Today I took to realizing that I am in fact getting a little older by the day and come next week, I hit a brand new milestone to my life. So I questioned myself the other night. What have I been doing all these years? Have I been enjoying my life? Have I been happy? What would I do in the closest future of which I could taste? And I realized that I've never changed since I was 7.

This is a gift from a friend called Daniel whom I met from National Service. It was a gift that reminded me that no matter where I head in the future, this is what I've always wanted to do. To take flight. It didn't really matter where I took flight, I just wanted to fly. No, I don't mean that I want to be superwoman and wear my panties outside. Why would you want to see my panties wtf. I mean I want to be nothing more than a stewardess (Also known as cabin crew in the modern day lingo) to an airline.


Derived between 1930 - 1935, a stewardess is also known as a female flight attendant and attends to the comforts of passengers on a ship, train or bus. In my case, an airplane. Granted, I've never flown a lot of times before with my experiences of being on a flight not exceeding 10 times but there's just that something in the joy of being up in air that I feel. Then we get a little more realistic, of course. The lot of my friends have decided to become really cool stuff like accountants, dentists, business graduates and doctors but here I am sticking out with an aspiration to fly. A waitress. A slave in air.

People asked me why I wanted such a job to put myself to torture. Imagine the hours in air when you're away from your family and when your skin breaks from the different air pressure so much so you'll age quicker. Imagine the horrors when a passenger decides that your butt is the right butt that they want to grope and you CANNOT regardless how angry you are, kick them in the groin. You've got to smile and act as though you liked the hand on your butt. Imagine the jet lag you'll feel when you've flown from the Singapore to New York or Hong Kong to London. All the hours that you can't sleep while your passengers are snoring thousands of feet off air. Why be a waitress for the rest of your life?

And my answer is pretty simple. It's a passion. I've always believed in looking for a job that you know you will never wake up with a sulk to. I hated being a promoter and there was nothing more that I wanted than to call in sick. That's really not something that I want to do for the rest of my life- to be spiteful of my job. I want to know for sure that what I'm picking today is something that I will like for the rest of my working life until I decide one day that I'm too old to get my butt groped. And being a stewardess is a job I know I will enjoy.

Sure, my hours are long, jet lag is probably hell and I'm bound to meet some crazy demanding passengers. Sure, I'll miss my parents, brother (and sister-in-law to be *coughs*) and my bed full of stuffed toys. Sure, I'll miss my friends and the freedom I have to be in deep talks with them because we're all just a phone call away. But knowing that I am achieving my dreams and I'm creating memories that will last a lifetime really does make up for all that. After all, I can always come home to sleep on off days while spending time with my family and friends on special occasions.

So why exactly am I writing this? It's actually a reminder to myself that no matter what happens when I do take flight, remember that it is the passion that drove me there. Remember that it was the love for such a beautiful job that put me sky high, so much so I would never let it go even if I were offered a million bucks. Maybe we'll talk when the offer is 50 million. And remember that through it all, I've had friends who thought I would never have done it and others who told me that they've got my back. Remember that my family has always been here for me and this choice I've made since the age of 7. And someday when I'm reading this; through whatever gadget it may be; 30,000 feet off the air in a stewardess uniform smiling. I hope my butt is safe.

Here's a silly self-taken photo on a vain day when my hair was still long. I think I miss it just that little bit. But it'll grow. Soon. You're welcome.


I did say it was very vain right? Yeah I did. Bye.