nothing but a number

“i’m not thinking about next year,” i told her when she asked me of my plans. i used to think in years, set goals in years, tell myself next year is the year. but that’s not me anymore.

it’s all just a way of keeping track, but instead of time as my gauge, i’m using events, those insignificant things that happen everyday. the ones we often look past. opportunity is a funny thing, it turns perception into acceptance. there’s no use being angry at the things you can’t change. the moments that melt away after an hour or two. i’ve found they just become added to the list of day to day events. apparently it’s called life.

this year is no different to next year. it’s only numbers on a calendar. 

but i won’t lie, i’m looking forward to 2012. the new seasons, the career moves, holding my first niece or nephew, seeing my brother marry, my parents live a glowing life, falling in love.

if i want to make plans, set goals, think ahead, i’ll do it all today. it’s day by day starting now. there’s no point waiting any longer. today is as good as any other. i’m just taking it as it comes. 

my friend jessie

hi. i hope your day is filled with happiness. you know you deserve it. so much.

in all the years i’ve known you, not once have you been in someone’s way or stepped on someone’s toes. not once have you tried to be the only person who matters. you’re considerate and caring and honest. and that’s what makes you special.

it seems to me, jessie, you’re a constant. and although we don’t speak everyday, i feel we have this comfortable kind of friendship. one that will stay steady. i’m so happy when you’re happy. i love: hearing about your life and all those things you speak so passionately about; that we’re different and we’re the same; that you teach me things; your ability to laugh at yourself. wholeheartedly.

i wish you a wonderful life.

you’re so appreciated jessie.

those decisions we make.

you are fully aware it’s not the right thing to do, but you do it anyway…i did it anyway.

i’m sorry.

i miss you, you know. it seems so silly. (i imagine you scoff.)

but the truth isn’t always easy to speak, especially when you know the truth is simply admitting you were wrong. and that i was.

let’s just go back to the way things were. you and i. that special thing we were. occasional, unwavering friends who understood just that.


she’s living and working in paris. breathing/experiencing france, eating/speaking french, being a parisian. what a special girl, what an amazing opportunity.

i’ve known tessa since i was a kid. we grew up dancing and being little girls, praying for tutus in our end of year concerts. 

she started at bond before i did and when my time came to make the move to university, she met me at a coffee shop to give me advice, warn me of the fun and tell me all the things i desperately needed to know. she said i needed a nice quilt cover set. trivial but brilliant. 

from that advice came greater advice. and now, when i need an honest, brutal, realistic opinion, i ask tessa. she grounds me, allays my paranoia, tells me i’m ridiculous – or right. she is full of the wisdom, kindness and patience of a friend you have for life.


it’s funny how the closer you get to something, the further away it feels. i think they call it relativity (good one, einstein). well, it’s now one sleep until the coolest kid i know lands in a jet plane in the middle of the pacific ocean on this little island they call maui.

we will eat food til we’re bursting, drink $3 mai tais and lay on the beach and bike and walk and swim and lap up maui living. oh, and i guess she’ll take some photos too. i mean, that’s why she’s coming. but all work and no play…? no way.


i saw another friend of mine today. one i haven’t seen in two and a half years. 

after i left, she left. and we didn’t leave one another on great terms. so when i saw her again after those years, i was surprised, yet relieved, to see she is the same wonderful person she always was. she laughs at my stupid jokes, my stories that never go anywhere. she makes me feel at ease, myself.

it’s strange to think things happen like they do. i don’t have regrets. it’s one ideal i pride myself on. no matter what, everything that happens – good or bad – harbours a reason in your life. it leads you to where you are at this exact point in time. and i quite like the place i’m at.

if i had the choice to go back and change anything in my life, i wouldn’t. no matter how bad, cringe-worthy or upsetting a moment was, or still is, it lends itself to lessons learned. lessons about yourself, others, life. you don’t experience anything without learning something from it. 

i’ve learned a lot about myself from my friends. from experiences we’ve shared, fights we’ve had, gossip we’ve purged. and i appreciate every lesson so far.

sure, there a decisions i could have made that wouldn’t have left me in trouble/embarrassed/hungover. but where’s the fun in that? i’m not a perfect person. i haven’t led a perfect life. but i never make the same mistake twice and i stand by my decisions. i guess my “no regrets” life is an extension of my stubborn attitude. i won’t be blamed for a life lived. and i definitely won’t blame myself or my judgement. 

the friends in my life, whether they’ve been there for years, months, come in and out or are permanent fixtures, have all contributed to the person i am. i am proud to know you all.

i’m glad sarah’s back. even if only for a little while.