up again. We always think we're really smart and just because we're the most evolved, we must lead more meaningful lives than, say, baboons or flamingoes, but do we really? So what if we earn more money? Or can count? Or own a boat and know how to steer it? In death, all are equal, after all. In death, we're all reduced to our vessels, stripped of our secrets, possessions, and worldly connections. What does everything matter? And then it made me sad how detached I was, and how I could actually understand why perfectly sane people went crazy just stewing in their own heads.

There. Don't you feel depressed already?

It's always in the middle of the night that I think about stuff like this. Nighttime always makes me so emotional - not to mention hopelessly cynical. I cried so hard I had to sit up for half an hour to unblock my nose.

It must be PMS...

So it seems I've been caught playing Solitaire one too many times during work. They effin deleted ALL the games from it. Jeez.



Oh well. At least I'm allowed to WRITE. So I can at least bring my notebook and do something productive. Not that playing Solitaire isn't, really. It's total mental exercise. We all need more of that, don't we, especially working on the sales floor, where we need to be as alert and quick to respond as we possibly can? So really, if you think about it, playing Solitaire is good for the employees.



And by the way, I think reading Kellynn's blog is a potentially dangerous pastime that threatens to shatter whatever iota of ego I have left in me. She's a heart-breakingly good writer.

Lately, I've been revisiting my childhood by re-reading the books I read then. I'm re-reading The Doomspell by Cliff McNish, The Prophecy of the Stones by Flavia Bujor (she's French, and only fifteen when she published her book *sighs in envy*), and Island of the Aunts by Eva Ibbotson. See? All children's books. But they're really good: rich in plot with believable, formidable villains and protagonists you just can't help rooting for.

For anyone who loves fantasy stories, you should try The Doomspell. It's the first book of a trilogy, and I SO wanna buy the whole series. I remember I was so hooked onto it the first time I read it when I was 11, that I hid under my bed and immersed myself in it for the entire afternoon. And I remember I read Island of the Aunts when I was 13, by recommendation of Stacy. Ahh, good times.

I have about an hour more before I have to get ready for work. So the interview went well yesterday, to my chagrin. You know, the interview for my admin job with SMRT. But on the bright side (yes, I am surprised there is one), that place is near Bishan MRT, which is rather near the swimming pool. So at least I'll be able to go swimming after work. Well, a glimmer of hope is better than nothing, right?

Later. xx

Thanks to my current job, I'm getting quite good at Solitaire now.

That's ... good news, I suppose, if you can look at it that way.

But there's a bad piece of news. My dad's friend recommended me a temp job, and my dad's all for me going for it. But wait, it's an ADMINISTRATIVE job. Ie, BORING. 8.15 in the morning to 5.45 in the evening. My whole day will practically be GONE. No more free time, no more time to write, no more time to swim, and no more time to YouTube. This is supposed to be my holidays. Can't I at least get a job I'll enjoy doing, and that also allows me to have some free time to do the things I want to do?

There's a reason why I never applied for any admin jobs, hello. But my dad's like, so you're going to laze at home for the rest of your holidays, is that it? Duh, NO. I'll go LOOK for a job, don't get your boxers in a twist. Plus, my dad thinks I should go for it also because it pays well. Look, I'm not one of those pragmatists, all right. I don't work for a job I dislike because the pay is good. And dad was all, oh it's just a temp job, just bear with it. Uh, bear with it FOR WHAT? For less time to write my novels? For less time to swim? For a thousand-odd dollars a month? For being stuck in a stale office five days a week?

SMRT can just not hire me for all I care. I mean, I'm sure the people there are nice and the job may not be as sucky as I'm making it out to be, but this is just really not for me, okay? SO STOP FORCING ME TO TAKE UP THE DAMN JOB!

I'd rather work in the retail line than in an office. At least you get to people-watch, and interact with more people. And you get to work shifts, which offers you some free time, at least.

Sigh. I hate this.

Anyway, on to more upbeat topics. Anoop and Lil Rounds are out! I know I probably shouldn't be so triumphant about that, but frankly, Anoop is a very boring singer (ever notice how every one of the songs he sings sounds alike?), and Lil just needs to stop screaming and start singing. I hope Matt will be out next week, and then Danny, and then Adam will win Idol, and Kris will be second, and Allison third. Allison did well last night, and so did Kris (of course! Not only is he hot, he's a talented singer as well). Adam - duh. He always does well, even when he sang that weird Crawl Through Fire (can't really remember the title, but the song had a Middle Eastern vibe) during COUNTRY week.

I've got 'Kiss the Girl' (you know, from The Little Mermaid) replaying in my head now. Gotta love the Jamaican crustacean! Oh, have I mentioned before how I think Prince Eric is the hottest prince of all Disney princes? ;) And the Beast from Beauty and the Beast ... Wait, I think I've said all this before.

See, blogging makes us such self-indulgent creatures. I have got to get out of my head.

I'm off work tomorrow, by the way.

Not that anyone but me cares.

Why am I even keeping a blog?

Anyone got any good books to recommend? I'm reading One Fifth Avenue by Candace Bushnell (author of Sex and the City, and Lipstick Jungle) currently.

Whatever.

Have a good night.

Tuesday today. In three days time, I'll be waiting to receive my - omfg - A' Level results. Sorry to start off this post with such doom and gloom. Just need to get it out of the way before getting started on the nicer stuff. All I can say is, if I don't get AAB for my H2s, A for my GP and at least pass my H1, I am most certainly screwed.

Alright. Shall stop thinking about it; shall talk about something else. I'm postponing thinking about results until Friday itself.

So for the past couple of weekends, I've been working at the voucher-redemption counter at the Men's Department in Isetan Scotts, opposite Fred Perry (which has now become hotter and hotter to me the more I look at it) and Agnes B (which still hasn't and still looks gay, I'm sorry). I have frigging fallen in love with this bag at Fred Perry. But it's $699. I'm sorry, hot or not, I feel that no bag is worth that much.

For the first week, there was this Hot Holidays Happenings sale, where Isetan vouchers could be redeemed if members used their Isetan Privilege Card. And an additional 10% rebate on every $100 spent on golf items using your HSBC card. It's a promotion for the HSBC Women's Championship, after all. And Jazlyn and I have to help those rich-ass people redeem their vouchers. And let me just say that some of these people are seriously rich. They can spend up to $17,000 on a SINGLE receipt (goodness only knows what they could possibly have bought that amounted to that much), and come back again the next week with more supposed steals.

It can be boring at work, especially because the job is pretty darn easy (just sitting there waiting for people to come redeem their vouchers and recording their receipt numbers, etc), and I've heard the CD repeat itself over and over again. Now, 'Burnin Up' by the ever-annoying JoBros, 'So What' by Pink and (my favourite on the CD) 'Love Story' by Taylor Swift all remind me of work.

At least I have Jazlyn. I swear I have never talked so much to someone in my life. It came to the point where I was almost getting sick of my own voice. Goodness knows how SHE feels. Haha.

So we got past the initial awkwardness and thought, oh what the hell, if we're going to be stuck there with each other for nine days, eleven hours a day, we might as well do the thing we girls know best - talking. I wouldn't call it gossiping, really, because we talk about books and boys and movies and songs and school and prom and JENSEN ACKLES (okay, that comes under boys)...

So now, Jazlyn's the only one who knows the most about all the stories I have ever written. And not only that, she discussed the routes my current story, Bedful of Moonlight, can possibly take. So we spent hours brainstorming and me narrating my story and she listening. If you're reading this, Jazlyn, I just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to you. Thank you for listening to me ramble on about my babies, thank you for asking me so many questions about my characters, thank you for throwing out suggestions and ideas and being frank with me about your view on my stories without being too offensive (it must be a skill). IF I ever get published, you'll be top on my acknowledgements list.

Raining now. Gotta wait till later to swim, so I'm watching my Supernatural Season 3 DVD right now (WHEEE!), marvelling the HOTNESS that is Sam&Dean (but Dean's still hotter, even though Sam has a cute smile).

Oh, and Kris from the Amazing Race is EFFIN HOTNESS. Seriously, they had to load up like super-heavy stuff onto a cart in Romania in yesterday's episode, and I totally got to see those arm muscles, not to mention the shoulder muscles too through that dark blue t-shirt he had on. YUM MAJOR. Amanda (his gf of three years) is one lucky girl. She reminds me of Hayden Panettiere, seriously, all blonde and perky and sunshiney. Very pretty. That might be why they're the team I'm rooting for, apart from Tammy and Victor (even though Victor's a real annoying chauvinist).

And Kris Allen from this season's American Idol got through to the Top 12! Woohoo! Krises of the world rock! Kris is so chill and modest, even though he's pretty darn talented. I mean, who can perform so well with a Michael Jackson song? Some other guy did it and he got voted out. It's not easy, man. And Kris nailed it. My dad also likes Adam Lambert. I'm okay with him, except his stupid punk look. His vocal range is INSANE, but he needs to remove that eyeliner and straighten up his lame-ass hair and stop wearing all that black and leather. He can actually be kinda cute. And Randy, HE DOES NOT HAVE ROBERT PATTINSON IN HIM. Rob's brand of singing is SO UNLIKE Adam's, come on. You're just saying that to get the girls crazy (and they DID go crazy).

Anyway. I've had my nuts for this morning (YUM), and now I'm going back to my Supernatural.

Btw, I'm going to start promoting my stories on this blog. So maybe I should learn from that guy who appeared in the papers the other day, who paid each person $2 - $5 for getting the word out. He's published like 4000 books so far. It's not much, but it's a start. Anyone know anything about all this PR stuff?

But then again, no one will be interested in helping. Just look at the response to my story so far, right?

Whatever. Supernatural now.