Archives for posts with tag: friends

An inordinate amount of time has passed since we left Raffles Junior College and I’ve been nursing the urge to revisit Ghim Moh and Holland Village for a while. I think it’s got a lot to do with having been away in London for the last two years and the indelible quarter-life crisis we’re all facing now.

So we got all nostalgic, pointing out the old food haunts that we ate at every single day when we were 17, mourning the joints that are no longer there. We talked and laughed about climbing school gates, the crazy things we used to do in our container classrooms, exceptionally goofy incidents that have (unfortunately for the perpetuators in question) gone down in history… But beneath it all, I felt a strange pang of sadness I couldn’t quite explain. It’s like a part of our lives that we desperately want to get back, a harkening to simpler days. But we can only look back at it all, in gentle retrospect, as best we can.




Did you hear? We threw them mortar boards up in the air, and we graduated.




Snow, which as usual, London couldn’t deal with. But which my very tropical mom was very thrilled about.

Chinese New Year brought dumplings and crazy costumes to Raymont Hall. And Candice to London.

Back to St. Gallen for the first time in five years. And Zurich provided some much-needed sunny days.

Some sunny respite: The calm before the essaywriting storm.

Essays x 5, Redbull cans x 90, Readings x ∞, Life x 0

Back to sunny Singers for the World Cup (damn Paul) and Super Junior fangirling!

One more month with my nearest and dearest, with the shadow of the dissertation never far behind.

Back to London for dissertation hell. May in a repeat, with a non-existent supervisor (not my fault) and extremely last-minute cramming (entirely my fault).

Farewells, birthdays, farewells.

Goodbye London, Bonjour Montreal! This was easily the best decision I made all year.

Three weeks in Montreal became two months (the second-best decision I made all year). And we went to the concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

Christmas back in London. No crazy cooking sesh or even crazier boxing day sales this time; just good company and lots of Home Alone guffaws.


It’s been a good ride.
I’m ready for 2011.

Bonne année à toi!




I guess Korean dinners and warm cups of peppermint latte make us more than a little loopy.





Je t’adore.
Est trop Amo ut invenio. I really loved as I found; found all of you.

I will never forget you.




Last weekend in Quebec City was a slip and slide affair; at least for me, with my traction-less boots. They don’t seem to religiously load the streets with an obscene amount of rock salt like they do in Montreal. In any case, I didn’t have to attract unwanted attention with my numerous near-falls; people there just stared as if they never saw an Asian in their lives. Sure way to score a gasp-and-point moment in QC? Put four Asians and one Egyptian together, and go forth in faith.






So I played the young padawan for the day and shadowed the Jedi knight of photography – the very amazing M. With my (comparatively) tiny E-P1 and his family of lenses, we set off for the Plateau, hoping to catch as much daylight as we could. While the light issue wasn’t on our side, I think we did pretty okay in the end. That’s probably what I appreciate so much about Montreal: there aren’t a copious number of cathedrals and travel-guide-endorsed museums to scope out, and the beauty really lies in the neighborhoods and the faces on the street, if you just look a little further than the pages of Lonely Planet.

P/S: You should also check out M‘s pictures here. You can thank me later.



I may be 22 flight hours away (and a full 13 hours behind) but you can be sure I’ll be poppin’ some bubbly in the name of your parties!
(Or Grey Goose, depending on what I’ve got in my cubbyhole)

I may not have had it smooth for the most part of this drama-filled life, but I know one thing I’ve got damned right. I’ve got my girls right with me – the ones I trust with my life, the ones who trust me with theirs. And just on that alone, I have got to be the luckiest girl alive.

All my love,









from a spacey hippie, a dangerous Little Sister and errr, a random Belgian Roman we picked up along the way!





There are a great number of things that fascinate urbanites ceaselessly. Apple picking on a full-out sunny day in Rougemont has got to be one of these things. We get to take in these things that city slickers were never fed in an upbringing full of Lego, Nintendo and a steady diet of daily Simpsons episodes. Rubbing an apple fresh off the tree on your shirt and then taking a huge bite straight after has got to be one of the simplest and yet most satisfying things in this little life. It looks like I may just need to move to a place where there are plenty of apple trees for the picking.