feels like there're supernatural forces leading me to joining this competition.

Happened to have friends who were invited to the press conference of the contest last Monday.

These same friends are going to lend me the latest video camera that will help save time when it comes to transferring files from the camera to the computer for editing.

And so what if I have lousy editing equipment? I will have access to either a) Final Cut Pro, one of the best DV editing software to exist, or b) another software that my friends were given (really, press folks have all sorts of privileges).

In all honesty, I was still having some hesitation, having never actually written a proper script before. I have a storyline, but having a story is entirely different from an actual movie script.

Today, I had lunch with a former scriptwriter from Mediacorp.

He has since agreed to help me with my script, and get me in touch with people who will have all the equipment needed (eg. lights, sound, etc) to produce a short film for the competition. Not to mention the fact that he has a friend who just so happens to have full video editing software lying unused in his house somewhere.

Now all I need to do is actually get down and write the story.

Oh, as well as source for actors.

Volunteers, anyone?

I did something painful today. No, not that.

I wrote an email that I'm not even sure I should have written:

Dear Dr. Mika,

Thank you so much for your email. Of course I remember you.

I am extremely flattered with the offer and in all honesty, would have snapped up this offer had it been given me a few weeks back. The job description sounds really interesting and I could imagine myself loving the job.

Unfortunately, I am no longer able to accept the offer. After several long days of praying and pondering, I believe that God has someone else who would be much better for the job. It really pains me to turn down this offer, but I think God has something up his sleeve for both Mission College and me. Please accept my sincerest aplogies for any inconvenience caused.

I wish Mission College all the best in finding THE person for the job and I trust that the person will be a real asset to you and the team.

My warmest regards,
Melody

So well, I have turned down the job at Mission College in Thailand. The one and only job offer I've got so far that offers me security. The job is gone. For some other lucky soul to accept.

The position with Adventist World Radio (AWR) in Singapore is not quite finalised yet, and knowing Adventist organisations, that probably means the position will come up within the next 5 years.

I'm back at Citibank, working long crazy hours for an organisation with an aim I don't believe in.

My wings clipped. My spirit diminished. My soul sobbing.

All these to save up for a future with no uncertainty. A life without security. To be where my dreams will come true.

Let's just hope I'm not chasing pipe dreams. Or look back to this day in regret, or extreme poverty.

I return home to an egg shortage.

Yup. Eggs. Chicken eggs to be precise.

Apparently, due to the bird flu epidemic in Malaysia, Singapore has stopped importing chicken and eggs.

The price of eggs has skyrocketed and today, my mom told me that each individual was only allowed to purchase a dozen eggs from the supermarket.

We have resorted to rationing for eggs.

Am I the only one who sees the humour in this?

isn't it amazing how much people just settle into their comfort zones?

In January, upon arrival in Singapore, I was determined to return to England.

In August, after almost 8 months back home, I suddenly felt an inertia. The thought of leaving on this trip seemed somewhat daunting.

I've been back in England for almost a month now, and once again, I am experiencing a reluctance to leave.

Granted, the main reason has to do with the fact that I really dread saying goodbye to my friends, but I know part of the reason is also because I've gotten comfortable and found somewhat of a routine (which involves alternating nights at different friends' houses, babysitting, fighting for the bathroom with 9 other housemates, eating, sleeping, shopping, some travelling, chatting and doing absolutely nothing).

In 15 minutes, I'll be making my way to the airport for home, and I have to admit the voice inside of me is screaming for me to stay. On the other hand, I want to go home. I miss my room, my own bathroom, my family, my friends. And it never ceases to amaze me, how the precious people I meet constantly welcome me with open arms back into their lives as if nothing has changed.

If only life were less complex. If only I would stop making it worse by leaving a piece of my heart in different parts of the world.

If only Jesus would return soon...

someone knew what they were saying when they came out with the quote "when it rains, it pours". I am in such a fix now I have no idea where to turn.

Currently, here are the options I have:

1. Citibank

The job which we have in mind is for APB23. Thus in term of timeline, this should be a 2-mth project....(the exact duration, we are still checking and hope to know the details by early next week). In the interim, if you are keen, we shan't talk to the agency in sourcing for the person for us. BUT will need to know when you are coming back should u be interested.....!!!

2. Mission College in Thailand

I have just spent today putting together a position description for aPR/Promotions Officer. Are you still interested? We are almost ready to employ.

3. AWR in Singapore

I also wanted to tell you that yesterday I received an email from Akinori Kaibe, the AWR Region Director for Asia and he was inquiring as to whether you might be available to work in the AWR office in Singapore. As I understand it, he needs someone with special skills to work with their program distribution system for Asia.

4. My heart's desire

You can stay in the UK for two years as a working holidaymaker, from the date you were first given permission to enter the UK in this category. There are no restrictions on the type of work you can do as a working holidaymaker. There is also no restriction on the amount of work that you can do (part-time or full-time), but we do expect you to take a holiday during your stay. If you are given permission to enter as a working holidaymaker you may also be allowed to switch into Work Permit employment after one year in the UK.

Strange that the one option that I would like to take the most is the one with the least security, the one with the most number of unknowns (will I actually get a job? Will I be able to afford living in the UK? Will I be able so support myself?).

Goodness knows how much I want to live and work in the UK. Not for the rest of my life, but at least for a few more years. Yet, it is filled with so many uncertainties. The option is there, but it is what requires the biggest amount of faith.

Will I regret my decision if I went with option 4? I'll be giving up job security, steady income, a guaranteed comfortable life. No, it will not be luxurious, but the worries I will have is going to be considerably less. At least I would not have to worry if I can afford my next meal. At least home will be close, so so close.

What do I do? Where do I go? What should I think? What does God want for me?

And God is strangely silent...

you know you've been a nomad way too often when you have absolutely no idea where you are after waking up from a nap.

in the state of semi-consciousness, my brain struggled to register just where I was sleeping. I fought to open my eyes to find out and when I did, I still had no idea where I was. My mind said Germany, yet I was dreaming of my friends in Australia. A friend from Germany suddenly appeared in my dream, but yet my mind told me I had to go home from London.

I was dreaming of the Tower Bridge, of my friends from all over the world, of strange unknown places but yet, I had no idea where I was. I fought to wake up, yet I couldn't and I honestly had no idea where I was.

It was only after about 10 minutes of dreaming, wondering and struggling, did I manage to successfully pry my eyes open, have it stay open and then finally realise I was in England.

I really need to find a place to grow roots in soon.

on another note...went off to Hampton Court Palace yesterday with Glauber (my accidental housemate from Brazil. None of us even actually belong in the house, but I was at least visiting friends who lived in the house. He was...well...I'm not entirely sure how he is even connected to the house, seeing that his friend who lives in the house also does not belong in the house. There are currently 10 people living in a house I swear is meant for 4, and it is great fun, although I have to say I am grateful I no longer have to sleep in the living room.) and we had a real great time. Of course, in typical English style, the trains were delayed on our way to Hampton, and what would have been a 1.5 hours ride turned into a 3 hour nightmare.

The palace was absolutely magnificent and what honestly took our breaths away were the gardens. Very similar to that in Versailles, which was no wonder since William III built Hampton Court after being inspired by Versailles. There were mushroom shaped trees and Hershey's Kisses bushes all around the gardens, beautiful fountains and lakes that seem to stretch on forever, brilliantly coloured flowers and a maze we got lost in for about half an hour.

The interior of the palace looked perfectly well-maintained and it stirred in me a certain awe to know that I was in the very same palace Edward I was born in, where Henry VIII, Elizabeth I and Mary lived in, and where A Midsummer's Night Dream was staged in front of Shakespeare himself.

We came so close to attending a Sunday service in Chapel Royal - the same Chapel a huge majority of English kings worshipped in, but unfortunately they were only resuming services next Sunday. We strolled through the dark corridors where sunlight never shone because it was meant only for servants, housing the wine cellar and kitchens. We attended a mini-concert performed by musicians dressed in period costumes, using medieval instruments.

We stood amazed by the beautiful floor to ceiling paintings and tapestries of various religious motifs as well as Greek gods (how these two differing beliefs were reconciled I would like to know). We experienced the richness of the place with its gold-plated and silver crockery, the magnificant four-postered beds that enables one to shut out the world (there was even a travelling bed, and I'm not talking about sleeping bags. This was a proper four-postered bed with mattress. How it was considered a travelling bed, I have no idea. Try travelling with that on the plane.) We even had lunch in the beautiful sunshine in a garden I'm sure many courtiers have strolled in.

It was a glorious day-out filled with much beauty, as well as an enormous amount of time spent on the wonderful English "I'm sorry to announce, but the 1127 Southwest Train to London Waterloo has been delayed" trains.

And I believe it will also be the day that Glauber will recall as the one where a strange Singaporean girl first walked him to death and then starved him to the point of unconsciousness - upon arriving at Hampton at 2pm, we only sat down for a brief 15 minutes for lunch, which consisted of two jelly sandwiches.

Judging by the fact that he is currently unconscious on the couch next to me tells me that he hasn't quite recovered from his trauma...

i've been a babysitter for the last 2 days and by the end of it, I have come to this conclusion - I am not going to have kids of my own.

Don't get me wrong, Ameya is an absolutely adorable baby and I love playing with her, hearing her laugh and watching her being just unbelievably cute.

Yet, at the same time, the amount of attention a baby needs, the feeding, the drooling, the nappy changing (which thankfully, Guisele spared me from doing), the...oh, the everyday baby chores, are enough to convince me that babies and me do not go well together. We are only able to communicate on short 10 minute bursts. After that, baby goes back to mummy.

Although, I have had a great 2 days, taking Ameya out for a walk (we survived 20 minutes before she started whinging, then tearing, then crying, then falling asleep in my arms, which then meant I had to walk 10 minutes home with my arms protesting for the uncalled for exercise).

I enjoyed being silly and trying to make her laugh. It was also interesting trying to dodge her saliva-filled fingers that almost always find my mouth or hair...and of course, to see her laughing excitedly when Guisele sings and dances with her.

I love the child. She's incredibly cute. And thankfully, she's not mine.