Living Out of A Suitcase

I have clocked over 50,000 air miles in the last 5 months.  If only they could be accredited under the same airline loyalty programme, I could well be flying free to Mexico, you know.  

I am not alone in this.  I mean, this is no surprise for a few of my friends and my sister who all work in consultancies.  The difference between me and them - I have been travelling for leisure, life is sweet but I earn peanuts.  Theirs - life is gruelling, bitter sweet but they earn tonnes. 

Their typical week starts before dawn on Monday with a rush to the airport and a flight to wherever their client is based.  They would then spend the majority of the week indoors gorging on minibar snacks and glumly texting their distant lover.   Add 18 hours weekdays plus 6 hours weekends will just about make their week fulfilled.  

For those bright young things out there (and the not-so-young ones) who are always worried that you haven't done enough work, not enough to pay for your mortgages and a decent grub - please - think again and get a life (and some sleep would help too) because any smarties would know working oneself to death in order to keep up and not having any time to enjoy the fruits of one's work isn't really success.  It is merely obsession.  

For the attention-seekers - if you think nobody really cares if you are alive or dead apart from your boss, how about trying to miss a couple of mortgage payments, you will then have the bank looking for you too!   

And for the rest of us who are perfectly normal, let's rejoice and muse with this inspiring quote.  

As for me, after a nice little career break, I am exhilarated to be back on a corporate payroll again!   Yes I am.  

A Quantitative Self

With smartphones and some wonderful apps these days, it is fairly easy to get obsessed, and I am not talking about Candy Crush.  I am talking about Data Crunching.   

Heaps of it.  

Last month, I knew things had got out of hand.  Instead of hitting the town for a friend's birthday, I stayed at home and walked back and forth across my living room hoping the little exercise would make me feel less guilty about the amount of eating-out I have been doing.   It was probably for the best that I didn't go out for dinner and cocktails anyway, because according to the wonderful Account Tracker app that keep stabs on my finances, I am veering dangerously close to busting my monthly budget.  

And don't even go there with the ingenious Drinks Tracker, an app that racks up all the units I drink in a week.  It is making me feel like a really really bad person for pouring a third glass of wine on a Friday night.  I have had a boozy month and the bar chart on my app is alarmingly littered with red exclamation marks.  And so I logged on to Optimism, my Happiness Tracker and downgraded my mood from an eight to a fiver!

Are you lured?  If so, here's a list of useful quantified-self apps for your reference.  I have pretty much been there done that and at the end of the day, I know data does not matter, it is what I mine from it that does.   It is like those TV programmes about obese people when they lay out all the food they have eaten in a week and it really shocks them.  I have hence become more self conscious of what I do, eat and drink, which is very empowering indeed.  

I may have started walking more and eating, drinking, spending less, but frankly, I am ready to ditch my Nike Fuelband for now.  Stop counting and just start living and hopefully, back on jogging (no, I meant blogging) a bit more frequently.  

Your Neighbourhood Gems

Ideally within strolling distance from your front door, it's a bolt hole where the staff know your name, your drink and your favourite seat.   When it closes for a fortnight's holiday, its regulars will soon lament its absence.  

I am referring to a neighbourhood cafe.  One that's open when you need it and one that's worth getting out of bed on a freezing day and draws you in with its warm glow of familiarity.  

You might spot local art on the wall, stacks of magazines to browse and an inviting aroma for you to suck it all in.   The wait staff would have to be pretty laid back but attentive - just the style you like it.   Neighbours might meet here for the first time and become friends over coffee.  It's where a few parents might take her baby on its first outing and where that child will grow up (it is possible).  It's truly a place where a community can come together and fed connected.   

Each visit may seem much the same as another but their accumulation can account for a significant part of our lives. Whether your purpose of going is for conversation, food and drink, to work or just to switch off, the end result is the same - you will feel much better having gone. 

Go explore and visit that cafe at your neighbourhood - the one that you have always wanted to go but never find the time.   For some it may require a short bus ride but going out of your way to get there can make the visit all the more memorable and open your eyes to a whole new neighbourhood.  

And as a coffee lover visiting London, I have been irreparably spoiled rotten with a plethora of choices.  So many cafes scattered around even signage can get interesting.  

A Whimsical Look At Time

What would the world be without time?  I know one thing for sure, we will have one less phobia, as no one will suffer from chronomentro-phobia!

Righto.  The first thing that pops up in my head: many hotel lobbies would look much better I reckon.  Ever notice how all those clocks displaying the time in various cities of the world clutter up spaces?  Who ever reads them?  I suggest they invest in art instead!

Those who love sleeping would love this.  They would very much be using their body's circadian clock.  Imagine sleeping when tired and eating when hungry, not because it's, say, 11pm or lunch hour.   Party until thy want to, not until thy reached thy curfew.   Brilliant isn't it?

And because there will be no clock-in time, employees would arrive and leave at different hours, eliminating rush hour traffic.   Smashing.  

Comes examinations, students would take their own sweet time to answer questions.  I never think it makes much sense to cram everything we have learnt throughout the whole year into a few hours anyway.  

We could also lose ourselves in cyberspace.  No one could measure the amount of time I have been spending on Facebook or Facebook.  No one would never know when anyone would arrive for a dinner party.  Probably going to have to rely on instincts to decide when to serve party food.  

I was just taking TIME OFF for a whimsical look at the possible ways life would be more interesting without say, clocks.   It is TIME to get back to reality.   About TIME to pay that bill and don't forget that tax return!

A Sneeze That Leave Her Cold

Coldness of the world got her to speak her mind about it, but instead of just spitting it out, she sneezes.  For her, it is impossible to sneeze without sounding (and appearing) ridiculous.  

As you grow, your jawline might change, your hair style will change and you can even change the way you hail a taxi but your sneezing style, it stays with you, for life.

The build-up and release of some sneezes is worth a book, I think.  For instance, there are those gentle sneezes that sound like birds, hardly get noticed.  There are some geniuses who seem to be able to swallow their sneezes, an envious style I cannot master.  Then we have the "achoo" variety - almost universal in its impact, something really honest about this and most people readily respond with a "bless you".  

And there's a type called a blast.  It begins with a contorted face, moves on to the shoulders shake and rolling eyes and sometimes, is given greater emphasis by the flapping arms, followed by the outburst.  This, sadly, is the category in which I belong - the kind that will cause bystanders to jump out of their skins and rush into bomb shelters.  

Oh well, I have been frank.  

What about yours? 

Love Life, Not Stuff

What a heavy book to read on a long haul flight.  Not literally heavy like a dictionary, but the attempt to digest one of Nobel Prize winner Albert Camus' philosophical novels was.   

In The Stranger or The Outsider (L’Étranger), I found this interesting line from the book which I felt like sharing,

"You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”

The Carpenters pondered with a song even, did they not?  

"Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near?"  

Well...they just do.  And may be we should stop asking why oh why and just get on with life.  I have obviously caught the bug from Camus. 

Let go of your sadness, give up the fight;  
Follow your madness, and take flight.

I know you are capable of.

Who's My Valentine?

Can't believe Christmas and new year celebrations have come and gone and the fact that I have not been blogging since last year, is just beyond me. 

I chose to write today, not to express how I am a Valentine’s Day acolyte, very much to the contrary, I never get excited about it weeks in advance the way I do with Christmas.  

I believe relationships are healthier when couples are romantic all year round and not just one day of the year.   Shouldn't just glorify romantic love on this day but all kinds of love. 

Sometimes the fact that I haven’t found that special someone yet brings up a fear that I’m not loved.  I do have a date today and have rediscovered a guy who loves me.  He just happens to be my dad.  Worth all the ink isn't it?

No romances with lashings of extravagant meal nor sumptuous fine wine tonight (no sexy talks either).  But love is all around. 



Happy Valentine's Day to all you fine people!  

A Game of Hide and Seek

It was hide and seek: A game we used to play, in which you enjoyed. 

It wasn't hard to understand why because I always let you find me: Our precious memories.  

You are not dead.  Just hiding. 

Life goes on.  And so as our gaming.  

On your birthday, let there be rain. 
so we can feel you once again.

Happy birthday son.

Walk Beside Him

Dear friend,

You have always been a bit chubby, wear a natural glow on your face, generally happy.  We met recently and you have become quite the contrary which prompted my immediate concern.   

"Do you think it is mid-life crisis?" you asked. 

I know if you can still tell jokes, you can't be feeling that bad.  What a relief.

As far as I can understand, you have been trying very hard to wear a couple of hats while juggling with several balls.  From being a responsible employee, a daddy's girl to a supportive wife and a pleasing daughter-in-law - ambitiously aiming to strike a chord all at once.  

Exhausted by the look of things because from what I gathered, you are dissipating your effort on things you can't control.

I say if there’s absolutely nothing you can do to impact the person or the situation, then it is probably best to leave it there.  It's a different story if you have will-power but you don't, right?  

There are so many important things in your life, in this world, that you can affect.  First and foremost - your own well-being is priority number one.  If you are unhappy, how can you expect people around you to be?

In your case, you have to swallow the fact that every family works differently and so when it comes to your husband's family matters, all you can do is to stand by your husband because whether you like it or not, you have chosen him to be your man.  Trust that he knows best and focus on what you can change, where you can have the most impact, make a difference, and let the rest go. 

I remember I once read something from Albert Camus' "The Stranger", which was a recommended read from you and I quote, 

"Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow.  Don't walk behind me, I may not lead.  Just walk beside me and be my friend."

Give that a try.  I certainly hope to be seeing a happier and healthier you next time we meet. 

Thanks Miss Mocha

One thing good about running a cafe is you get to meet strangers from all walks of life and out of the plain ordinary, they can bring colours to yours and sometimes, be able to create self-reflection of our very own.  

There was this customer who came to my cafe last week, she has been here several times, always on her own.  That day, while sipping her usual Mocha, she started telling me about her worry of job security and the danger of losing her income and not being able to pay her bills nor buy the things she enjoys.  And then went on wringing her hands about not being able to find true love and be forever lonely.  

I must have somehow came across as downright friendly for her to dish all that out!  Though I must say, her situation reminded me of someone I know fairly well. 

I can't speak for everyone but I think many of us are wasting time on one common thing - worrying.  We often spend time worrying about unimportant things.  I do. I do get bent out of shape over tiny insults; agonise over silly decisions that won’t matter next week. 

We often spend more time worrying about what we are going to wear, where we want to eat or what we are going to say, than we do enjoying our meals, experiencing what we are doing or having the conversations.

I told the girl, if you are wasting time lamenting over a lack of love, or loss of love, then I am pretty sure you are not spending time paying attention to the people who are already present in her life.

She nodded as if she suddenly got it. 

I told her I have spent a considerable amount of time sitting and ruminating on the nature of my existence and anxiously projecting what could have been.  But I realised just in time, that my time would be much better spent focusing on the work at hand, paying a tad more attention to the people around me, and reveling in the experiences that are happening in this very moment in time - which has proved to have been very rewarding to me.  

To all of us, some planning is necessary, taking action mandatory, but worrying…should REALLY be optional.  

I am grateful to Miss Mocha for giving me that bit of a kind reminder.  Could have treated her that cup, but too bad she insisted paying, left us with a generous tip some more!  

I love my job.     

Terrible Twos, Sweet Sixteen, What Not?

I am looking at the calendar and realised 2012 is ending and it suddenly dawns on me that my friend's daughter will be 3 soon. 

I can still remember how tiny she used to be at birth, cute eyes, little fingers and all of a sudden she has grown to become a little toddler.

People often refer to these precious little 2-year olds - terrible twos, because as I come to understand, they can be quite terrible human beings, horrible at that age.  

I was just joking, no they are not!  I think they are just discovering their personality at this stage.  The bad news is, depending on the personality they are choosing, they can become "Troublesome Three" the following year and remain troublesome for their whole lives!  Kidding again.  

I think calling them terrible twos is just an excuse for parents because each time their kids misbehave, they can just shrug it off and say "Oh Terrible Twos". 

Wouldn't it be great if we adults can have that sort of excuse too.  Say you were fighting with your partner in a restaurant and you turn to the waiter and go "Fussy Thirty-Twos"!

I can never quite understand Sweet Sixteen either.  Not sure many parents would agree their kids are exactly - sweet - at that age.  My 16 was donky years ago but I can't recall anything rebellious in my then existence, but looking at my auntie's son at dinner time, I really think the 16 year old these days should be genetically called:

"Texting-tweeting-no-I-won't-pull-my-ear-plug-out-of-my-iPod-during-dinner-I-hate-you-I-wish-I-was-never-borned-by-the-way-can-I-have-some-cash-cuz-I-have-used-up-my-cash-advances-sixteen". 

The name is a bit long but there you go. 
 

Became Member of the Serving Class

My love affair with coffee began years ago and over time, I must have drank gallons, spent hundreds of minutes waited in lines just for the taste of my love.  

And for the first time in my life, I was standing on the other side of the bar, serving coffee.  Real coffee.

An exhausting job on a busy day as you can imagine, I discovered there is actually something meditative about coffee brewing process that I enjoy almost as much as the coffee itself.  

The rhythm of the grinding of beans, the sound of the running water, the slow-dripping of an espresso shot, the formation of a soothing layer of crema and then the wait - watching the bloom of latte art, smelling the aroma released.  Each step in the ritual helps awaken and calm me. 

I appreciated the easy way my friends and family have taken to the idea of me working in a cafe, and the positive way some greeted the discovery.  

Every sip of my two to four cups of daily coffee has reminded me of the luck, the fate, the fortune of myself having the sheer chance to engage in this leisurely business.  A new chapter of life for me that has so far, widened my horizon, a platform where I have met people from different walks of life over a simple connection of - coffee!

My Latte Art Chronicle

I love my coffee and can't quite do without having a caffeine jab in a day.  Any overdose of almost anything as a rule of thumb, is going to have an adverse effect and the same hold true for coffee drinking.

Consuming 5-6 cups in an afternoon for an entire week, shall just about reach that point of diminishing returns for me.  

What has been happening lately when I have not been blogging is that, I have been practising some latte art - the often enticing, eye-pleasing work of art that sits on top of your lovely Caffe Latte.   I have to admit one can't quite get there without wasting a considerable amount of milk.  And the pouring has taken me - a long time to get past the internal organs stage of latte art.  


Embarrassing as it is, I have decided to share with you a chronicle of my progressing learning curve.   Please note the use of your imagination is a prerequisite in appreciating (some of) the art involved.


Day 1 - 2 : Nothing happened but repeats of this disappointing lump of foam.

Day 3: An attempt to wiggle "something" - I refuse to admit it looks like an insect, so - a bat it is.

Day 4: You messed up, but learned to cover up with some chocolate sauce, just about passed the eyes of the beholders.

Day 5:  This has to be a rose.  Come on, it has to be.  Ok. A wilted rose.

Day 6:  A Rosetta or a fern - Withstood under a strong gust of wind so half of it got blown away. 

Day 7:  A side view of rose petals.  No?  

Day 8:  Christmas came early - can you see Santa Clause smiling at you?

Day 9:  Just when you thought you got a slight hang of things...a bear and an octopus came to haunt you!













Oh well, I can also do a rendition of my small intestine...and yes I can pour a mean pancreas too and my spleen ain't bad either! 


Practice makes perfect they say.  At least I am pulling pretty good shots and steaming useful microfoam on day 10.  Till the next time you meet a horizontally grown Alampy - wish her luck!

What A Brilliant Life

I thought my life is brilliant because...

I tend to wake up when the Sun wakes up and I have no complaints about that.

I have just left a job that was envy to many and soon entering the kind of business, which again is - envy to many.

Lately what goes in my calendar appointments are generally meals instead of meetings.

I thought my life is brilliant because...

What I have in my to-do-list right now, consists of things from watering my sis' plants next door every other day, to registering online for an iPhone 5 daily until they decide to grant me a purchase ticket!
  

My life is brilliant still, with a 2-year old iPhone 4 (iOS 6) by the way.

And someone asked this lady of leisure nicely to be a lecturer.  

Did I hear myself correctly?  I think I did.  

I admire what teachers do, I do.  They all seem to have this fascinating will to make students behave and incent them to learn which, to me, are just beyond plain respectful.  I don't think I can do that, ever.  

Nonetheless, I can probably just about handle being a guest speaker in the form of a stand-up comedian, delivering course materials every now and then.  No problem.  

My life is brilliant not because I have the ability to buy a meal or purchase a commodity but because I have the ability AND opportunity to share my life-long learning with people I care and hopefully make a positive impact.   

I am sure your life is brilliant too, if in doubt, read this to yourself:  The world is your classroom, each day is a lesson and every one you meet is your teacher. 

Brit's Witty Sense of Humour

It's always good to have a bit of a giggle and I feel the Brit's witty sense of humour is the best. 

Here's a little tweet on Twitter earlier: 

"Woman gives birth on London Underground, considers naming the child accordingly. Thankfully the station was Kingsbury and not Elephant and Castle."



Tweets which followed 
(obviously raised by non-Brits): 


How could a woman give birth "on" London if she is underground?

Is the funny part that London is underground? It isn't, right? I mean London isn't, right?

Why would anyone name a kid "Accordingly"?  I don't get it.

I don't get the elephant in the castle part. It just doesn't make sense.

---------

If you are laughing your arse off, welcome on board.

When Love Met Hate in Causeway Bay

When Love met Hate in Causeway Bay,
It was on a normal Sunday.
As each had always gone their own way,
Never crossed at each other till this day.

Love says she wants the day to be a shopping day .
Hate says he is tired and would rather lay.
Love suggests starting off with a nice stroll on the bay.
Hate hesitates but drags his lazy bum out anyway.

Taxi can't enter the area as there are protesters in the way .
Love can't wait, gets off straight away.
Hate chases out, forgets to pay.
Taxi driver goes so mad shouts "Hey".

Queues are everywhere on this very hot day .
You queue for lifts, queue to pay.
Baby little steps from IKEA to SOGO in Causeway Bay,
You wonder how you can wind up in dismay.

How about something to munch Hate says?
Love wants to go crazy shopping foremost she says.
Where's the leisurely stroll, by the way?
Oh yes but you know Victoria Park is hell on a Sunday.

Hate hates it when Love betrays .
Nevermind he takes it easy on this rest day.
At least I get to buy myself a drink if I may?
Sure, grab one for me on the way.

Gucc says no drinks allowed as hate enters the wrong way .
Hate thinks he just saw a main-lander smoking hay?!
Chane staff scans you like an X-ray,
While Louis just have no space for us to land and stay.

It was madness Hate says.
Let's get out of The Lee Gardens if we may.
How about Times Square or Hysan Place, just a short stay?
Hate replies, he's calling it a day.

Fast Food Pairing?

I do try to lead a healthy life, I do.  Occasionally I would climb up the stairs when taking an escalator - it's a form of exercise too, right?

Anyway, there's always temptations around. 

I stumbled upon this ad online and it was from Burger King in the States and I couldn't believe it was for real. 

 
Take a look at what's written underneath the Coke:

"Real full bodied taste with a refreshing bubbly finish, pairs well with a Whopper."

Pairing food with soda and that's so going to class the place up?  You're kidding me.  
 

And look at what Dr. Pepper has to say:

"23 fruity flavors, give it a pop, pairs well with BK Double Stacker."

I say if you are going to have a Double Stacker, you should really be pairing with a doctor!

Hilarious! 

Having said that, in a world where consumers have been conditioned to ignore thousands of marketing messages a day, I have to say, this was a good one.
 

The Party Line

My friends told me I am a great event organiser.  Great is it because it's a job that everyone loathes and I happen to love it? Or because I really am good at it, I wonder. 

I think anything you performed over a hundred times - you are bound to be good at it. Practice makes perfect they say.  

So I have this friend whom I have been organising her birthday parties for the last three years. From guest invitation, taking care of RSVPs, to the logistics and the nitty gritty stuff like how many candles should be placed on the cake!

In 2010 - the year she had her first daughter borned, she requested the birthday party to be a get-away from the baby talks and nappies, strictly "adults only".  Absolutely fine with me and I remembered we had a fun time apart from some who went panicking because they parted with their kids for 2 hours!

In 2011 - a year that was symbolic of mini baby boom among my circle of friends and so we decided to add a line in the invitation that said "We love your kids, bring them with you."  The party went pretty well, apart from the fact that I didn't know kids all love blowing candles and I didn't plan for that many to be blown! 

In 2012 - I made sure I took things into perspective and I think what we are going for this year would be this:

How Much Does A Soul Weigh?

Some believes the body becomes 21 grams lighter at the moment of death, seems to believe that is the weight of the human soul.  Rationally speaking, I don't buy that, but as a marketer, I do buy Din Tai Fung's great use of this idea in their marketing campaign (or the lack of it really).  

Din Tai Fung, for those who don't know, is a famous Taiwanese dumpling chain which has international presence.  The phenomenon of the chain continues to be startling since it was ranked one of the world's top 10 restaurants by The New York Times and more recently awarded one Michelin star in a branch in Hong Kong.

Their food is tasty, no question about that.  What fascinates me, is the art in making those dumplings to precise standards. The dough is rolled to a 6.5cm disc, 16 grams of meat to go in, so that each is to weigh 21 grams and to be wrapped exactly with 18 folds!  No more, no less.  Precisely - that's the soul of the dumpling, the soul of Din Tai Fung, that is there to capture your soul.  

How good is that?

We all have our own ways of eating these delicate dumplings with some ending in disastrous outcomes I am sure - spilled soup or worse, scalded tongues.  

Much to the embarrassment of your dining partner, next time when you are there, take your mini scale out (just kidding)...you might want to pick one up with your chopsticks and examine the broth sloshing inside and go count the number of folds on them before you gobble the parcel (I mean the soul). 

 
 

Cracking The 5 Love Languages

Have you heard of the 5 love languages?  I haven’t in my entire life and until I heard it twice in the last 24 hours and I thought it must have been a hot topic lately, so I went and do some digging.

Apparently, World Peace must have missed out a great deal from not paying attention to the number one New York Times bestselling author Dr. Gary Chapman's book, who encourages the human race to identify, understand and speak their loved one’s primary love language.

It is basically 5 ways of expressing love and everyone has their own love language.  It is deemed vital for us to know what our love language is so that it is easier for others to make us feel loved by them. 

You know what I am thinking?  I think this 5 love languages theory is going to unite the world - which currently has over 6,800 spoken languages spinning around!  Chapman can cut it with 5, isn't that a great saving?

So...I decided to go find out my native tongue and as I am a lazy bum, instead of reading his book, you might like to go where I went for a quick online assessment to see if you and your loved ones belong to the same tribe - http://www.5lovelanguages.com/assessments/love/

And precisely because I am a lazy bum, I shall let the pictures do the talking of what my native tongue is.  

And this has no means of saying I don't like to receive gifts or compliments any more, so keep those coming in please!

Signs, Signs, Everywhere

I am here to say this past month or so, the universe seems to have staged a parade full of bright neon signs, demanding my admiration. I always carry the world of inspirations with me, but rarely does the world speak so loudly.

Lately I see signs, everywhere I go.  And the most amazing thing is - they are always thrown right at your face, made sure you won't miss them (as if you desperately needed reminding).  And who likes to be told what to do anyway?  Especially the bold yet touchy feely ones like these, which I happen to just run across today. 

Funny what they do after you spotted them, is that they will silently creep into your subconscious, work their way into the heart, poke you every now and then with a pulse and a beat, "the best thing one can do in life is to be able to follow your own heart", stating the oblivion of ignoring the obvious.  

Then came the interesting battle between your heart and your conscience:


Heart: What if my life is NOT good and I like it that way?

Conscience: But the time to be happy is now.

Heart: If life is what we make it, then why does sh*t happen?

Conscience: Because life is a sacred journey.

Heart: Only if you follow your bliss.

Conscience: And never get so busy making a living that you forget to make a life.

The Lungs decided to join in the conversation to form a tangent: Good things are going to happen - only if you breathe.

The three of them could have gone on for hours, you get the gist.

I believe when we are true to ourselves and our destiny, the world spins its arms to us.   The universe will also whisper and send us signs we are capable of accepting, embroidered with possible opportunities and directions.  All we have to do is open our heart and listen.


Signs - literally and figuratively, are all around us whether you like it or not.

Hayden's Last Wishes

Do not mourn me in sorrow

but paint me a rainbow.

Shedding a few tears is fine

but do remember me with a smile.

Forget the suffrage in the past

and think only of the joyous part.

Take care of those I leave behind

for they are wondrous, forever mine.

Be comforted to know I couldn't have lived any better

I am very sure we will soon reunite in heaven together.

The Year of Change

I always think I have the best seat possible in the entire office.  I haven't got no window view by the way, and I sit right outside the entrance of the Finance Department. But precisely because of where I sit, I get to see and greet many passerby each day when they go in/out of the department of money matters.  Mind you, it can be very distracting - smelling all that cash flow but can't have no share of any of it - requires a bit of getting used to. 

Anyway...lately, I have noticed the traffic of passerby to the cash vault has increased incredibly.  They all came for one purpose - to settle their last pay cheque with payroll.  I knew because after they came out of the department, many would actually be courteous enough to stop by and tell me it's their last day.  We would exchange handshakes and I would also take that opportunity to tell them when my last day is, keep in touch, etc etc.

Among my circle of friends, I happen to know quite a few who have also recently quit their long-held positions, currently enjoying a career break of some sort.  I have always been a trendsetter in many ways but I can't help but wonder - but a trend of resigning?  What's going on?


It has to be the year 2012.  It has got to be the year of the Dragon spurring all these changes.  2012 is precisely - the year of the dragon. 

The years of Dragons have always been the most auspicious and powerful of the 12 signs of the zodiac they say - one associated with high energy, prosperity, change and mobility. 

I mean just look at 2012 as the world faces crucial presidential elections - in Russia, in France and later in USA.  In fact, I can easily google 40 countries holding presidential elections this year, and when taken together, believe it or not, that's half of the world's GDP holding elections or switching leadership this year!

In my case, after a rather petty, backbiting first 3 quarters of 2012, I am finally in for the ride of my life in this year of change. I can either get ready to rock and roll or, crawl under a rock till it rots. 

Right now, I know in comfort that I am definitely not alone when it comes to facing massive changes, because whatever the future holds, from derring-do, hell-raising to exorbitant fun - nothing against us at all, as we can probably blame the year of the dragon magnifying everything tenfold for us!  

I can only hope you will be in for a ride with me too.  

The Resignation

The letter has been rewritten, rephrased, proof-read, spell-checked. It was then printed, made sure everything was aligned.  

Cross-checked it again before it was signed with with a Mont Blanc Rollerball from the legendary Meisterstuck collection - a pen which seem ever so popular among the managerial rank when I first started working and therefore, I decided I have to get myself one using my first ever pay cheque.  And I did.  No better pen can have that honour to sign that important letter on this very special day! 

Folded the letter so perfectly and placed that into a fitted envelope with care, sealed with a kiss (you wish) and off I went to see my boss smash on dot of the hour. 

He had no idea.  

Like all Brits do, we started off with discussing the weather.  I mean you can never go terribly wrong with that, then we digressed a bit into the regional weather and then went global before we returned to the local, weather again.  Twenty minutes into the hour and we basically covered the whole climatic regime on earth, the unpredictability of weather forecasts nowadays and a couple of other things and that was when I handed him the letter. 

He looked surprised and I wouldn't blame him as we were nonetheless on the calmer side of the weather front the last minute and this minute, we found ourselves in stormy seas.  How predictable was that?  I was also probably the last person in the team who would be susceptible to resigning for that matter.  And practically because I'd imagine myself be rather rusty (the last resignation being merely more than 12 years ago), I thought I needed that 20 minutes or so staging effort, in which the bit on weather forecast came in really handy as a nice little cushion.

The next 20 mins of conversation went exceptionally well, I told my boss why I would like to leave and as far as he's concerned, I have a proper hand-over plan in place, we are good.  And I made sure I keep that door open (just in case I do need to return at some point down the road).

"Actually, all we need now is an email from you to your boss, copying HR.  Then you will be brought to a website and with a press of a button, it's procedurally done."

That was probably when I felt strongly the incredible efficiency working in a high-tech company - where everything is so automatic, systematic, hydromatic!   In one word - cold.

"But since you have that letter printed, might as well let me have a read now!"

"Good letter," he said (probably thanking good lord I haven't a word against him).   Frankly, I have no reason to.  He has been really kind - the kind that is almost too fatherly kind to be your boss, if you know what I mean.  

"You still need to go press that button, then it's all systems go, Bob's your uncle."


After all, I haven't had much experience resigning, the last time I did was donkey years ago and I did have to physically "tender" my resignation with a "physical" letter then. 

I returned to my desk and as I scrolled through that HR site step-by-step, I felt so old-fashioned like a piece of antique.  If I were to redo this, I'd still prefer a proper letter and a face-to-face meeting over an email and a button. No question about that.   

The thing is, whatever means it needed me to take, I finally did it.  Procedurally done.  I HAVE officially resigned. 

Hong Kong's Book Scene

Hong Kong - in terms of bookstores, has so far lagged behind many other Asian cities such as Tokyo, Taipei and even Bangkok.  I am thinking, there just aren't that many bookworms around to warrant them, but may be I was terribly ignorant in making that statement. 

With the arrival of Eslite, a Taiwanese bookstore chain, I decided to go for a stroll in what becomes the largest bookstore in Hong Kong, housing some 100,000 titles and promises to open 24 hours on Thur-Sat for a month's trial. 

As a starter, I was greeted with hordes of people wanting to be the first to scope out Hong Kong's latest bookstore. That was all good and expected but for the main dish, I didn't expect to see readers carrying baskets full of shopping, eagerly trying to sweep through the stationery on offer. It becomes very apparent that Hong Kong REALLY is a paradise for shoppers (not readers).  Will Eslite help cultivate some night owl bookworms in future?  We will soon find out, wouldn't we?

Eslite - famous not only for an extensive collection of books but also in-house art galleries, cultural events, designer products and cafés.  While I was awfully disappointed by the fact that the cafe was still closed and I couldn't try their coffee, I stumbled upon a very interesting exhibition - featuring the prominent Chinese artist XU Bing. 

His latest book "Book from the Ground" is created after spending much time travelling around the world, and with all that time wasted in airports, he began to notice the many symbols surrounding him. He thought it would be interesting to use this minimal way of communicating to create a story book. 

For the next ten minutes, I stood there with admiration and desperation, trying to figure out what this sign means. 

It is with the intention from artist HU Bing, that this can be read and enjoyed by everyone, whether literate or not.

I can't decode this and I am feeling so stupid.

Can you get what he's trying to say here?  I am struggling still.

So there I left the bookstore - pondering whether my inability to read this makes me a literate nor a nonliterate.