Episode 82: Ngoc's Sounds

My blog has been a mix of both written word and sound.

Let me share you the sound bits then. 

Below is a collection of "sounds", mostly from abroad in Singapore when I had this damn beautiful piano to sing along to and a more recent recording. The trend is clear; your girl's a Swiftie. The list below is out of order because I feel like if you listened to it this order, you'd get a lot of contrasting experiences.

Feel free to listen to it out of order as well. :) 

Appetizer: 

Ed Sheeran ft. Taylor Swift - "The Joker and the Queen" [3/6/2022]

    This song is super sweet, brought me so much joy throughotu my time in Singapore. Whenever I shared it with folks, it makes people want to waltz. Especially, a certain Miss Neha Gupta out on the Sky Garden, waltzing her ghost partner. It's easy on the ears, as is my voice. I remember listening to this song and thinking, "I can totally sing this." And woah did I want this too. To be somebody's queen ;). 

Lighter Appetizer:

Sylvia Plath - "Bath" [4/11/2022]

    Sylvia Plath is a literary god. I loved every word I've ever read. This woman makes me quiver. I feel the urge, the need to read aloud everything she's every written. "Bath" is silly beans and the best of beans, but may there be no bath after it.

Experimental: 

Taylor Swift - "Carolina" [7/2/2022]

    My "gooOOOoooh!" in this one really shines bleb :P. Could not stop replaying this song for weeks -- it's too badass in a sad white cowgirl way. This song is so good with build up. Singing it, you start with whispers and you get louder and louder until the ending when the facts drop. Experimental because it's not quite sad. It's got a sad fighter vibe, which makes it the perfect track for "Where the Crawdads Sing" movie that just came out. Time to sin. 

Main Dish:

Imagine Dragons - "Whatever it Takes" [3/5/22]

    This is my badass bitch song in the club. Whenever I'm in pain, I belt this out. Healed. If there was a character development arc for me, which right now, yes, it's totally happening -- this is it. I truly feel like Lionel Messi, like I'm Messi training for World Cup 2026 in HOUSTON TX HOUSTONNNN. Or all the League games I played to this song on repeat. Carrying everyone so hard. :) 

    Except I'll do whatever it takes to carry HARDER. :D

2nd to last dish: 

Taylor Swift - "All Too Well" [1/30/2022]

    Have always wanted to sing this song when I first heard it in 2012. Took it out on the piano on this one. And damn is it so descriptive. All the attitude changes, key new details. Music can inform movies too because it felt like I was in one, every time I bop to this. My suitemates of Singapore can attest to what happens in our small living room when this song gets on. PfT. Hahahaha. And that's the memory I will always have with this song. Not that I was a little sad singing it. But that's the thing about meeting the people who will become your really good friends -- they force you to make new memories with things that had once made you feel something different.

    Hearing this song makes me feel warm instead now. How could us girls not dance, belt out every word like poetry written for us? 

Dessert: 

Hospital Playlist - "Aloha" [1/30/2022]

    Closest thing to dessert I could give you. This is my walk-down-the-aisle song! I've had this opinion for a year now and though I can't sing it yet, I can play it and play it at my wedding, all short thick legs pressing the foot pedal and serenading someone for the rest of my life. :) Unless there's divorce heh. #normalizedivorcesdespitethefactyouserenadedthefuckoutofhimforyears

    But by then, I'd be singing. I want to sing and play in front of everyone I love. "Aloha" is not just a clear-cut love song [though, yes, technically it IS]. It's a song about the celebration of life and all the people who make you want to sit down, cheer with a glass of wine, and dream about that beautiful future you'll have ahead together. My kids shall play with your kids. heh.

The End: 

Well you've made it to the end of my noises!!! My sounds! 

I hope you enjoyed and might come back for more. :) 

Your girl, 

Ngoc

P.S. I'm in DC. Listening to a younger version of myself sing and god is it nostalgic. I'll be back in Houston soon folks! :) 

Episode 81: Shield

Someone I love answered his own question: “what makes a good leader?” 

I didn’t hesitate. Like usual, I’m too quick. I don’t think. It's an answer I realized from practical experience: "Someone who brings out the best in others and makes everyone feel valued. When people feel that way, they'll be more likely to give their best because someone sees their best."

But he answered: “what if the organization is really really big though? How does anyone get personable with everyone to do that? I think a good leader is a good shield for anything that happens."

I've never heard an answer like that before. 

When I heard his answer, I didn't think I got it at first. Not truly.

He quickly explains that a leader has everyone's backs, even if they don't know everyone personally. They're the defender, the crafter of words and strategies to keep the train from wreck. 

I understood immediately what being a good leader was like after sitting in on some of the most exciting calls at my State Department internship. A good leader, I realized, had the words for any season or change in weather. They're the front lines holding all the responsibility, representing the best efforts of everyone who work for them.

There will be moments of pause, but never show a sign of struggle. 

Though we're only human, a good leader doesn't even show how the weather has weathered them. 

Perhaps it's because I've just begun, so even my descriptions are naive. But the civil servants who work at State truly are defenders. Practiced in the craft. 

I've used my words mainly to tell people how my day honestly went, write descriptive clouds of thoughts, or sell myself in a professional setting. Or it's me trying to convince myself I'm worth a lot today. 

Either way, a good leader is only as good as the knowledge they know. The adaptability that comes from all that weathering and challenge. The edge sharpened by practice, and dulled by lack of use.

I say this all to say that I want many of these qualities for myself, not to be a leader myself. These qualities -- I envy. 

I'm doing my best out here at the State, where it always feels like I have to sprint in order to stay in place.

Fight no one but my own sense of hunger. Am I hungry enough? To trek beyond anything I've ever set foot on? 

I'm in a land I don't know. A land I'm not familiar with, or comfortable with, or particularly happy in. 

Yet why does it slowly feel like... like I'll be absolutely okay? Because things are damn hard right now in alllll the professional development ways. 

What I haven't shared is just how intimidating it can be to sit across folks who are absolutely hungry about their dreams. It's inspiring and moving. I want my own train to dash toward some tunnel only I know about. I want that surety they have. 

But here I am -- more and more unsure. At first tipping the precipice from international into domestic policy. Now tipping back into foreign relations as I realize the direct impact I can have as an intern at the State. It's... thrilling. 

I get it now. 

I didn't get it last week, which was my half-way point in my internship. 

But I get it now. And though it's not too late -- time is limited now to realize the impact I'll have. 

I have a better idea of the kind of person I want to become. 

A shield. A really goOD meat shield for missions that I'm proud to protect.

A defender. Welp. 

That sounds so so far from who I actually am right now. I feel like a wreck with acting words and parts. Given a readout of what to say and do in most situations but bubbling in the still water as I struggle for the last bout of confidence to function in the turbulence of my own mind. Pushing to swim up and up, legs as strong as they can be, but still in plae. 

I have Buddha by my side. The blood of my ancestors in me. And a new friend I made at work today, eating ramen and finishing with boba. It's really the people I know that make this place a lot more cooler.

I know who I am. And I play this my way. I don't have to fight as hard as others. I navigate this with the unique knowledge I know and the skills I do have. 

I'm a good writer. :) 

And woah, does that count for something.

I JUST WANT TO BE BETTER AT THINKING AGHGHGHGHGH

You probably don't get what that means --- but have you gone on hours and hours and realized, what was the last original thought I had in my head? 

:( That's me. In a nutshell right now. How am I going to defend anything with ANY knowledge if my mind is a white board much of the day? When I let work, lack of sleep, possibly lack of nutrients, deprive me of real ass creativity? 

FUCK THIS NOOOOO :( 

I got. tihs. heah

P.S. thank you man i love. You’re not a liar after all :) 

Episode 80: I Fell in Love on a Subway

I did. 

Haha, I never thought I was capable of something like this. 

Perhaps it's not a word as strong as love. It's just that my heart felt like it was going to burst, looking at him, knowing what he did. 

His small action told me every important thing I needed to know. 

I will never meet him again. But if I ever did, it is wishful but perhaps, I might recognize him. That's too darn romantic. A set up set to fail.

I was on the subway to see my friend. I had earlier doubled back home in the middle of my 1.25 hour journey to my friend's place for a sleepover. A trip back for my forgotten laptop charger. 

I was a little and a lot frustrated but I knew that I'd need it. 

When I was finally back on track, I boarded the subway that would be a straight shot to her place. Sitting there, I pondered how life has been. 2 weeks into my lonesome stay in DC, I've been anything but lonesome. 

My host is one of the most companionable of people. I never feel alone when I'm with her, even though I do spend more than a few days at a time holed in my homestay, locked to my laptop. She's lived through so much -- her wisdom and self-assuredness push through to me. Her spirit living outside her body at times. Every idea I thought I had, she entertains. She whips in many great stories that ask for more from me. "What do you have to give and share once my story is done?" her eyes seem to ask. Keeping me rooted to the wooden floor with her words. With what's happened and what will happen, even after I leave, she haunts me. 

Her presence, even when she's absent, is everywhere in this house. There is too much personality here to feel left alone. 

I want a home like that. I want a space that blurs the line between when I was there and when I've left.

I've been alone, but have not yet felt lonely. Or as lonely as I thought I'd feel. 

My host, along with some of the friends I have here in DC and friends planning to come visit me in DC -- I've been kept. And that's a damn good thing.

I've realized that I'd only feel loneliness if my friendships weren't already strong. Distance can do little damage if substance is truly there. The heart is there. Perhaps this is a small segway but that means long distance relationships can work if my long distance friendships have. 

I've always known this. Even in Singapore, despite the distance and time, I was always excited to hear back from friends across the world. My heart would wander back to folks home and the mere urge to see them all again with more and more stories to tell would just be. 

Freedom is scary if you don't have security. And I had a lot of security to keep me company and rooted and un-lonely thus far. 

It's been a month of summer. 

A month alone, but not lonely. On my own, but warm. 

Sometimes too damn tired to feel lonely at all. 

I find myself busy cooking, too tired to cook but cooking anyways or I won't have dinner, legs all sore as I stand there cleaning all the dishes I've made. Taylor Swift's "Carolina" would play. I'd want to watch "Where the Crawdads Sing" again and I'd sing again, "it's between me, the sand and the sea; Carolina knows."

I sing a lot now. 

I sing plenty to myself. I sing plenty as I make or think of anything and I sound good. I sound like I know what I'm doing. Like I wrote the words myself.

At night as I lay in bed, some brief thoughts that would cross my mind are, what I have to do tomorrow. What meals am I having? Who do I have to call to remind them I love them? Or like them? 

I'd be on my back at the end of a long day and feel SO good. All clean, smelling like coconut soap across my arms and elbows, while making my pillows smell like vanilla from my shampoo. A long breath would escape and everything held in is freed. 

I am a bird on its back. Wings spread wide. Tired. Of finding food.

Of making food.

Designing whole days and many weeks around when I'm getting groceries and how many 2 hour slots I might have to cook. 

I'm a slow cook. And my food is too mediocre to enjoy, but I push it down. Sauce it up with newfound sauces like Thai peanut sauce and what Manal introduced to me herself, Peri-Peri sauce.

I'm an unpaid intern making every dollar count, yet I burn through too many dollars on ingredients for Smoothies, and too much money on meat. 

My proteins are expensive.

I'm rambling right now, I know. I'm supposed to tell you how I fell in love on a subway.

And if it makes any sense to still be in love with a stranger I'll never meet again.

Well, love isn't infinite. 

So I don't still love that young man on the subway. 

But my heart loved him a bit. For a day. I loved him for a day.

And I was all too happy to share with my friends about it. "I did that crazy thing that people feel in movies. Why, yes. I fell in love in a hopeless place." 

Perhaps it's how my days have been feeling like melting soaps or coconut white chocolates where the white coconut parts are unfoundable among the white chocolate parts. Little is distinguishable, yet it tastes darn good. 

My days have been good.

I'm not sleeping enough. Staying up late talking or playing or being afraid. 

Being afraid in general.

But not afraid to fall in love.

That's silly isn't it? I've been hurt by love, a lot. I've been disappointed, yet I've wanted it all over again. 

But it was never love I really wanted.

It was always to be wanted.

Simply it. 

To be someone's gem and then have the chance to decide if being their gem meant anything to me. If I like being their shiny thing and if I'm no longer their shiny thing or I no longer feel shiny to them -- I leave the love I had. I've left the "loves" I had. 

I'm cruel that way. I'm as sharp as I am shiny. And I'm mean when I want to be. And when I have your attention, I know how to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you. But I know how... and, sometimes, I let it burn. And I let it go. 

So perhaps, for people like me, people who are more dangerous in love than out of love, to fall in love with strangers.

Where I can't harm a soul.

Perhaps this stage of my life, I'm not meant for anyone. 

I'm just meant for me. I'm just meant to be alone and not feel alone, be alone but still warm and happy, be alone and know that I hurt more than I heal -- to be as I am.

And it'd be a lie if I said I wasn't doing well. 

He's probably doing well too. The young man I fell in love with.

I had my green Hawaii-like halter top on and my cute jean shorts. Hair tied up in my fattest of ponytails. A big bag of sleepover necessities -- my flip flops sitting on the top. 

I didn't notice him at first. Just a smaller, lanky frame entering with an electric scooter, helmet still on. Sitting where no one could really see him. I found myself noticing him. Perhaps because his hair was black and his skin was olive and perhaps I thought I found a bit of myself in him across a subway full of people who didn't look like me.

I was listening to the same Vietnamese love ballad on repeat, trying my best to romanticize my own life and how the journey ahead was going to be awesome. 

Later, a woman dressed in grays and browns that had browned from time and wear walked from behind him with a sign. Up to his seat, she held the sign in her hands to him, her head bent over and clumps of hair falling forward over her face. He read the sign quickly. I could tell. His eyes moved faster than any eyes I've seen before. After finishing, he looked up to her just as quickly, and respectfully replied in soft, "Of course, of course. Yes. Um... here." 

Everything this man does is quick. Quick reading. Quick response. Quick hands into his pockets. And he struggles a bit with his wallet but he pulls out a 20 and respectfully hands places it into her hands. 

She thanks him happily and leaves the subway at the next stop, and I found myself, being a creep. Looking up at him several times. Sizing him up. Wondering more about him. 

And my heart simply knew. That if I were to want any quality from someone in the future it is this; kindness when no one else is looking. 

It's all I'll ever need to know. 

Among other things haha. 

But it's the biggest part of the pie. He simply caught my eye. 

He was so speedy and ready, and perhaps, yes... perhaps privileged enough to be in a position to give someone else a 20 dollar bill -- needless to say; my heart pounded.

And I didn't know how capable I'd ever be at love again after forever -- but this one random ass guy reminded me what it felt like again. 

Subway is not the place for the best loves.

It's not longlasting love.

It's a simple reaffirmation that good men exist, haha. 

I mean, Singapore did that already. But let's do it again. 

I'm doing great by the way. :) JUST TIRED IM TIRED OF COOKING AND WASHING DISHES AT THE SAME TIME OR IM RUNNING OUT OF DISHES AGHGGGGGGG ;((