How are you, really?

Chemo.

Loansharks.

Operations.

Death.

Foreclosure.

Eviction.

Loss.

Heartbreak.

Divorce.

All things friends who have opened up to me in the last 2 to 3 weeks, have experienced. Their own private hells.

Most of them were only sharing about it after the fact. And I felt like such a bad friend that I didn't know. Wasn't able to help. That I wasn't even aware of what was going on.

It never ceases to amaze me at what really goes on in other people's lives and how much people hide.

Whenever I have those rare moments where I can sit and people watch somewhere, I look at the passing faces, wondering about the stories that really lie beneath - like undercurrents in river that looks calm.

I have often thought that we are all like ducks. Floating on the lake as pretty as can be, little webbed feet  paddling for dear life just under the surface.

On rare occasions, I have had sudden surges of audaciousness, and just gone up to talk to random strangers about those fleeting moments of pain that I caught.

A girl once. Weeping while staring out the window on the bus. I offered her the only tools I had that would be of service, starbucks serviettes that I had hastily stuffed into my bag when I had grabbed a coffee earlier. And she told me her story on the ride home.

A blonde, rather ah beng man whom I thought I had glimpsed wiping a tear hastily with his sleeve like he was wiping his brow. He opened up about his life, and how he thought he had ruined it while we sitting outside cineleisure and we landed up laughing about the seemingly invisible birds crapping on cars on the opposite side of the road.

It never ceases to amaze me what sometimes people are willing to share with absolute strangers. Its fascinating. And it's made me wonder, why do people find it harder to share with friends?

Each time I cross paths with these people. Or see them on the street. I send a little prayer upwards. Hoping that they will be safe. That they won't give up.

I know that sometimes, when people are going through hard times many friends tend to shy away. "Whoa- its just too much for me."

"Wah. So emo. Better stay away man."

But those moments, where people share real slices of themselves with you. The moments when they share their vunerabilities. Where they trust you enough to bare their souls. To connect. Human to human. Real conversation. Even if it becomes messy.

Those are moments in life, that I find extraordinarily precious.

I'm not saying be a fool and let someone indulge in a self-pity party. Have them drag you down to their boggy quagmire.

But I am saying, if someone is willing to share their private pain with you. To share their soft underbellies, and be vunerable with you. If you count yourself a friend, then be there for them.

If you can't help- man up and say you aren't in a position to help. If you think they need professional help- suggest it to them.

All too many people these days are just fairweather, "only in the good times" type friends. And its just sad to see.

I have actually captured several photos of myself and different people over the last few years. Friends. Strangers. Moments when I see sadness in their eyes.

Sometimes, it is an instant. They can be sitting in a crowd. Others talking and laughing. And then you see it. That faraway look. Where their mind has strayed somewhere else.

I have snapped a pic sometimes, just seconds before they shoot me a dazzling smile.

Others, have let me snap photos of them while they are talking to me. Sometimes in tears.

Raw emotion. Real. Not always pretty. Is beautiful to me.

Because in life, it is so hard to find something real. That capturing these moments for myself, reminds me we are all equal. Because everybody cries, and everybody hurts. Sometimes.

Many of us don't talk about personal lives. Perhaps it's an Asian thing. We keep our cards close to our chest. And when we are in pain, we are like dogs. Run away. Hide. Trying to nurse our own wounds.

We don't want to bother others.
We don't want to be a burden on other people. Even those near and dear to us.

Be discreet.

Keep the family reputation intact.

Hide it all in.

Recently I posted a montage of me crying which I captioned with the REM song, " Everybody lies. Everybody hurts. Everybody cries. Sometimes."



"Drama Queen. So emo. Attention seeking." - might have crossed some minds.

"Is she ok. What's going on." - might have crossed others.

Some of you even messaged me privately, just to see if I was ok.

And yes. I am ok. I have gone through rough spots, just like you. Or the person sitting next to you on the MRT. There are some days which are good. And some days which are bad.

Your boss who just yelled at you. That pretty model on the cover of a magazine. The taxi driver who just took a wrong turn. All of us are real people, with real lives, and real problems that sometimes, we just feel like we can't share.

As much as I look happy, love clothes, and have awesome friends - there are things in life which do get me down as well. Which serves to remind me, everyone has their own private hell.

And it never ever hurts to ask, "How are you, really?"

Because you never know when it would make a world of difference to someone.









To my friends that I have loved, and lost along the way.
I hope that you have found rest in the land of no tears.
And to you X.
It's been a long time.
You've been missed.
And yes... I remember.

RIP.

The year in briefs

you know.... Just so you can imagine that's all I'm wearing. Hee...

Keeeedding...

A lot of my past has come back to haunt me in the last two months or so. Flashbacks of the things l have done. The decisions l have made. All the choices that have led me to this point.

It has been a strange year this.

It was the first time l realised that l could have a crush. The last time l had one was literally 20 years ago when I was 13!

It was also the year when l realised that sometimes no matter how you love something ... how much you've given , sacrificed, and how much it tears you apart to walk away .... sometimes you just have to trust God has his plans.

l learnt this year that after knowing someone for 10 years ... that you might not know them at all. And despite all their flaws. That.... not everything is as it seems. And you find that you have a newfound admiration, respect and develop genuine affection that just creeps up at you from nowhere.


*** This post was originally written on Jan 1st. New Year's 2013.

The tamed..

“One only understands the things that one tames,” said the fox. “Men have
no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the
shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so
men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me. . .”
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

“The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You're not at all like my rose," he said.
"As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one.
You're like my fox when I first knew him.
He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes.
But I have made a friend, and now he's unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarrassed.
"You're beautiful, but you're empty," he went on. "One could not die for you.
To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you
–the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she's more important
than all the hundreds of you other roses:
because it is she that I have watered;
because it is she that I have put under the glass globe;
because it is for her that I've killed the caterpillars
(except the two or three we saved to become butterflies);
because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled,
or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing.
Because she is MY rose.” 
― Antoine de St. Exupery

"What kind of flower are you," he asked.

"One with thorns," she replied.

Alas. There were too many of them around.

Thank you God for letting me get drenched in the rain... and other small miracles

First of all, let me start out by saying this week didn't really start out really well. .

I had a pretty good weekend all in all. Strange though. Got pulled over by cops on Saturday, which most of my pals would know is highly irregular because I usually don't drink at all. But that story in comedy channel soon.

Meanwhile, Sunday was a good gal's day out.

But Monday.. ooh. I woke up with my eyes so painful and swollen shut.

And it was not a pretty picture.

Yes, this was me straining to open my eyes and this was its max.
No instagram filter can prettify this pic.
Even my doc said, that looks pretty nasty.
2 days MC.

Yup. It was THAT bad.

But, swelling more or less went down after medication, Doc said it was probably some bad allergy, so by night, with better vision, I decided to do something productive with my time. I thought I'd bake.

I took out a glass dish - put it on the stove.. turned on the fire at low and... BAAAAAM!!!
I actually felt the explosion in my face.

The glass dish exploded EVERYWHERE.

In my shock, I only managed to grab a quick pic of the stove.
Everywhere. Glass. On the floor. I was standing in glass even.

It was all over my kitchen. From door to door. And not just in glass bits. There were little tiny splinters and shards on every surface. I even had tiny slivers of glass caught in between the keys of my blackberry (phone). And the strange thing is....

Not one.

Not a single shard was on me, or my hair, or even my clothes! Even though I was pretty sure I had felt it pelt against my face and rain down on me.

I was sort of still in shock so I only got one picture in before my dad came to chase me out and clear the glass. It freaked me out somewhat, that I could have been blinded yet again.

It all felt rather final destination to me.
But I regrouped, and managed to bake in the end... Molten Lava Choc cupcakes.. =)
And they're good.

All the good molten lava chocolatey goodness..... nomnomnom

I figure you'd need some pretty pics after the first shocker.

But, then.. there is today. So ...

This morning I woke up looking slightly less like a puffer fish. But I am on medication.. so, if I were still looking like I got battered with a baseball bat, that would definitely mean there is something to worry about.

My vision isn't the best yet, but, at least I could run an errand right? Went out, picked up my meds... zipped out.... tadah.... RAIN.

Yup. Grrrreat. Just grrreat.

But oh, a cab was about to come by- rushed to the pavement, but a couple was standing in front of me....

And.. no. They let it pass.

"Sorry are you guys catching a cab too?"

"No, we're just crossing the road."

*sara mentally a little peeved* Biang eh, don't want to catch a cab, the cab even slowed down but then you blocked me, then didn't take the cab. &*^@#%&

Never mind, there seemed to be more ahead.

About 15 minutes later, I was still standing there. Two people had already sneaked in front of me, and "cut the queue". What took the cake was 4 girls WITH umbrellas, who I had seen behind me earlier, cut out in front of me at the roadside and get into a cab.

Hello. I am here. Standing here. No umbrella. Getting drenched in the rain lor... (*&@#(#@%

I gave my best bitchy stare as they passed me in the comfort of their cab.

I was getting really, really pissed.

Then this old lady, pushing a bicycle attached to some form of cart walks by me. I made room for her to pass as I tried to hail another cab which mercifully, screeched to a stop, "Where you going Miss? Sorry, cannot la. I'm only going to Clementi."

I looked up the hill, and the auntie had only made a metre or two of progress. But she wasn't at the cart, which was along the road. It was already pretty dark. Raining. She wasn't exactly very visible to oncoming vehicles.

I ran up to her, "Auntie, do you need my help?"

"No, its ok.." she said, and she scurried on.

Miraculously, a cab swerved right in front of me, as a passenger alighted.

I was elated. YAY. Miracle!

"Sorry girl, I cannot. Rushing home," said the cabbie as he pulled away.
I looked at my phone, and just at that second, the dying battery, became DEAD battery. The bb flashed battery too low for radio use.

=(

It was then I spotted the aunty struggling up the hill. The roads were kind of wet and slippery and I'm pretty sure pulling a cart which was filled with things was not making it any easier.

'Ok God, you know what. I'm just... going with my gut here. Not sure what I'm supposed to do. But ... here we go.' - I thought to myself as I primed myself for yet another, what-kind-of-weirdo-is-she type rejection.

"Aunty.. can I help you?"

"No, its ok, its ok..."

Well. Tough luck lil' lady. Cos as stubborn as you may be, you've met your match.

So, despite her protests, I just grabbed the other end of her bike, and helped her push the thing up the hill, and across the road.

I think, we must have looked a sight.

Sara in her hoochie shorts. A blazer, and leopard print Jim Thompson loafers and a leather clutch, pushing a karang guni cart with a skinny, frail looking Aunty who was sporting a plastic bag as her main fashion piece, making a mad dash across the road in the rain.

We made it.

"Do you live around here," asked the Aunty.

"Not really, do you?" I asked, hoping to get some infomation about this mysterious bag lady.

"Yes, I've lived around here for 10 years. I stay at Cantonment, what is your name?" she asked.

"I'm Sara. And you?"

"I'm May."

"Ah, nice to meet you May. So what do you do aunty? You.. collect these things, and sell them?" I asked, still, mildly surprised that she spoke so well. Usually around older folk, I half expect that I would need to switch to Mandarin, bust out my rusty Cantonese, rely on my meagre pasar Melayu, or resort to my ever animated hand gesturing with appropriately timed sounds.

"Well, yes. If people want to buy them. What do you do?"

"I'm a journalist,"

"With the Straits Times?"

"Yes aunty.. do you read it?"

"I used to. Now I don't so much anymore. I do read some of the columns some times. But now I hardly have the time, I go around all day... And at the end of the day when I go back home, I am so tired. Do you usually come around this area?"

"Sometimes.. You? Usually I only come around here for facials... Or to drop my friend home."

It was then I noticed, that despite her full head of white hair, this aunty had some awesome skin. And she proceeded to give me skincare tips. And tell me about her sister, whose husband used to be a journalist at the Straits Times many years ago.

I'm not sure how many cars passed by. Ignoring her presence as she tried to cross a road where they entered to get into the carpark of their swanky premium priced flats.

But, as we waited... we chatted.

"I try not to go too far away. I stay there, at the tallest block. Cantonment tower."

"Ah, ok.." I said as aunty and I pushed the cart under another shelter near the bus stop.

"Ok, I am going to look around here now," aunty said. Her way of telling me to scram I guess.

"Have you eaten aunty? Can I get you something hot to drink? Its so cold today."

"No no no, its ok. I ate before I came out today. I had something already."

"Ok. How can I contact you?" I asked.

"I stay there. Blk __. #xx-yy", she said.

"And your phone number?" I asked.

Aunty looked uncomfortable. And slightly suspicious. I forgot I do have weird squinty eyes that probably make me look like I have serial killer potential.

"I don't usually pick up my phone. By the time I get home its usually so tired and so late, I don't have strength to talk," she said.

"It's ok. Here is my namecard aunty. My handphone number is on it. You can call me any time you need help."

"Ok. Thank you."

"Call me any time aunty may, it was nice meeting you," I said as I shook her hand.

For some reason. My phone resurrected and this is when I tweeted this.

But, that was not the end yet.

She went to rummage around bins, and yet another empty cab, with light on etc, drove right by me as I tried to flag it.

"YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME," I thought to myself. Well. Ok. I did voice it out too. Softly. I didn't want people thinking I was cray cray.

Then I noticed a 7-11.

For some reason, I just dashed in. Grabbed a hot chocolate, and two paus. One tau sar, and one lian yong.

Just as I was paying.. I saw May wave at me from outside the doors, bidding me goodbye.

"Wait!" I yelled, as I grabbed the goods and ran out.. "This is for you,"

"No, why you give me if you buy for yourself?" aunty asked as she kept trying to push the food back to me.

"I didn't," I said, as I stuffed the paus under a plastic sheet in the basket of her bicycle. "This is hot ok aunty, so be careful, " I said as I pressed the hot choc into her hands, and pretended I needed to rush off before she protested more, "I bought it for you! Bye aunty May!"

"Thank you," she said, as she beamed gratefully and I smiled back at her, happy that she finally accepted the food.

She wheeled off. Pushing her cart.

And what do you know. Less then one minute later, a cab pulls up right in front of me. And just as I get in, I saw aunty with her cart, safely on the other side of the road.

Indeed.

Everything happens for a reason.
And everything, happens in God's time.


In two days. I learnt what it was to be truly blind.
While physical blindness, is truly a scary thing.
Emotional and spiritual blindness... That, is true poverty.



Peace.

xx
sara

Where I am

So this might sound like an existential question. And it probably is as well.

But, let's not delve into the deep end right now. *grin*

Here, is where I will officially say: I am at STCommunities !

It's a brand new website that is really pretty cool. Its a portal dedicated to entertainment, but, its interactive and built on a social media platform model, so that ANYONE can post news or infomation, not just us journalists. So its actually highly interactive too!

You have a short film you want to share- here's the place you can do it!

Have a gig you want to promo, send us a video, shout your deets.

Are you thespian and have behind the scenes photos from a play you are working on? Yup!!! Here's your zone.

You can also post movie reviews, post music you like listening to by artists or DJ's others have yet to discover. ANYTHING!!! As long as its related to Movies, TV, Music or Shows (arts- which would include dance etc)

And its pretty easy too. No signing up or accounts needed.

Just... login with twitter or FB.. on the stcommunities.straitstimes.com site.

For those who are blur... its on top of the contribution bar la dey..

Then you choose what type of post you would like to do- text, quote, photo, audio or video.

Here, I'm clicking on photo:

Now, if you haven't yet logged in because you might be a blur person like myself, you'll get another login prompt..

And then you're in..

You should then get a form like this...

Yup- you write your article INTO the portion that is called CAPTION.

And then, uploading pics, is pretty simple. Choose file/ browse.

(yes, you can caption all your photos. Feel free to be as funny and witty as you like. And give credit where its due!)

AND, you can add more pics to create a gallery too.

Just click submit post and VOILA!

You're done!!!

You'll get a notification email that your account is linked to your twitter or facebook thank you for your submission... and when it is published....

An email will be sent to you congratulating you on your article!

If you want to contribute a video... Here's how.

This is how it would look like when the post is done!



A quote post would look something like that..

And for you musicians or DJ's out there...

An audio post could be just your thing if you want to promo a new podcast/ mix you've done.

And.. this.. is how it would look when its published.

Pretty easy, no?


We also have a partner program that will be launching soon, where partners will have their photo/logo displayed on the main website in a partner box, where readers can click through to the website of your choice.

There are 3 different types of partners:

A community partner: A company or organisation

A personality partner: An artiste, singer, musician, artist, dancer, actor, director, celebrity, rapper- anything goes.

And a blogger partner: Preferably a blogger who blogs about Entertainment like movies/music etc.


Considering the ST website gets 60 to 80 million views in a month, and we tweet and facebook out cool new content to fans, its a good opportunity for you to blast out to a market outside of your existing fanpage/twitter profile.

You can also post movie reviews...
Like this blogger Eternality Tan, who reviews pretty regularly, and now I actually look forward to his posts.

Best part. ANYONE can do it.



But, if you are interested in becoming a partner, just let me know.
You can always contact me on my office email at saraannk@sph.com.sg

Meanwhile peeps..
Let social media rock on.



BOOOOYA! Peace out!

make animated gifs like this at MakeAGif

An SG fashion fan's love song to the rain

The view from my window.. this morning

It's raining..

It's pouring...

We'd all rather be snoring..

But an SG fashionista jumps out of bed

Thinking, "Oh YAY! It's Fall/Winter!" instead..

And "What fab faux fur can I wear this morning?"

-Sara Ann K,  Thurs Oct 18th 2012

What a fabulous morning don't you think?
I know its one of those.. "Iwouldratherbeathomeinbed" weather days.
And, while it is awesome to snuggle up to ma' man  Mumble..
Having a real live man would be tons better.

So... Any way.
Rain in Singapore is awesome. It means that instead of having tootsie-freezing temperatures in air-conditioned offices, temperatures will drop to an even more arctic degree!
Ever the perfect excuse to trot out all fashion loving peep's fall winter gear that we have stashed away. Yes. I know you have that faux fur, or quilted jacket, that ordinarily would make your armpits cry if you even attempted to wear them out in Singapore humidity.

But when it rains...
Oh..
What bliss...



The perfect soundtrack for today..

Today's fab faux fur outfit 

Glamorous office toilet shot right there...

Ice and Leather... on my right hand... heh.

Had to wear my snowglobe ring. So at least- There wld be some snow
=)

was brought to you.. PRACTICALLY FREE!!!
Just cos I'm Chindigga like that...
*gangsta sign*

Courtesy of (well.. mostly my sister.. heh. Cos I "borrowed" quite a few things la... Not all mind you. And I did buy some of the stuff FOR her. Kindly refer to below.)

Outfit-
Faux fur+suede vest - Forever 21: Bought for my sis at $20 last year
White 3/4 sleeve top : random- my sisters
Skinny jeans: No brand bought from Chinatown at $15 like.. 10 years ago
Leather "riding" Boots: my sister's =P From Dolce Vita
Right hand:
Cheetah knuckleduster ring: A cheeeapie from Thailand
Cluster bracelets: borrowed from sis (bought from accessorise like... AGES ago)
Fendi Bag: I bought for my sister's 28th birthday


The perpetually on me accessories that I never take off on my left hand:

Snow globe ring: from the now defunct Curious Teepee
Yellow Topaz ring: from the now defunct Poh Kong Chye
Blue Sapphire "Blessings" bracelet: about $80 from Kevin Seah
BVLGARI coin bracelet: my sis's bday gift to me this year =D
Keyboard: courtesy of SPH Newscentre

Yup.. raining at work.
And I was trying to camwhore a cool shot when intern walked in
from the loo wondering whatdahell I was doing.
So Sara got paiseh. And stopped. heh.

Can I also just make a QUICK mention to how cute guys look when they are in army uniform?
*blissful sigh*

heh...



xx
sara ann k

IF...

IF only....

IF I knew then...

IF you had...

IF we tried.....

IF.

Somehow.. The word "If" on its own, seems to suggest wistfulness. Regret. Longing for something that is past.

An interesting Christian commentary on the word "if" can be found
here

For a long time.. One of my fave poems was "If you forget me" by Pablo Neruda.

Even though it speaks of longing.. it speaks of a love that is conditional.

Well, now, 

if little by little you stop loving me 

I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 

you forget me 

do not look for me, 

for I shall already have forgotten you. 

And yet, it is not conditional.. willingly. Because the writers true intentions, are to run freely with his love. To let go.

But 
if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine. 

My love feeds on you love beloved.

If.

A love based on fear. Fear that the love will not see reciprocation.

Yesterday though, a dear friend and I were having a long conversation, and he reminded me of a poem that I haven't seen since I was 18.

A beautiful, beautiful didactic poem written by Rudyard Kipling.

In it, "IF", becomes something beautiful. Something powerful. Something filled with potential and promise.

Something, that come become truly mighty.

So thank you...

For sharing this "If" with me. 

Because you made me believe in the beauty of "If".

=)