Could this be it?
All the messy parts and pieces fitted so nicely together in an emotional conversation with *Gallant last night. I was all practically shouting and semi-drunken, frustrated on the fact that I've been miserable at my current job and not knowing what to do next.
The past few weeks since I've came back from Europe was full of career 'existentialism'. Feeling wrecked and without spirit, and facing each day with reluctance of going to work. Meeting up with friends or talking felt as if a put on as this bad weight was heavy on the back of the mind.
Last week, I've been taken to dinner and offered another job (one I didn't interview for, I must say) by the *Pope.
I really couldn't find anything more perfect than to call him the *Pope! His job offer was of so many promises and miracles it should be a religion in itself. Job scope wise, it is still conferencing but with flexible timing, any choice of topic, CSR, free tickets for students and charities and even a sideline business where money was channeled specifically for community projects. Pay wise, I was to ask for any amount, as long as I gave a profit return of more than 400% my pay, which is not a problem considering I deliver much more for the current company and can ask for a region between $4K and above. Any access of the profits, 30% will be returned. And the small team the *Pope has is made out of the best from the current company - he brought over some of the best sales, operations and production staff.
It really was a relatively uncomfortable dinner for me. As *Lala femme said over sangrias last night, I must be nuts not to take it up. And the *Pope and I have been friends so we were trying to have this business discussion and have some casual conversations as well (that otherwise wouldn't go so well in a business dinner). At one part, we started singing from the Animaniacs because he found an old CD with all the songs. On the other hand, this would mean a wonderful working relationship.
But the *Pope was understanding. Throughout dinner, we've talked about career choices and we talked about our ambition and goals in life. As a child I wanted to write cartoons and sitcoms. As a teenager I wanted to write stories about my oh-too-typical-to-believe Chinese family. As a 16 year old I wanted to be the editor of newspapers or magazines. At university I wanted to be a reporter and journalist. I loved my role as editor-in-chief of NUSSU Publications. I didn't see how these were so intrinsically related until the *Pope managed to get that all out of me, but the end was that he assures me that a job at his company will always be there and I need to go chase my dreams.
The other turning point was with *Lala femme. I did a back track of what I wanted in the future. *Baby Boss (direct manager at work) has retirement plans for a rich life with an ice cream stand on the beach. Conferencing would be perfect for her to go gather money. As for myself, I want to write biographies when I retire.
It is definitely a very strange retirement plan indeed but do hear me out. Just imagine that I, am somehow such a prolific writer in the future. And since it is a retirement plan, I have the luxury to pick & choose anyone I admire to write on. It'd be his or her honour, and mine getting to spend many days laughing over funny incidents, crying over losses and heartaches, feel moved by their stories and passion. And how wonderful that I am able to share the story of these heroes with the world.
This is how I imagine the last 30 years of my life.
The thing is, just what means to that glorious end? And what was pointed out was that there was only 25 years till the dream starts at my turning 50?
So I charted it out with *Gallant last night.
I was to start off with a communications job to get my foot into working with personalities or institutions and getting a little closer to media relations. The communications position at the NUS President's office would be perfect!
Then I'd go back to journalism to gain some exposure and experience writing for masses.
During that period, I'd also be working on my masters in either communication or journalism.
After that, I would want to be worthy of writing social commentaries for Times or Newsweek.
And perhaps by then I'd be better known to write biographies. Would you give me the honour of immortalizing you with my words?
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Twenty Five
Being 25. Acting 29. Feeling 22.
Goodness me!
My blog's right panel says I'm twenty FOUR (!) when I'm already twenty FIVE(!!) for more than 3 months now.
And the worst part is, I couldn't be bothered to rectify the error. You see, I really am not able to pin point an exact age right now.
The point of a vacation was to really mend a broken spirit. It really does seem like you need more than hard-earned money and 3 weeks.
Not all is a lost cause. I do feel as if I've made peace with most of the issues that burden thoughts and create sleepless nights, I still have not resolved the issue of career paths and an affirmative answer for the current employment situation.
If only someone understood how annoying and irritating this is, not knowing specifically what aspect of this "career path" I am supposed to be worried about, so I can plan my way around that, or else, it would just be like being worried about nothing although worry is still there.
And this, is what I will call "career path" existentialism (please feel a scorch of sarcasm at each use of inverted commas).
Goodness me!
My blog's right panel says I'm twenty FOUR (!) when I'm already twenty FIVE(!!) for more than 3 months now.
And the worst part is, I couldn't be bothered to rectify the error. You see, I really am not able to pin point an exact age right now.
The point of a vacation was to really mend a broken spirit. It really does seem like you need more than hard-earned money and 3 weeks.
Not all is a lost cause. I do feel as if I've made peace with most of the issues that burden thoughts and create sleepless nights, I still have not resolved the issue of career paths and an affirmative answer for the current employment situation.
If only someone understood how annoying and irritating this is, not knowing specifically what aspect of this "career path" I am supposed to be worried about, so I can plan my way around that, or else, it would just be like being worried about nothing although worry is still there.
And this, is what I will call "career path" existentialism (please feel a scorch of sarcasm at each use of inverted commas).
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Back in Singapore
It's a *sticky day in the start of June. That's also how Jumpha Lahiri describes August in her book, the Namesake, also her opening line.
Picked off the book in a book exchange in my last hostel in Rome. *Gallant and I poured over book first liners and debated the significance of first liners from the Dan Browns, Jeffery Archers to the non-recognisable names. The verdict: It is sadly a lost function today. Gone are the oh-too-drama classical "It was the worst of times and best of times" or "Call me Ishmael".
And what else can top Casablanca's "Here's looking at you, kid" for movies?
I miss the cooling European breezes and chills even in sunshine skies already. It's hot here and I do believe I am suffering from my first ever jet lag.
Of course I'll say it is an unbelievable vacation. 3 weeks of cities only known through novels and books. And we've done the dirty, travelling with just enough finances to get us to ally bars and father-son restaurants, take local buses and subways and had to drink whiskey to keep our bodies warm in cold parks.
To summarise the highlights of this trip, I'll say time stopped for me at Paris' Musee Orangerie, to unexpectedly find Monet's waterlilies. And not just canvasses but two huge collections of his masterpiece covering two large oval rooms like wallpaper. This small musee is just right next to the Louvre and has but a tiny collection, often missed as tourists head towards what seems the obvious (ie Louvre).
The other was Rome Trevi Fountains. I loved this piece so much that I begged *Gallant to return again the next day at the crack of dawn to catch it without tourists and was rewarded to see the fountains being just turned on and water gushing out and bringing more life to this piece.
Videos and pictures to come when I've all this sorted out.
The intangible highlight is the cultural experience. Lots of it was good. It wasn't all pretty as Italian's are the most unfriendly, Londoners too busy, Americans are everywhere being too loud, too typical and too self important; and youth is really wasted on sex, alcohol, obesity and short skirts sans underwear, as witnessed in the hostels.
There are exceptions of course and I'm taking my *bite back for European narrow mindedness as well, thinking all Asian tourists are Japanese.
The other intangible is a clearer mind and spirit. A brighter light lit for career progression. And a need to express love with more action than talk.
Friends, I really want to get back to writing. Communicate news, trends and thoughts to masses and groups with passion. Not necessarily through reporting. If you know of anything, do keep me updated! =)
Picked off the book in a book exchange in my last hostel in Rome. *Gallant and I poured over book first liners and debated the significance of first liners from the Dan Browns, Jeffery Archers to the non-recognisable names. The verdict: It is sadly a lost function today. Gone are the oh-too-drama classical "It was the worst of times and best of times" or "Call me Ishmael".
And what else can top Casablanca's "Here's looking at you, kid" for movies?
I miss the cooling European breezes and chills even in sunshine skies already. It's hot here and I do believe I am suffering from my first ever jet lag.
Of course I'll say it is an unbelievable vacation. 3 weeks of cities only known through novels and books. And we've done the dirty, travelling with just enough finances to get us to ally bars and father-son restaurants, take local buses and subways and had to drink whiskey to keep our bodies warm in cold parks.
To summarise the highlights of this trip, I'll say time stopped for me at Paris' Musee Orangerie, to unexpectedly find Monet's waterlilies. And not just canvasses but two huge collections of his masterpiece covering two large oval rooms like wallpaper. This small musee is just right next to the Louvre and has but a tiny collection, often missed as tourists head towards what seems the obvious (ie Louvre).
The other was Rome Trevi Fountains. I loved this piece so much that I begged *Gallant to return again the next day at the crack of dawn to catch it without tourists and was rewarded to see the fountains being just turned on and water gushing out and bringing more life to this piece.
Videos and pictures to come when I've all this sorted out.
The intangible highlight is the cultural experience. Lots of it was good. It wasn't all pretty as Italian's are the most unfriendly, Londoners too busy, Americans are everywhere being too loud, too typical and too self important; and youth is really wasted on sex, alcohol, obesity and short skirts sans underwear, as witnessed in the hostels.
There are exceptions of course and I'm taking my *bite back for European narrow mindedness as well, thinking all Asian tourists are Japanese.
The other intangible is a clearer mind and spirit. A brighter light lit for career progression. And a need to express love with more action than talk.
Friends, I really want to get back to writing. Communicate news, trends and thoughts to masses and groups with passion. Not necessarily through reporting. If you know of anything, do keep me updated! =)
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