MOONSHINE

The moon is possibly the biggest I've ever seen it. It's time for moon shots, for everything you know to be set aside and for steps to be taken outside of the frame of mind of everything that's been done before. If you don't ask extraordinary questions, you cannot know the extraordinary answers. The moon has always been constant, and yet it appears to be so bright tonight. So big and bright.

DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT

So I'm not a dancer, I don't dance but this is now my new favorite dance scene, it's from The Umbrella Academy, which is a series worth watching. This is from episode 6. I want to dance to this choreography with my husband when we get married. It's okay if we're not dancers, we will learn this dance. Also you should prolly watch the scene on Netflix for the quality, the cinematography with all the flickering lights in the park is really quite stunning.

HOLD ME TIGHT

The message of EFT is simple: Forget about learning how to argue better, analyzing your early childhood, making grand romantic gestures, or experimenting with new sexual positions. Instead, recognize and admit that you are emotionally attached to and dependent on your partner in much the same way that a child is on a parent for nurturing, soothing, and protection. Adult attachments may be more reciprocal and less centered on physical contact, but the nature of the emotional bond is the same. EFT focuses on creating and strengthening this emotional bond between partners by identifying and transforming the key moments that foster an adult loving relationship: being open, attuned, and responsive to each other.

Today EFT is revolutionizing couple therapy. Rigorous studies during the past fifteen years have shown that 70 to 75 percent of couples who go through EFT recover from distress and are happy in their relationships. The results appear lasting, even with couples who are at high risk for divorce. EFT has been recognized by the American Psychological Association as an empirically proven form of couple therapy.

There are thousands of EFT-trained therapists in North America and hundreds more in Europe, England, Australia, and New Zealand. EFT is being taught in China, Taiwan, and Korea. More recently, major organizations, including the U.S. and Canadian military and the New York City Fire Department, have sought my help in introducing EFT to distressed members and their partners.

EFT's ever-broadening acceptance and application has also brought growing awareness of this approach to the public. Increasingly, I have been besieged by pleas for a simple, popular version of EFT, one ordinary folks can read and apply on their own. Here it is.

Hold Me Tight is designed to be used by all couples, young, old, married, engaged, cohabiting, happy, distressed, straight, gay; in short, all partners seeking a lifetime of love. It is for women and for men. It is for people from all walks of life and all cultures; everyone on this planet has the same basic need for connection. It is not for people who are in abusive or violent relationships, nor for those with serious addictions or in long-term affairs; such activities undermine the ability to positively engage with partners. In those instances, a therapist is the best resource.

I've divided the book into three parts. Part One answers the age-old question of what love is. It explains how we often slip into disconnection and lose our love, in spite of the best intentions and the greatest insights. It also documents and synthesizes the massive explosion of recent research into close relationships. As Howard Markman of the Center for Marital and Family Studies at the University of Denver says, "This is moon shot time for couple therapy and education."

We are, at last, building a science of intimate relationships. We are mapping out how our conversations and actions reflect our deepest needs and fears and build or tear down our most precious connections with others. This book offers lovers a new world, a new understanding of how to love and love well.

Part Two is the streamlined version of EFT. It presents seven conversations that capture the defining moments in a love relationship, and it instructs you, the reader, on how to shape these moments to create a secure and lasting bond. Case histories and Play and Practice sections in each conversation bring the lessons of EFT alive in your own relationships.

Part Three addresses the power of love. Love has an immense ability to help heal the devastating wounds that life sometimes deals us. Love also enhances our sense of connection to the larger world. Loving responsiveness is the foundation of a truly compassionate, civilized society.

To help you through the book, I've included a glossary of important terms at the end.

I owe the development of EFT to all the couples I've seen over the years, and I make liberal use of their stories, disguising names and details to protect privacy, throughout this book. All stories are composites of many cases and are simplified to reflect the general truths I have learned from the thousands of couples I have seen. They will teach you as they taught me. This book is my attempt to pass that knowledge on.

I started seeing couples in the early 1980s. Twenty-five years later, it amazes me that I still feel passionately excited when I get down in a room to work with a couple. I still get exhilarated when partners suddenly understand one another's heartfelt messages and risk reaching out to each other. Their struggle and determination daily enlightens me and inspires me to keep my own precious connection with others alive.

We all live out the drama of connection and disconnection. Now we can do it with understanding. I hope this book will help you turn your relationship into a glorious adventure. The journey outlined in these passages has been just that for me.

"Love is everything it's cracked up to be..." Erica Jong has written. "It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, your risk is even greater." I couldn't agree more.

I started reading Hold Me Tight by Dr. Sue Johnson today. Your only takeaway from this should be that if you are interested in dating me, whoever you are, you should also be reading it, because from this point on, I will only date anyone who has read this book.

BERHENTI BERHARAP

For some reason, for any number of reasons, today I thought back on my life. I just sat and thought about things that have happened, decisions I have made, memories I have kept and tweaked and deconstructed and reconstructed, whether accurately or otherwise.

When I was nineteen or so, I had my second boyfriend. He was Christian, and he didn't want his rather staunch family to know about me, because they wouldn't have approved that I came from a Muslim family (at the time, I was also a half-assed Muslim believer, although I was never practicing).

I was never really able to talk about him online, or mention him by name, even though we spent pretty much all our time together in school, and he was my best friend in the debates club. I made things very difficult for myself, and very likely for him, and we were on and off for a long time, because even at that time, I was already fond of transcribing my daily life, and sometimes, he would be there in all my ramblings and he wouldn't ask me to take it down, but it almost always strained things between us.

We were happy, though, when we were in love. It was very romantic, and I never doubted that he was true to me, despite the running around in half-secret. It made it all the more precious, I suppose. I don't know if I was his first love, but he was mine. I don't know why I never felt the same with my first boyfriend, I guess you really don't choose who you love, but with this second one, I felt it always. I wasn't the best of debaters, I wasn't consistent, sometimes I would make great impassioned speeches, I liked being the whip speaker, or the last in the team, but it wasn't like I had a formula down pat, it was almost always a fluke.

I remember really admiring this second boyfriend of mine, he was the president of the club when I was vice-president because we studied in the same cohort/class/year. I remember he would be encouraging in debates, when I did well, he would be extremely supportive, and when I didn't do well, he would always give me constructive feedback. He felt like my partner. He is happily married now, and I'm extremely glad and happy for him, although we are not friends anymore, and it no longer affects me, which was a hell of a long time coming.

The thing is, as a person who feels things with almost an acute intensity as I think in tangents, it is near impossible to let go of anything I witness in life. I went and fell for someone I barely knew, and I learned that he used Head and Shoulders shampoo (I still remember it was the almond variation). I asked him what animal he would like to be, and he said an owl, because owls can turn their heads round almost fully, and I was intrigued by this because I didn't know why that was even a factor in wanting to be an animal.

I answered his 3am calls, knowing full well he was not serious and would most likely break my heart. I let him drive me around Malibu, we were scorched in the afternoon heat, then let the breeze run through our hair while I took in the stars in the night sky, knowing it was not going to last. I tend to ask the men I date what they think is a pressing problem in the world, so I asked and he told me religious extremists, which I did not know at the time was such foreshadowing and would become so pertinent in my life, showing itself in large part because of him. When I left, I wrote him a note on an owl postcard.

I got pregnant, and to be honest, even now in my mindset, I don't think it should have been such a big deal. I knew my family wasn't going to take it well, though, so my brain and heart were in turmoil, and true enough, when they eventually found out, even though I had already miscarried, it didn't go down well.

I grew up and am still living in a household that still dictates what clothes I can leave the house in, that still makes comments when I paint my nails. Even though everyone pretty much knows I have a tattoo, I am possibly never going to wear anything that will expose any part of it to them, because it will likely actually break their hearts, metaphorically. When they found out, they retaliated in the weirdest but most passive-aggressive reactions. It was like everything I did upset them, but the tattoo remained unspoken of.

When I was going to New York, both my mom and grandma, who both live in the same apartment as I do now, explicitly said things like not to make the same mistakes and to be a good girl, meaning they expected me not to sleep with men that I am not legally wedded to.

Of course, the easy thing would be to continue doing whatever I wanted to do (which I did) and not speak of it, because that's what a lot of people do. I couldn't and cannot bring myself to do it that way, because apparently I have no gene for self-preservation.

I don't like pretending to live by someone else's rule, because for one, it just sets a precedent that you also believe what they are doing to be right, which I don't, and then you have to set the same example that they set for you, for future generations. I don't like abiding by bigoted rules, nor pretending to do so. It is whacked, the standards they live by and the standards I live by are completely contrasting.

They really inherently, honest-to-goodness believe in an afterlife, and they would rather live in denial, than accept that I don't believe in the same thing, because based on their beliefs, the consequences for a person like me are too unfathomable and thus the fear instilled in them makes it easier to deny the truth. It's been so ingrained.

I think, if not for my family, I would be quite relaxed, and I would be able to have fun and live in the moment (as much as is consistent with my personality -- I mean, I'm not even much of a partier). Living in fear is a thing that bothers me, I don't think fear is a thing that motivates me.

The confusion I went through during my pregnancy and miscarriage, eventually turned into full-blown depression. This affected me intensely and for a very long time, and it got so bad, even on my good days, I wondered whether the emotions I'd felt and the things I'd done, were me, or my depression/mental health. I questioned the extent of my self as opposed to my mental health issues, I didn't know if my happiness was real happiness or the high point in a manic-depressive situation. I didn't know if I would ever be really okay again.

I say all this because I truly believe if I had had the support of a family that was rational and logical, and I wasn't made to feel like premarital sex was a sin, that my having gotten pregnant was a punishment for having gone against a higher power, that the depression from my miscarriage was a premeditated test for my character, the last couple of years would have gone much differently than it did.

I think about my desire to live in the States, and of course there is a lot of.... white noise, I feel as if I might be taking up space there, I don't know if I would be accepted, I ask myself why I can't just take the easy route, and live where I've always lived. And then I think of Hamilton, and the story of US independence. They used to be a British colony, much like most of the world's countries. If they hadn't felt unsettled and restless enough, they would never have pushed to be free.

This is the person I am, the same one who likes and loves random people off the street. The one who makes my exes' current and future girlfriends uncomfortable because I just want to be friends with and understand everyone, and because I want to remain friends with everyone I've dated. The same person who makes my dates feel like they have to compare with previous men because I can't stop rambling about people I used to love in my life.

Today I also even thought, even if seemingly unrelated, about my real dad. Before I left for New York, he asked to meet for dinner and I agreed 'cos I thought it would be good to leave on a good note. He then came for dinner with my youngest siblings, both younger than ten years old, and let me know that he was broke.

The fact that he was broke and that I had to foot the bill for us was not even what really gnawed at me, it was the fact that during dinner, he mentioned Under Armour headphones for working out with and whether I could look out for them while I was in the States. This was at the same dinner that he was too broke to apparently afford. The only reason I didn't mention it anywhere is 'cos I knew my mother would lord it over my head, she used to think that every failure of my father's, is a personal victory for her, even though my very young half-siblings could be affected.

Today I think about how the chosen family members I have made for myself have proven to be more reliable, than some of my own blood relatives. I thought about so much today and my conclusion was: if you want a simple life, don't be Sarah Mei Lyana.

MARTIN SHKRELI

I was watching Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj. Today's episode is about prescription drug pricing in the US. Insulin is priced stateside, roughly the same per unit as LSD and Chanel No. 5 EDP. Big Pharma is pretty much the epitome of rich fucks who have too much money and time and nothing better to do with their lives. Today I learned the term Pharmacy Benefit Manager, or PBM, who are essentially parasites or middlemen who don't actually bring any value to any transaction.

TREMOLO

So my youngest sister found my PSP and I began replaying Loco Roco, which is the most inane game but has the funnest soundtrack and adorable characters. You can switch to even a pink blob.

(i. Yes everything I own is pink and ii. Yes I should be writing, leave me alone!!!)

Also, one of Lyssa's favorite things in life was to watch me play Spyro: Year of the Dragon, and one of my favorite things in life was to play it just for her to watch. That's our all-time favorite game in life.

I decided that to propose to me, someone has to get a Playstation (do they even still make those?) and a Spyro: Year of the Dragon disc and let me complete the game again for Lyssa before I will marry.

MEMORIES OF THE ALHAMBRA:SPOILER ALERT

My sister and I started watching Memories of the Alhambra. It's about an augmented reality game, developed by a young South Korean boy living in Granada, Spain. The game looks and feels amazing and completely life-like and if it actually existed in real life, it would sell out for sure. We were just watching it being played and it was addictive, I can't imagine if we were playing it. The endorphin release pattern must be equally strong if not even stronger. The creator patents the game under his sister's business, that she doesn't know of. The sister runs a small, run-down hostel. One day, an investor is interested in her hostel because he knows about and wants to own the game, and he offers her a time-limited offer of 10 billion Korean won, if she signs within ten minutes. Every ten minutes, the offer goes down by a billion won. She eventually signs and receives the ten billion won, which is 12 million Singapore Dollars. Before the deal, she was maintaining the hostel, she was a tour guide in Granada for Korean tourists, she translated documents between Korean and Spanish, she works at a musical instrument store. After the deal, she's richer by 12 million Singapore Dollars. If someone offered me 12 million SGD, I would barely read the contract. You can have my soul for all I care. I would take the money, buy a visa to migrate to the States, get an apartment, save one million for potential health issues (one in three people will get cancer in their lives -- that could be you, me or a person unrelated to either of us, but then I've got the cancer genes), and then, assuming each person's undergrad and grad studies ran up to 500,000 USD, I would find ten girls from underprivileged communities and give them the money to pursue their studies. I love thinking about ridiculous things like this. There are enough people in the world who are wealthy enough to give away 12 million SGD (9 million USD) like that, it's not even a dream so much as whether you know how to talk to the right people. It's all just a numbers game. Some people love numbers, some people love games.

JEREMY BEARIMY

So Lyssa was watching her all-time fave TV show, The Good Place, that I used to love when it was still being a comedy. She was re-watching the latest episode so far, S3E12, Pandemonium, the one where Chidi has to get his memory erased, and Eleanor would be the only one who remembers their love story. Before they proceed, Michael shows the couple a film reel of all their highlights together so far, and it has me bawling, even though I'd also seen it more than once. After Chidi has his memory erased, Eleanor talks to Janet, who is in summary, a robot who knows everything.

Eleanor: Janet?
Janet: Hi there.
Eleanor: Can you just, you know, like, tell me the answer?
Janet: Sorry?
Eleanor: You know, the answer. To everything. You know all there is to know in the universe. Crunch the numbers. Tell me the answer. What's the point of love if it's just gonna disappear? And how is it worse to not love anybody? There has to be meaning to existence, otherwise the universe is just made of pain and I don't like the thought of that. So, tell me the answer!
Janet: I know how you feel. Back on Earth, I had to watch Jason have no recognition of me. It felt like... right before someone pushes a plunger and murders you.
Eleanor: Sure.
Janet: The more human I become, the less things make sense. But that's part of the fun, right?
Eleanor: What do you mean?
Janet: If there were an answer I could give you to how the universe works, it wouldn't be special. It would just be machinery fulfilling its cosmic design. It would just be a big, dumb food processor. But, since nothing seems to make sense, when you find something or someone that does, it's euphoria. In all of this randomness, in this pandemonium, you and Chidi found each other and you had a life together. Isn't that remarkable?
Eleanor: Pandemonium is from Paradise Lost. Milton called the center of hell "pandemonium", meaning "place of all demons". Chidi tricked me into reading Paradise Lost by telling me Satan was, and I quote, "my type". A big, mean, bald guy with a goatee, I mean, he wasn't wrong.
Janet: Oh no, that's very on-brand for you.
Eleanor: I guess all I can do is embrace the pandemonium. Find happiness in the unique insanity of being here, now.
Janet: We'll do this together. In the words of the man that I love... "I got you, dog."

OH SARAH

How do you tell someone you miss them? How do you say life is short, fuck it, please think of me? How do you express the fact that being calm and cool is breaking you down, in a world that has demonised having feelings as weakness? I'm so tired. I just wish someone would fight as hard as I would. God knows the benchmark would not be set so high if I weren't such a fighter.

AUTONOMY

I'm on day two of my period and as usual, it's uncomfortable enough to keep me awake. This is after I've popped two Advils to avoid the regular excruciating cramps. I'm considering removing my ovaries, more and more, but I'm a little worried my life partner might want kids. I know adoption is an extremely viable option that I'm increasingly inclined towards, and my body is my body is my body and if a man thinks any less of me if I can't have kids then what the fuck am I with such a man for, right? But, I don't know, I've changed my mind about some pretty serious things in life in the past three years, what if one day I really find someone I want to start a family with and actually want my own kids? Jeez. Will there come a time I will value my blood relatives over someone I could adopt? Why do I have to be a woman in this world? Decisions, decisions, decisions.

MR. POOPYBUTTHOLE

Today I was going through my Instagram Story archives and I saw the one of Ben telling me about Grand Central Station while we were there and his voice soothed me and made me smile. If you don't think Valentine's Day has made me miss him to no end, I'm not sure if you really know me.....

B: "my school was actually the basis, one of the three schools that were the basis for..."
S: "Gossip Girl? Oooh!"
B: "yeah.. the people that the characters were heavily based on.. were actual people that I went to school with"

How strange it was that I fell for him. When I was first listening to all of that, I did not know nor realise I would like him so much.

When I was in New York, one of the prompt answers I had on Hinge was Best Travel Story: I went to SpaceX when I dated someone in LA.

Quite a few matches I had that week, responded to that prompt with, "oh damn, that's a cool date to beat", which I find strange.

Maybe it's just the person I am, but I think people need to be nicer to themselves, regardless of their jobs. More often than not, people who hustle hard at their jobs are lacking in some other aspect. And people who have principles I find most admirable may be struggling, just 'cos they've got morals and are trying to work things out in life. It all just boils down to what each person finds important. And working for lots of money makes no sense to me 'cos in a world with homeless people, being a millionaire or anywhere close to it is not a moral outcome. It's all just pishy caca. You are not the company you work for.

SANS SERIF

I keep thinking about how excited Ben was at having found the same exact ramen that he had had in Japan, right in Brooklyn. I had ramen with my cousin when I got back, and the restaurant had a panel of The Great Wave off Kanagawa, a banner of which Ben had in his room, and which I gave him a lapel pin of, from The Met. What does it all mean? It means nothing, but it means all the things. Nothing is absolutely good nor bad, nothing is absolutely meaningful nor meaningless. Nothing is absolutely absolute.

LIGHT

I met my cousin Hazwani last night, and I also had a workout session with Han today. Both times, I told them about Bennett. They separately asked things like, you're okay if he dates someone else? You don't wanna try long distance? I answered internally to myself, no I don't want him to date anyone else, and yes I do want to try long distance. But I'm unable to confirm where my life is going, not for at least a month or so, and it is unfair to expect him to wait on a word I am unsure of, not so soon after we'd just gotten to know each other. Ben did say sometime before I really had to leave, that he did want it to be me, and I do still want it to be him. I tell myself, well if he dates someone else and it works out, then good for him, I will be happy. Yet I will not be dating, I'm finally taking time to myself, to let the rest of my life fall into place. I have gone through this a couple of times before, sometimes you rush things and it still doesn't work out because it was never going to. If he and I don't find a more suitable relationship and neither of us settles for anything less, then que sera, Sarah.

JET LAG

I'm in the living room of my mom's apartment, listening to my sister Aqilah and her boyfriend do their homework. It's so strange how first relationships are, when girls don't yet realise what mansplaining is, or that it's being done to them, and they don't call it out. I don't say it out loud, because I think people should be able to make their own decisions and learn from them but wow, what a learning curve that is. I'm leaving home in a bit to go for a swim with Han, I hope that helps to set my sleep pattern to something that remotely resembles those of the people living in this country. This post is here to serve no real purpose besides giving me something to do to keep myself awake. I miss Ben. Mochi reminds me of Tux.

JAMEELA JAMIL

"....Tell him about sex. Not just reproduction, but sex. The fun, pleasurable part of it. The joy of equal pleasure and enthusiastic consent. Do not shy away from this. Do not make it an awkward topic in your house. Because if you push him into the shadows, he will find Pornhub in there and that will become his teacher. And nobody needs that shit. I believe that learning sex from porn is like learning how to drive from watching The Fast and The Furious, a fucking terrible idea. Tell him about the history of the word no for women and how new it is to our vocabulary, and how if he were to abuse our historical conditioning to bend to the whims of men, it would be the greatest sin and sign of weakness that he could show. And when it comes to sex, tell him technical consent isn't the gold standard. It is just the basic, complete, most bare foundation. And anything less than a woman being enthusiastic about something sexual that is about to happen is a sign that he must stop and talk to her. Tell him that being generous in the bedroom will be reported far and wide among the lands -- because we tell each other everything, and his name shall become legend among us...."

Jameela Jamil is an actual queen. Please watch this speech, I love it and it is very important and very true. A generous man in the bedroom is rare, and therefore very precious. And very cute. Okay bye!

SCOTT PILGRIM VS THE WORLD

In the many twists and turns of my romantic history, I almost feel like I've learned a thing or two from each stage so that I can utilise them for the big boss. Like Scott, some lessons had to be repeated so I would actually learn them properly. Fall would be a great season to love someone I've fallen in love with.

RAISE A GLASS TO FREEDOM(SOMETHING THEY CAN NEVER TAKE AWAY)

Remember the time my mom changed my bike from a fixie to a freewheel, without asking or telling me, because she thought it was safer? So I came back and my sister Aqilah had added a phone-holder, a bottle-holder and I don't know what else to it. I mean, I know I left home but like, it woulda been nice to have been asked about my things. On the plus side, I guess I don't have to spend money on those additions. On the neutral side, I doubt they'll help me not cycle and fall right into a drain. That was 4 years ago and still the trauma lives. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Edit: also my youngest sister Arina left her wallet at home so I just passed it to her at recess so I'm now officially the eldest sister again. Why does anyone have more kids when you're expected to bail them out over and over again? This even includes bailing me out. Sigh.

MOONSHOT

I watched Before Sunrise on the plane. I think it was my third time seeing it. It's one of my favorite romantic films, and all it is, is two strangers talking to each other. That's the best way to fall in love, talking non-stop about things. Also, I'm now in Singapore, but I'll be back where I belong soon enough. In the meantime, hello sun! I can now walk out wearing just one layer, and also flip-flops! Oh how my toes have missed being free. On the way back, I took ANA flights and damn, do the Japanese get food right. It's like somebody told them: airplane fare, but make it fashion.

Also my stopover in Japan is now my one and only time there but I had only one hour in transit. For someone who loves Japanese food, I've never been to Japan, which is a mighty waste. I must go there when I'm earning more, go on a food trail or something. One of my ex-bosses said something that has stuck with me for the past 5, 6 years? She said, don't keep spending your money travelling to nearby places, because chances are you'll find similar mindsets and cultures and lifestyles and experiences to your own. To really grow and push your thinking and boundaries and challenge yourself as a person, you should travel as far away as you can, and see how differently people live. I've kept that advise and used it, and I think I'm better for it.

NO GREATER LOVE

Today I recalled again that time is not a measure of love, that I was with a guy for close to two years, and I didn't really feel much for him, that I liked being liked, and he was the first person who said they liked me.

I love Tina, and I am profoundly glad we got to know each other through a Facebook group for feminists, perhaps two years ago. We never really spoke to each other, and in fact I deleted my Facebook last year, so it was like we weren't even in each other's lives, just strangers who could have unfollowed each other on Instagram, but didn't. Tina has an exceptional memory, so she tells me what she learned in linguistics, about Kachru's concentric circles of English, how some Americans tend to be surprised that I speak English "very well", 'cos I don't come from a Western country. Singapore is English-educated, we were colonized by the British, so whether I like it or not, I speak English just as well as the British have taught me to. She tells me about Frankenstein, how Mary Shelley had written about it for her pain of having lost a child, and Frankenstein was basically her way of using pain to birth something greater. Tina talks about all these feminist notions and feminist writers and she also talks about her previous dating life. She tells me about when she was in more "fucked up" times, or at least about her misadventures in dating, and it helps. I feel like with Tina, I have found my tribe. She's half-Filipino so she understands the pressure of conservative Asian cultures, and yet she also lets me know if I have anything sexual I want to ask about, I can ask her. It's one thing to have friends back home in Singapore tolerate or give me just enough room to talk about sex or the like, but it is another to have a two-way conversation, to know that I'm not just being not-judged, but that I have a listening ear as well as someone else's stories to take away and learn from. Tina is sentimental just like I am, we feel so much and she reads a lot and she somehow knows the right thing to say or the right book or film or whatever it is to point me towards, so I can relate to something greater than I am. She likes silly things like astrology and she also literally serenaded me with How Do I Live at karaoke while kneeling on the ground, she's so melodramatic. She's so fun and live-in-the-moment I admire her so much and want to be her in those moments. I look at her and her boyfriend of four years, Sean, and I think, one day I will live with a long-term boyfriend and we will be like them. I'm so happy that she's found Sean, I'm happy that she does things like get balloons for him after a bad work day, and that they go bird-watching and lose their city stresses to the park, and they love each other in a comfortable, safe way even though they've both been through shit before this. In New York, as it is in other places, it is difficult to find love, and perhaps like anywhere else, it is also difficult to make real friends. I'm grateful that I found a sister in Tina, and I love her.

On our first date, Bennett ordered a grilled mac and cheese sandwich, which means yes, there is macaroni and cheese between two slices of bread, which is then grilled, because this is America. I noticed that he wasn't eating much while I was almost done with my food, which apart from being caused by him telling me about his life, he also said was due to the fact that he was nervous, and he gets nervous when you know you like someone new. I thought it was adorable he said it, men don't generally speak to me so candidly like that, I wear my heart on my sleeve but it is rarely reciprocal. Ben has two and a half cute somewhat-pixellated hearts tattooed on the left of his chest, like when you have three lives in a video game and you're midway through your first life. I have never met a man with such a dorky tattoo, and I have never liked any tattoo so much, as much as my own. (This is not to say that I saw his tatts at the diner, it is winter and we were both sensibly clothed in layers.) We walked around Manhattan, talking about sci-fi books, him gushing about Westworld, myself trying to take in his story as well as I was taking in every new view I'd not yet gotten accustomed to. He is the first person to have brought me into Central Park, that night there looked to be some sort of commotion going on, there was a South American country's flag being carried on but neither of us recognised what it was, though I think I guessed Venezuela. We talked about productivity, and trying to define what we each meant by productivity. At the park, before he asked if I wanted to make out (leading me to guffaw for a good three minutes), he told me something very tender. Sometimes I can tell when people say things 'cos they've been reading what I write, and sometimes I know that they try not to fall into that trap of just being what I'm seeking, and with Ben, I just felt like I'd met a male counterpart of myself. He's honest and vulnerable because he's honest and vulnerable, and I like it that he wasn't trying to hide it, nor was he trying to play it up like some kind of get-in-my-pants badge either. I talked to him about my life story, which we joked about quizzing him on because I'd embellished it with so many details, and then when I asked him questions I hadn't even mentioned in the story explicitly but just during our rambling conversations, he remembered all of them. He told me about his life story, and I remember all of it, and I won't put it here because those details are for me and not for you, but I found it the most endearing because men don't usually share their life stories so easily, you have to work for it, you get to five dates, you get one nugget of important information, etc, but Ben told me his life story, like I'd told him mine. There is a comfort I feel with him that I don't ever want to forget, I trust him so much, we did something together for the first time and I was loud in a way that I didn't even think about and embarrassed his housemates would hear, and I was like omg what is going on. We talked about good things and bad things and things we were good at and bad at, and he has the most gorgeous curly hair, and pretty eyelashes. He spent the first three nights saying "I really like you, Sarah" and saying good and nice things about me, without an agenda beyond wanting to let me know he felt it. I like Ben a lot, and you might doubt it but I wouldn't, I do love him. We played word games, because he also studied linguistics, and there is a point when chemistry usually ends and you're left hanging for the right words to say to each other, but I never felt it with Bennett. 

ANGELS

for New York, for Bennett, for Tina, for Cupid and Psyche, for all the guardian angels:

they would be in love, love, love

and every day I'm learning about you

the things that no one else sees

and the end comes too soon

like dreaming of angels

and leaving without them

and living without them

being as in love with you as I am

being as in love with you as I am

being as in love with you as I am

being as in love, love, love

love, love, love

love, love, love

xx

TRUE LOVE WILL FIND YOU IN THE END

Today I hung out with Tina, my best friend in New York. We had Mexican food and I'd thought I'd be able to have good horchata for a final time in the US before leaving, but the horchata we had was horrible. We also went to Sephora for me to check out US-exclusive makeup, and then we went to Books Are Magic, where I got a book and a souvenir T-shirt for myself. I don't like the idea of souvenirs because souvenirs are touristy and I don't quite like to visit a place as a tourist, but I do like the bookstore a lot and the tee looked comfy, so I got it. While eating, Tina asked whether I had any favorite moments in New York, and so I listed some of them, in no particular order.

One was being at the Women's March and watching Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and so many inspiring women, that entire day was electric, plus the disastrous first date that we got to eavesdrop on was epically bad. One was when I was eating a bagel with Adam at a park in Greenpoint. That was one of my first weeks here, and the temperature had really just started dropping, so neither of us really even wanted to be out. I was so cold that I pretty much inhaled the bagel, and to my brain at the moment, I'd never appreciated food as much as I was doing then. It was amazing. Bagels in the cold are now a thing. Another was seeing a proposal at Brooklyn Bridge, and then another definitely when a stranger danced with me as we both listened to a drummer, on opposite platforms waiting for either of our trains to arrive between us and break our eye contact. I had a brilliant first date at Slate NY, I enjoyed the date very much, and we stepped out onto a snowing night, which was romantic and magical, but never evolved into anything more, and yet it was a great date nonetheless. Karaoke with Tina was extremely fun, and I challenge anyone to be more fun than Tina is at karaoke, the woman is one-of-a-kind and I wish everybody could know her. I went to Alexander Hamilton's grave with Ben, and on the same day some pigeons shat on his coat while we were at the castle that has a view of the Statue of Liberty. Bennett took me to Grand Central Station, and he told me that his prep school was one of the schools that Gossip Girl was based on, we looked down at the crossing crowds, and we felt small and inconsequential in a good way, the way you do when you look at stars, and we headed to Central Park, where he proceeded to ask me whether I wanted to make out, and I remember laughing non-stop because he was the cutest. He is the cutest. Tomorrow might make the list, Tina and I are going to the Met!

so kiss me and smile for me
tell me that you'll wait for me

I'M CALLING IT

I haven't thought of the one for ages. I haven't believed in the idea of the one in a long time, nor do I do now. It's not like I believe in God nor fate nor do I think there is a person made just for everyone in this world. I think the one is just the person you choose to spend the rest of your life with who chooses the same with you, and that could literally be anyone. I do, however, think that I've done my fair share of dating, to know what I want, and what doesn't cut it. (I also think that dating enough should be the norm and recommended. You spend years of your life taking on jobs and determining the right profession to be happy in. It should be the same with your romantic life. These are two of my favorite articles that back it up.) It takes real effort for me to feel like I've never felt before. And yet it takes no effort to talk about climate change and our projected values for the world. I've dated maybe forty men in my life, seriously or one-off things, and not a single one has ever asked me "would you like to make out?" on a first date. At Central Park, no less. You had New York on your side. I was very amused to have been the one to tell you that the MBTI was thought up by two women who had no scientific background, and of course I knew you think the whole thing is foolish. It's like I knew slow walkers are your pet peeves, and yet you told me I could let you know if you were walking too fast for me. You could never walk too fast for me. It feels easy to think of you, am I back in middle school? The answer would be no, because I've never been to middle school and I have no clue what ages comprise middle-school-dom.

We saw a family with two kids who had lollipops, one of them asleep. I wanted to tell you but I was preoccupied: one time, I fell asleep sucking on a Chupa Chups lollipop and I woke up with ants in my mouth. One time, we took the Subway and although it shouldn't usually feel so comfortable with someone new that you can fall asleep together on a train ride, we both did, with your head on mine. Also, may I just say, I have no idea where I placed my glasses so I'm typing this with my phone literally four inches away from my face. That's irrelevant to this post, it's just me being a dumbass.

POLAR VORTEX

If you Google polar vortex, I think the definition is "so cold Sarah could die", I mean literally try it and see. The temperature in Singapore now is 88°F, which I have lived in for 28 years. The temperature in Queens now is 13°F. I don't believe in God but who do I pray to for help?

FEAR IS THE HEART OF LOVE

When it's good, it's easy. Sometimes you try so hard and you blame men for not trying hard enough, but I think I've just now learned that the fact they don't try means they don't think you're right for them, and that's okay. When it's good, you don't have to stay up wondering why they're not holding onto you while you sleep, you don't have to struggle wondering why you're still awake while they sleep, you don't have to make up conversation by yourself while they're driving, you don't have to provide justifications and qualifications for love, you don't have to wonder why they don't seem to say they like you very often, you don't have to grip onto topics of common interest and pretend you understand their lingo, because they won't do it for you. Sometimes it's good, and you can talk about anything, and they will feel warm and comfortable, and you will like their dorky video-game-three-lives-heart tattoo as much as they like the tattoo on your spine, sometimes they will tell you you are beautiful and you believe it, sometimes you think they are just as beautiful and try your best to make them believe it, sometimes they are wonderful and feel just right, and sometimes you play games and it's easy to connect because you like the same things and dislike the same things and sometimes, it's easy because it's good.

IMPOSTOR SYNDROME

Is there a scale to impostor syndrome? Is it measured by how often you feel it, how intense you feel it, the duration of time for which you feel it in any one moment? Over the last few years, I've read about nationalist rhetorics, of Trump and his goddamn wall, of Brexit, and you know the gist. I wonder if anyone looks at me in New York and thinks I am here to steal a job that should rightfully belong to someone who was born here. I feel less than, I feel not good enough. I don't even have a college degree, I've never been to college. I tend to think a lot about what other people think about me, and I worry all the time, that people don't want me here. It's silly because I have brains and I'm capable, I'm sure I can do a lot of jobs just as well as other candidates, plus I have the hunger for it, to prove myself, to prove that I belong. Singaporeans qualify for the H1B1-Singapore visa, which costs 460 USD to file. $460, that's the same price as like, a new phone. Why not? Why not me? Why not now?

Also, upon further pondering, I just thought about the people I know who weren't born in Singapore but are living and working and studying in Singapore, and I don't think any of them is stealing anyone's job so, pfffft, shut up and settle down, Sarah. If someone has a bigoted opinion about immigrants, you shouldn't care about them.

AMPERSAND

Bukankah saya seorang berbangsa Melayu? Apabila saya menulis CV, saya mencatat bahawa saya boleh berbual dan menulis dalam bahasa Inggeris, Melayu dan juga Mandarin. Namun, jika anda boleh membaca tulisan ini, anda pun akan faham bahawa saya tidak berkebolehan untuk berbual atau menulis dalam Melayu secara lancar. Saya tidak tahu apa CV dalam bahasa Melayu pun. Apabila saya menulis dalam bahasa Inggeris, ternyata saya selesa dan berpengalaman menulis dalam bahasa Inggeris, apabila saya menulis dalam bahasa Melayu, tulisannya seperti seorang kanak-kanak berumur enam tahun. Perkataan demi perkataan, saya berfikir dalam bahasa Inggeris, dan saya fikir, apa perkataan ini dalam Melayu. Sesungguhnya saya rasa ini sesuatu yang patut dikasihan, kerana bahasa Melayu adalah bahasa yang sungguh romantis, bahasa elok untuk menulis pantun, dan saya tidak pernah menggunakannya, melainkan menggunakan bahasa pasar untuk berbual bersama keluarga saya. Adakah ini makna sebenar seorang bilingual? Saya rasa sememangnya tidak.

Am I not Malay? When I am putting together a CV, I state that I'm able to speak and write in English, Malay and also Mandarin. However, if you can read this, you'd understand that I don't have the ability to speak nor write smoothly in Malay. I don't even know what CV is in Malay. When I write in English, it is obvious I'm comfortable and experienced writing in English, when I write in Malay, the writing seems to be that of a six-year-old child's. Word by word, I think in English, and I think, what's this word in Malay. I do think this is regrettable, considering Malay is a romantic language, a language for poetry, yet I have never used it but to speak coarsely with my family members. Is this what it really means to be a bilingual? I think not.

(Also, I wrote this awkward paragraph in Malay first and then I wrote the smoother, more eloquent paragraph in English. Sigh.)

ON A GOOD NOTE

When I left Singapore, my manager wrote me a letter. It was funny 'cos Aileen always said she wasn't good with words, and as long as I was working at Lush Vivo, they always knew me as the girl who was good with words, right. But then Aileen wrote me this goodbye note, and I bawled. I think, given my strange childhood and many suckerpunches in my past, it is really hard for me to inherently believe in my worth, but when my manager who works with me and sees me on a weekly basis for a year or so, writes good things about me, I just feel good to know I'm special. I'm special, and sometimes it scares other people that I'm so different, but that's on them, and not on me. I must remember that if ever any man doesn't think I'm special or doesn't treat me like I'm special, I can do without these men. My worth is more than a man who is scared to admit and see me for what I am. This is what my manager wrote:

Dear Sarah,
I actually don't know what to write. You see, I'm terrible with goodbyes and I refuse to say goodbye. From day 1, when you were wearing a red shirt, clutching a book, undies showing (in a good way) claiming to be feminist, you already stood out amongst the crowd. Nope it's not your fluent impressive way of introducing yourself, nor your height. =) It was your kindness. Somehow I knew then and there you were a good person. There wasn't anything that changed my mind: your non-religious way, history, lifestyle, beliefs. No matter what you do or say, we just knew, you were a good person. So much so it scared some people. At first, your sincerity and kindness were doubted and I would like to apologise that I wasn't able to protect you, and you had to go through a difficult time at first. But not long after that people really saw who you really are and you started taking care of everyone, including me. I don't think there's any way that I can thank you enough for being a good friend/sister/staff/colleague. My only regret is we don't have much memories outside work (but God knows even if I turn back time we still won't have much cos we're that old and lazy to go out). Lol. Also, every time I work with you, it doesn't feel like work, just hanging out with a friend. That's why in general I don't need to hang out with you outside of Lush to consider you one of my dearest friends. I really suck at expressing my feelings but I hope you get the gist of how much you mean to me and how much I'll miss you. I pray to all Gods that they guide you while you chase your dreams in New York. I believe in you Sarah, we all do. Please do not forget us when you're a famous New York Times best-selling author. Stay in touch. Text me when you need someone to talk to. I promise to reply. Even after three months.
❤ you. Aileen.

Damn, people always hustle me, saying they're not good with words, and then they make me cry!! I'm supposed to be the writer!!

THE ONE WHERE FRIENDSHIP HAS EQUAL VALUE TO ROMANCE

Sarah: Maybe one day i will reconnect with him when he and i are both in better places

Tina: But I think having a hard boundary like you said is healthy. Only dating people who make you feel good is a requisite most people don't bother with when they should

Sarah: !!!!! I'm glad that i finally learned it

Tina: Do you watch wong kar wai films??

Sarah: This man compliments me, tells me he really likes me, talks through his feelings with me, tells me about his life story, and i've been settling for non-commital emotionally unavailable men for what???
Sarah: No what's up!!

Tina: awhhhhhhhh
Tina: Sarah
Tina: That's so sweet
Tina: I'm surprised you haven't! He's like PEAK Asian cinema. A lot of his films are about lost love though
Tina: What you said reminded me of one of my favorites by him called "2046"

Sarah: I'm gonna see it when i'm back in SG, looks good but i can't do lost love now when i'm grieving New York and completely knocked over and beat up
Sarah: But i do want to see it!

Tina:

Sarah: Oh geez

Tina: Yeah I don't blame you
Tina: I'm so freaking cathartic
Tina: I douse all my wounds in salt lol
Tina: but do try them when you're feeling better. most are actually set in Hong Kong though there are some bits of his films set in old Singapore I think
Tina: Bennett sounds amazing

Sarah: Okay i will and will let you know what i think!
Sarah: Bennett is a very special man

Tina: I'm glad you could find a real connection that makes you feel good

Sarah: I'm glad too
Sarah: We keep telling each other
Sarah: He says he's happy he had a perfect week with me before i leave, but i think he's sad and upset that i got the bad news a day after he actually asked me to be his girlfriend, so i think i won't be seeing him again before i leave bc it's just hard and sucks for both of us

Tina: Oooohhhhh no
Tina: Now that's salt in the wound
Tina: Well if you think that's what you need then don't see him

Sarah: Yeah i think i'm more salt than wound for now
Sarah: (shrug emoji)

Tina: God
Tina: You're romantic but like
Tina: So much more reasonable than me
Tina: Or most of my friends even lol

Sarah: Haha i dunno, i think i've been through enough bad things from my environment that i really don't wanna add on to it of my own accord, if i can help it. I really really really cross my fingers that in a couple of years or so, i will be able to be with Bennett and we will both be in better places in our lives. As a hopeless romantic, i do want this to happen.

Tina: You're so optimistic. I love it.
Tina: Obviously I didn't know you very well before you were here
Tina: But it seems like you've done a lot of important growth in just a few short months
Tina: And no matter what happens, you're prepared for it, and you're better because of it.

Sarah: I am, i am better, but to be honest also, having you around to bounce off my feelings for the past two months, i'm amazed at how you always say the things i need to make me feel so much
Sarah: ❤

Tina: honestly like
Tina: I just ADORE you

THE REALITY OF EXPECTATIONS

Me: it's okay, it will be okay, I will be okay
Also me: *sobs and lies in my own pool of tears for 24 hours*
Me, ever the eternal optimist: crying is good, it releases manganese in the form of tears and relieves the amount of stress and sadness I feel

ON BEING HUMAN

When I was growing up, as many millions other people would have when they were growing up, I heard the question "what do you want to be when you grow up?" I think this is definitely an inspiring question, but it also feels a lot like Disney. Disney tells you that if you are a good person, then at the end of the day, good things will always happen for you. If you are a pretty princess, you will always find your prince. If you work hard enough, then you get to be what you want to be. Outside of Disney movies, it isn't so simple. You can't just be an astronaut if your country doesn't have a space program. Love doesn't magically happen and continue happily ever after. Sometimes you fall in love and they live ten thousand miles away from you. If you're born in Asia, in a conservative religious family, sometimes what is expected of you is wildly different than what is expected of a person born in America. I have many close female friends in Singapore, but across all my social circles, I have never been able to discuss female masturbation. It is a taboo, and I wonder if any girls in Singapore have close friends that they talk about it with. I wonder if I just have to increase the variety and diversity of my social circles. I was walking on Union Sq/4th Ave, and I met a homeless black man. He pointed out my Marceline boots, and then he proceeded to have a 30-minute session telling me about James Jackson and Emmett Till. James Jackson is a white supremacist who used a sword to kill a homeless African-American man two years ago, and James Jackson is on trial now. James Jackson said himself, that he feels angry when he sees black men go out with white women. When James Jackson was growing up, I wonder if anyone had asked him what he wanted to be, and I wonder if he'd thought he wanted to be a white supremacist who kills black men. In the Hamilton musical, the theme of leaving a legacy is a strong recurring one, and Alexander Hamilton never saw the legacy he left behind, he died before receiving any real recognition. In Michelle Obama's Becoming, she highlights that even though she did work hard and stayed in school and was a planner and an exceptional lawyer, and became the first black First Lady of the United States, the work had been put in generations before her own efforts had started. Her great-great grandfather had been a slave, but her grandparents worked hard, and her parents worked incredibly tirelessly, to make sure Michelle Obama and her brother got everything they needed to climb out of the South Side of Chicago. The idea of a legacy unbalances me, I don't think I want kids, especially because of climate change, and I have no idea what kind of an Earth I would be bringing my children into. My parents didn't personally see me through a steady education, which I understand, because they had me when they were eighteen. I was ten when they were twenty-eight. I'm 28, and I don't even know what I'm doing with my life right now, let alone if I had a ten-year-old kid in tow. I think, what I'm trying to say is, what I'm trying to do is, somehow allow myself to feel better. Millions of people didn't become the things they wanted to be when they grew up. Millions of people aren't doing what makes them happy. Some people are happy because they wanted to have families and be good parents, and some of them have achieved that, at least. It's not what I want. What I want is to know that I have value in the world, even if I never achieved my ambitions, and even if I don't create a path for my kids to achieve what they want. I think the problem with Disney is it teaches you to crave positive outcomes by working hard, and sometimes that's not the case. I have been a good person, and I have lived bravely. If you ask me now what I want to be, I'll tell you I want to be an American. Yet the two are mutually exclusive. Even if I don't feel I belong in the country I was born in, even if the environment is not one that encourages and supports my happiness, I want to feel like a good person, that I have done enough to be human. And I think I have. Every time you feel a fear of failure, but take a step towards overcoming that fear, I believe it makes you human. Every time something bad happens to you, but you use it to understand other people and how they have been shaped, instead of allowing it to shape the person you are, you are human. Every time you recognise your behaviors have been problematic, and you look back on them and allow yourself time and space to learn and grow instead of never facing your issues, you are human. I have done enough to be human, and I can live with that.

IN THE HEIGHTS

I've been in New York for two months now. I had an interview with Lush last week, along with several other job interviews in the past weeks, but they declined me, because of my requirement for a visa sponsorship. It makes sense, they wouldn't want to go through the hassle of paying more and going through the legal processes of hiring a foreigner to do a job that thousands of American-born citizens can do. This means that I will be leaving soon. While I've been here, I've seen people who get married to get green cards, I've seen immigrants who are quite probably undocumented and have overstayed their visas, and I wonder how they do it. I really do wonder. I've applied for everything that I'm sure I could have done, copywriting and editorial, retail and F&B businesses, fashion, everything you think I can do, I applied for. I used all descriptives that I think actually apply to me, I said I'm adaptable and a quick learner, I am hardworking and passionate, all those buzzwords but it didn't work, because I wasn't born in the right country, and also because I don't have a skill that's in demand and niche, like software engineering or coding or law or medicine. My strengths are writing about my life, and being honest. Like what can I even do with that? When I received news from both my interviewers today, I cried on the Subway trip home, and then I recalled, between two and three years ago, I sobbed uncontrollably on the train home in Singapore, and that was because I'd found out I was pregnant, and I didn't know what to do, and I felt like my life was going to end, but a lady gave me a tissue and told me, whatever it is, it was going to be alright. And it was, and it is, and it will always be. I tried my best. I told Tina, and she texted me the following.

Tina: There's a book I've read a million times about this man who is basically immortal and lives all these lives
Tina: And in the middle of the book is an "intermission" of his proverbs, advice from his long long life
Tina: And my favorite is
Tina: "Certainly the game is rigged, but don't let that stop you. If you don't bet, you can't win."

Before I received the news today, Ben (the one I used to date in Singapore) brought me to Trinity Church and we saw Alexander Hamilton's and Eliza Schuyler's graves. I had a great day with Ben, despite the fact that we started with a heavy discussion on our feelings, and how we'd hurt each other, and how it is almost impossible to stay friends with people you used to date. I am forever in awe of Lin-Manuel Miranda's portrayal of Hamilton, and the musical whose casting and lyrics seem to embody the melting pot of America as it is today, the fact that immigrants have always gotten the job done. Today, I thought about the past two months and how much I love New York. I think about having met Adam, and learning that loving a person is different from loving the idea of a person. I think about when I was changing trains last week, I was at West 4th and there was a drummer playing a song I liked (there is usually a drummer there), and I was bopping to the music while gazing into the distance, before I realised there was a guy at the opposite platform, who was looking at me and signalling thumbs up to me, and mirroring my movement and dances, and I laughed, because that sort of thing has never happened to me in Singapore. I think about having seen someone propose at Brooklyn Bridge, and how down-to-earth they had been, how there were no frills about it, and yet everyone around them felt an enormous swell in their hearts, or so it seemed to feel. I think about the dozens of independent bookstores, that stock all sorts of books, written by first-time-published authors. I think about being at the Women's March, swept up by the current of politics and doing the right thing. I think about how much I've learned and grown, well overdue, things like buying my own dishwashing liquid and sponge, and cleaning from the start to the end of the cooking process. I think about Tina, my best friend and soul sister in New York, someone who's so kindred despite having been across the world almost all our lives. And then I think about Bennett, my boyfriend.

So when I saw Adam as my "Most Compatible" recommendation on Hinge, I told a Hinge match of mine about it, because I'm clearly the kind of person who has no boundaries. His name was Bennett, and he asked if I wanted to talk about it as a friend, because he said he knew sometimes you need a friend more than anything else. We met at a diner, and I was candid about what I was feeling, because I hadn't thought about it as a date. After dinner, we walked to Grand Central Station, and then Central Park, where we saw a raccoon run across the frozen pond. We spent three dates, and the past five days learning everything about each other. He studied linguistics, as did Tina, so they both made silly jokes about linguistics to each other through me. Bennett (who goes by Ben) used to work facilitating games, so for one of our dates, we played a word game called Wordsy, which I now love, because it's really fun and I think I could be really good at it. Ben was super cute teaching me to play it, 'cos he was clearly better at it than I was, being that he's also a wordy person, and he used to facilitate games for work, right. But he was always being encouraging and telling me I was doing much better than other first-time-players, and he also commented on how well-designed games are. He says since he used to teach and facilitate kids, he needed to know how to play and lose well just enough, because obviously he shouldn't be winning all the games, to teach the kids, and it was so cute, I was like ???? We talked about our lives and Mars, and SpaceX and Elon Musk, and underwater sea creatures and the things we both hate, and I played a tiny bit of a game called Steep with his housemate Hugo, who is a huge history nerd (and looks like Paul Rust tbh). I was falling asleep and I told Ben, my sister Lyssa and I have an inside joke that annoys her and amuses me to no end, and it's that sometimes when Lyssa and I used to talk to each other in my room, I would be falling asleep, and I would try so hard to continue the conversation, but clearly my brain would be shutting down and I would have no control over what I'm even saying, and Lyssa would be like, "can you shut up and just sleep!!!!!" and I was worried I was doing the same with Ben, because we were talking about things we both hate, and I said Trump, and I feel like I was mouthing other words, but making no sense.

I know I said I wouldn't mention my dates, but Bennett really reminds me of Penn Badgley, and so I told him to watch You with me. If you don't know what You is, it's about Penn Badgley being a stalker (yet again). No matter what happens, I really am glad I've got him in my life. I told him I got rejected by Lush and am making plans to leave, and this is what he says "no way, there are definitely other jobs, you'll be fine! I've got your back :) I will do anything I can to help you" and like, this boy (younger than I am by two years), he's been very sweet, and he's either saying I'm smart or I'm pretty or I'm wonderful, and every so often, he says "hey" to get my attention, and then "I'm not gonna disappear on you, okay?" and yesterday we had a confusing day, and it ended with him asking if I wanted what we had to be a relationship, and I said yes, and he said he was in, and ???????

I don't know, I feel extremely sad at leaving New York, I love it and have had plenty of lovely memories here, and I feel I belong here, but I also feel a lot more of an adult than I used to be. I think I needed to get away from the environment that I'd been depressed in for two years, and I've gained some ground and independence, and I've tried my best, and I'm just really proud of myself for even having tried, anyway. In the Netflix series You, and in Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse that I'd just seen today, and in many other shows I've seen in my lifetime, the landscape is very often New York, and I feel so, so grateful and so humbled to have been given the chance to experience it in such an authentic way. I know which trains have stops in which neighborhoods, I know how to make connections from Queens to Brooklyn without using the Google Maps-suggested route into Manhattan. I know that you can get some decent horchata. I know which brownstones in which neighborhoods are most sought-after. I know which Subway platforms have musical performers. I know where to find rice in Trader Joe's. I know that when I take the bus, the welcome announcement says "welcome to New York" and perhaps, that was indeed the inspiration behind Taylor Swift's song. I know that people struggle here, just as they do in Singapore, and people are happy here, just as they are happy in Singapore, and that heartbreaks and job losses and families and education happen in both and in neither and in all places. I know so much, and maybe I feel I belong, but the world will always have boundaries and borders, and I'm enough of an adult to know that if I'm happy within, I will be happy anywhere, and I think I'm ready to be happy, even in Singapore. We'll see what the future holds, but for now, thank you, New York, for being the most magical and greatest city in the world, for me to become an adult.

DESIGNED TO BE DELETED

A Map of The World

One of the ancient maps of the world is heart-shaped, carefully drawn and once washed with bright colors, though the colors have faded as you might expect feelings to fade from a fragile old heart, the brown old map of a life. But feeling is indelible, and longing infinite, a starburst compass pointing in all the directions two lovers might go, a fresh breeze swelling their sails, the future uncharted, still far from the edge where the sea pours into the stars.

— Ted Kooser

Dating in this day and age is a funny thing. It is a painful thing, sometimes. I'm not quite sure if I've mentioned it here before, but I read that there are some anxieties that we face in society today that our parents would not have faced two decades ago. For example, some of us tend to perhaps overthink about what the person we are texting is feeling about us, based on whether they respond immediately, or whether they have used an emoji, or if we have been left "on read". Two decades ago, dating was much simpler. You left a call, and if the person wanted to call, they would call back. There was no such thing as being left "on read" or blue-ticked.

In the past week, I have received The Great British Bakeoff Big Book of Baking. I'd ordered it as a Christmas gift for Adam, but it arrived very late, and I don't know what to do with it. I've diligently removed him from my social media, and forcefully stopped myself from looking up his profiles, anywhere. I knew it would hurt if I saw him moving on, and I didn't want to hurt myself. I've been on first dates with three different men in the past week.

Yesterday, though, in the morning, Hinge prompted me that there was a profile they thought I would be "Most Compatible" with, and if you haven't guessed it yet, it was Adam. It's the same photos I saw when I first matched him on Tinder, more than a year ago. I took a screenshot of it and put it on Instastories, mostly asking what the Hinge algorithm uses to decide that two people were most compatible, but then came my friends' responses. They asked, why did we break up? Why don't I give him another shot? I thought y'all were good together, etc.

I didn't know what to say, so I haven't replied to any of them. What do I say? I hurt him, and he wouldn't forgive me. It was the wrong timing for us, and we're not ready. It's not up to me to call the shots? He said he didn't see us working out together? I saw someone vaping on a Juul and it made me think of him. Whenever an article about Terrace House is suggested on my Google homepage, I think, do I want to read this?

There is something to be said about loyalty. I don't know if it's loyalty, but I am extremely attached to people. When I was in Singapore, time and time again, Adam and I would take turns seeking each other out. I didn't like anyone else enough to really invest myself in them. I know some people think we didn't even spend much time physically together, but that's not how I work. I fall for somebody really quickly, I always have, and then I find ways to stay in love.

There is a reason why La La Land affects me so much, although not everybody thinks the ending is devastating. The core of what I seek in life is love. I moved to New York, largely because of Adam. I know he wasn't the be-all, end-all, but he was like, my True North, for a good chunk of my time. I think a big part of being scared of moving on, is knowing that if a person can have feelings for someone else so soon, maybe what you had with them wasn't real, and they never loved you. I don't think love is easily replaceable. Or maybe that's just me.

AS LOVERS GO

My tattoo, it says "the fact that you're alive is a miracle", it's one of my 368 favorite lines from Hamilton. So you say, you've talked about that concept a lot, you've officiated two weddings and your whole speech was about that.

This is what you said in your speech:

Life is weird.

That seems like a good place to start. 

For the entirety of human existence, people have tried to find some great meaning or solve that ultimate riddle of why we’re here.

We’ve had poets, and artists, and the literary sort, who would tell you that meaning is all around you, in the laughter of children, the smell of rain, those moments when you’re alone and can’t help but dance. And we’ve had the great thinkers, philosophers, men of science. 

Some applied practical logic to the whole endeavour, they’d say procreation, survival of the species, or merely nothing at all. 

Some stepped back and looked at the wonder of the universe, purely awestruck by our true insignificance in the whole of the universe. Here we are on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam… that pale blue dot.

The bumper sticker industry has basically survived because no one’s really figured it out.

Life is weird.

Life is this long chaotic journey that we all are gifted to be a part of. 

There is nothing as amazing to me, as the beauty of this road we travel, where there’s no reset button, your day keeps going, you could make a left turn on a random Tuesday afternoon and spend the rest of your life wondering what Wednesday would have been like if you’d gone right.

But, I’ve always felt that there was one constant in the chaos, one thing, one answer, that’s never changed. That’s never criticized, or picked apart by the cynics.

And that’s love.

There’s a reason all good stories start with a girl.

Love has moved mountains, love has toppled empires, inspired operas, convinced me to listen to Coldplay when I was 14.

Love is some heavy stuff.

Love is finding that one person, who makes you smell the rain, hear children laughing, and want to dance uncontrollably 24/7.

That one person who makes you feel like staring down the vastness of the universe from your pale blue dot and saying, who’s insignificant now?

Love is that one person who makes you realize that you don’t care about left turns or right turns, because that left turn that one Tuesday afternoon was a small step in the path that would eventually lead you to finding that one person.

Love is the one thing that makes sense in the chaos.

Love makes life a little less weird.

Life, uh, finds a way.

The physicist Jon Osterman once spoke of Thermodynamic Miracles,

“events against odds so astronomical they're effectively impossible, like oxygen spontaneously becoming gold. And yet, in each human coupling, a thousand million sperm vie for a single egg. Multiply those odds by countless generations, against the odds of your ancestors being alive; meeting; siring this precise son; that exact daughter…” 

To be here today with two people, whose whole lives have instilled them with every little quirk and idiosyncrasy that makes them who they are. And that somehow, in the chaos, they found each other, at the right time, the right place. And to see them here before us, so in sync, so complementary, so perfect, and so in love. 

That is the crowning unlikelihood. The thermodynamic miracle. "For you are life, rarer than a quark and unpredictable beyond the dreams of Heisenberg; the clay in which the forces that shape all things leave their fingerprints most clearly.”

For one, because I am usually the one writing my rambles, it is nice to read someone else speak of love the way I would. For two, you say you're very familiar with Hamilton because you do a lot of karaoke, but you've never seen it and refuse to have an opinion till you see it, but you'd watch it with me, though. I smile again, because I usually have to ask whether someone would like to watch it, but you preempt it, which might be wise, considering it's something I like so much I have it tattooed on me.

I say, "tell me about your ex" and you say "she was too cool for me, timing was off, we were too similar, she loved Sonic Youth" and I smile again, because it's one thing to say that your ex is too cool for you and recognize that sometimes, despite the greatest of intentions, timing is everything, and for another thing, I've never listened to Sonic Youth and I'm super uncool, so there is next to no chance I will ever remind you of her.

she said, "you've gotta be crazy,
what do you take me for,
some kind of easy mark?"

you've got wits, you've got looks,
you've got passion but I swear
that you've got me all wrong,
all wrong, all wrong
but you've got me

I'll be true, I'll be useful
I'll be cavalier, I'll be yours, my dear
and I'll belong to you
if you just let me through

this is easy as lovers go

JOE ALWYN

When Taylor Swift started dating Joe Alwyn, they kept it lowkey and out of the public eye as best they could, and suddenly they've been together for two years. I know y'all know I don't even secretly stan Taylor so imma try do the same. Maybe if I don't mention the person I'm dating so much, it will go much better. Maybe, I don't know, there's no science to this. You either have it or you don't.

I want to stay at his apartment forever, though, it's warmer than mine, which is a thing I should probably bring up to my landlord, but we'll see how it goes. We watched the Bandersnatch episode of Black Mirror together, he loves Black Mirror as much as I do, and we watched Rick & Morty, and we watched the great horror that was the Fyre Festival crash and burn to pieces. That documentary is possibly the best example of schadenfreude, we laughed so hard at these rich people getting scammed. If anyone deserves it, these rich-ass spoilt mofos definitely did. 

He plays a game called Detroit: Become Human and he was talking me through it while playing but I fell asleep. I figure as long as I don't mention his name or what he does or where he works, it's lowkey enough, right? Lol you'll never know who it is even if you were talking to him. 

When Tina and I were in Chinatown for the march on Saturday, we were seated next to a couple on their first date and JFC, it did not pan out the way they would have wanted, I'm guessing. Tina began texting me and I swear I had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing.

Tina: They are totally on
Tina: A first date or something lol
Tina: This is an awful place for a date
Tina: Like it's not romantic at all
Tina: And it's loud
Tina: Like what lol
Tina: She's too cute for him anyway

Sarah: I thought the same!!! I was thinking oh im so glad we went to slate

Tina: "do you know what weather is"

Sarah: TINA STOP

Tina: "In Florida we have weather! It's different than the weather here"
Tina: "We also have water in Florida!"
Tina: "Oh in Japan we have water too"
Tina: oh thats weird

Sarah: Omg

Tina: "OH I HAVE TWO KIDS"

Sarah: "I forgot to mention"

Tina: "I forgot to put that in my profile" yeah billshjt

Sarah: I cant stay here any longer help

Tina: Oh god thats intense
Tina: He's really bad at this

So anyway, the guy had just gotten separated from his wife two months ago, and the moment he mentioned his kids, the conversation began spiralling even further out of his control, and when we left the cafe, I just let out all the giggles I'd been holding in.

Ben and I met as friends on Friday, we had a great time at Caveat NYC. Sometime last week, he mentioned to me that SpaceX had laid off some employees, and something about it got to me. I don't know if people think I don't wish well on guys I used to date. Joey was immature with me, but I also really do think he's good at his job, and I don't hope that any of the guys lose their jobs or whatever. Like, obviously I'll talk some shit about Adam right after we break up, but overall I would still wish him the best in his life. The only person I really give no fucks about was Grayson. He was travelling the world recruiting students for a prestigious university, and because he was a mentor/advisor of sorts, I think his credibility as an honest person factors into his work. So I have never regretted sending his compromising photos and texts to his board of administration. Fuck that guy. What a predator.

Anyway. Apparently it's the chilliest outside. It is negative 10 in Celsius/14 degrees Fahrenheit. It is literally the coldest I've been in my life. I'm not leaving this apartment. He's making us sandwiches and smoothies.

I WANT ITI GOT IT

Ariana Grande is all I want to be. I went on the most perfect date last night. We were at Slate NY, the most amazing place for a first date. It's a bar with a slide, a bowling alley, beer on tap, a giant connect-four board, arcade games, a foosball and ping-pong tables. It's got the works.

I didn't finish my Philly cheesesteak arepas (which were bomb, but I'm the tiniest-portion eater in the world), so he asked some guys next to us, if they wanted the one I didn't touch, and the guy loved it so much (told you it was bomb) he got us each a tequila shot, which was incredibly cool and nice of him.

We talked effortlessly for three hours. I was stunned by his chiselled cheekbones, and I could not believe my luck. Here is a man who is easy on the eyes, who has some form of brainy as well as social intelligence, and who made me laugh with his banter. We left at midnight, and it had started to snow for the first time since I've been in New York, or at least it was the first time I was seeing it.

I looked up at the sky, gaping at the snowfall, and he said I looked cute, watching the snow in wonder. It was the most perfect magical first date, and we are seeing each other again on Monday. I was telling him I'm excited to go to the Women's March here in New York tomorrow, and he told me his sister got arrested for protesting at Kavanaugh's confirmation.

It's surreal, finding someone on the same wavelength to flirt with endlessly. Maybe this is it, bitches.

(PS. there's been some anti-Semitic talk about the original Women's March cofounders, so Tina and I are going to an offshoot)

PERSEPOLIS

Dear Sarah, I'm sorry that I didn't handle the situation very maturely. I'm sorry that when your mother found out and you fell into depression, I was not responsive. I'm sorry that I only popped up in your life when it was convenient and I missed having you physically in my life. Dear Sarah, I'm sorry I was selfish and I said I would wait for you up till the end of the year, and then I didn't really do my best at accommodating your mental health. I'm sorry that you uprooted your life and then I couldn't be there to support you through it. I'm sorry that even before you flew over, you did bring up the fact that you'd like to be friends first, so you could settle in to New York, and not have the latent effects of major life adjustments pouring into our relationship, but I said we had become too intimate, and I did not want to wait. I'm sorry that I was selfish and tried to initiate what I could not follow through. Dear Sarah, I'm sorry I befriended then used you when I was away from a loved one I'm betrothed to, without telling you, and eventually hurting you and giving you trust issues for years to come. Dear Sarah, I'm sorry I have allowed you to constantly and consistently bend and fold to the whims and fancies of men. I'm sorry that you've always felt your worth to be tied to how men perceive you. You are worthy of love. I am sorry that I have never reminded you, but you are worthy of love. You deserve a man who loves you fiercely and unabashedly. You deserve a man who makes you feel like you are worth their damn all, someone who's proud of you and proud of loving you. I'm sorry that I made concessions to all the wrong men, and I'm sorry I allowed them into your life, making you feel lower and lower about your value and self-esteem. Dear Sarah, I'm sorry and it will not happen again. Today, and every day from today, we do things for us. It is time for us to put our self-interests first, because we deserve it.

CHORIZO

There are some things that remain inexplicably vivid memories in my mind. For example, I saw the words "be brave" yesterday and I was immediately taken back to three different things at once: first, the billboard of The Man in the High Castle I saw in LA, it was screening on Amazon Prime at the time, second, I remember reading the copy of The Man in the High Castle voraciously, a copy that Joey's mom had gotten him, and third, I think of Sara Bareilles and the fact that my cousin, our friend Amy and I all danced to the song Brave in public in New Zealand. The first two have barely any connection to the last, but whenever I see the words "be brave", all three are conjured up simultaneously, and extremely strongly. I don't know why these three memories are so vivid. Perhaps because in some ways, the essence of what I was doing in all three scenarios were actual depictions of the meaning of the word "brave" and my brain wants to neon-signpost it? Maybe. Maybe not.

WHO WILL FIGHT?

I started the day by having a video call with my best friends. It was 7 in the morning for me and they were having dinner together in Singapore. I told them all the anxiety I'd been feeling, everything that's been weighing me down or causing me to feel hollow. My three best friends listened, and they gave me a pep talk. One of them is a doctor, but she didn't get through the first time. She took a long way round to get there, and yet become a rare Malay female doctor in Singapore, she did. You could even say at this moment that that particular setback perhaps, very likely made her stronger and added to her character. I'm reading Michelle Obama's Becoming, and she failed the bar exam her first time. I mean, yeah the bar is supremely difficult, just like becoming a doctor is, but she also failed. My best friend gave me her "TED talk", she said, you don't have to feel good about it, but you have to get up. You have to get up, and go on. Get up, and go on. Get up. Get up. Get up. Also from Becoming is this anecdote, after Michelle Obama was told by her high school counselor that she wasn't Princeton material:

I’ve been lucky enough now in my life to meet all sorts of extraordinary and accomplished people—world leaders, inventors, musicians, astronauts, athletes, professors, entrepreneurs, artists and writers, pioneering doctors and researchers. Some (though not enough) of them are women. Some (though not enough) are black or of color. Some were born poor or have lived lives that to many of us would appear to have been unfairly heaped with adversity, and yet still they seem to operate as if they’ve had every advantage in the world. What I’ve learned is this: All of them have had doubters. Some continue to have roaring, stadium-sized collections of critics and naysayers who will shout I told you so at every little misstep or mistake. The noise doesn’t go away, but the most successful people I know have figured out how to live with it, to lean on the people who believe in them, and to push onward with their goals.

I walked into a building today, and I hadn't known it, but the building also housed an office for Hunter College. Lin-Manuel Miranda went to and also taught at Hunter. It reminds me that I want to go to college, eventually. I might take the long way round, but I'll get up. And go. Life is chess, not checkers. Today when I stepped into that building (not for Hunter College, not today), I received my first positive news in perhaps two weeks. I don't know if it's that, or it was letting out my deepest, darkest worries to my best friends, or it was that I dressed myself well with a proper amount of thermal wear, but today has been a most beautiful day. I walked around SoHo on the streets where the sunlight was hitting directly, and there was no wind to bite my face, there was no tightness in my lungs, struggling to breathe without pain from the cold. I felt warm from top to toe, and I walked and basked in the sun. The streets of New York are built beautifully, you cannot deny this. The buildings are well thought out, and they make sense to me. People stop and compliment me on my (Marceline) boots, a thing that happens very regularly here. I love New York, and today I was reminded why. Unlike in Singapore where people keep to themselves and sharing your thoughts is weird, here it's okay to be weird. Here, it's weird if you're not weird. It is a beautiful day, and the sun is shining, and I am in New York. I am in a cafe, eating a spanakopita, a Greek spring roll of sorts. I was first introduced to this with Han, when we were in LA the first time and couchsurfing at Nick's. Nick was probably the first Greek person we'd met. There are so many people in New York, and I am one of these people. I have gotta get up, and go on.

WHO WILL LOVE YOU?

Days later, I was still feeling dislocated, and we were both nursing sore throats. Barack and I got into a fight—about what exactly, I can't remember. For every bit of awe we felt in Kenya, we were also tired, which led to quibbling, which led finally, for whatever reason, to rage. "I'm so angry at Barack," I wrote in my journal. "I don't think we have anything in common." My thoughts trailed off there. As a measure of my frustration, I drew a long emphatic gash across the rest of the page.

Like any newish couple, we were learning how to fight. We didn't fight often, and when we did, it was typically over petty things, a string of pent-up aggravations that surfaced usually when one or both of us got overly fatigued or stressed. But we did fight. And for better or worse, I tend to yell when I'm angry. When something sets me off, the feeling can be intensely physical, a kind of fireball running up my spine and exploding with such force that I sometimes later don't remember what I said in the moment. Barack, meanwhile, tends to remain cool and rational, his words coming in an eloquent (and therefore irritating) cascade. It's taken us time—years—to understand that this is just how each of us is built, that we are each the sum total of our respective genetic codes as well as everything installed in us by our parents and their parents before them. Over time, we have figured out how to express and overcome our irritations and occasional rage. When we fight now, it's far less dramatic, often more efficient, and always with our love for each other, no matter how strained, still in sight.

THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

My hormones in imbalance mean that my period is slightly delayed. As long as I don't get my period, my hormones stay imbalanced (unbalanced?) and I actually get more emotional. I think, well listen, Sarah, if he was unwilling to go through some of your toughest times with you, if he's not ready to take on that burden, if he's not willing to love you through the dark, he's not the one for you. Then I think again, I made him cry so loud I heard him while I walked down his apartment building. I made him feel so much he's either still angry at me as a direct result of being hurt, or he's refused to feel anything and has chosen to feel apathetic towards me. I think again, he liked reading what I wrote about him, he liked to see me post my happy stories about him, he wanted it to be a neverending cycle, but that's unrealistic. A relationship has ups and downs, it will always have ups and downs. I think of the precarious situation I am in. Adam liked being in the spotlight (when it was positive), but who's going to be okay with me writing the truth, writing my truths, for an audience my partner himself might not understand? Many people are private and even if they aren't, most people would hate for their flaws and their weak moments to be on display. Who will be comfortable with me? Do I change my truth and only post the good things, even when I know I am experiencing turmoil? Or do I just stop all of it, say neither good nor bad? I yearn to be loved, I don't understand why I am not loved unconditionally the way I love, unconditionally. I say the very same thing on Instagram, and then my friend Rai from Lush in Singapore, she says "but... I love you." I begin bawling, because the women I know are capable of loving me through so much, my friends have loved me through my anxiety and my rants and my emotional rollercoasters. They have, they honestly have. They listen to me ramble about man after man and feeling unloved, and my pride of goddesses love me fiercely and unconditionally, regardless how unstable I am. I never have to show them only my good or happy side. I just want a man who loves me like that. I want a man who accepts me and loves and doesn't get bored of me, and chooses me through it all, through everything. I wish someone could see the future and tell me, with full assurance, that there is a man like that for me. Because I am tired and I have felt like this too many times to believe anything otherwise can be true.