Life Stories

Text reads: 50 cups of coffee can't be wrong?! Background contains a mug and an open book on a table.

50 cups of coffee can’t be wrong?!

Y’know, I never used to like coffee.

Yeah, yeah, sacrilege, whatever.

I think the first time I tasted it was when I took a sip of whatever my dad was drinking at my grandmother’s house in Malaysia. It was probably Kopi-O or something like that. Regardless, it was too bitter for this little Aussie girl’s palate.

Aside from coffee cake and various coffee flavoured things that were more sugar than coffee, I don’t think I had coffee again for over 10 years.

I started drinking it a bit when I was pulling all-nighters to finish assignments. Which I don’t encourage, of course, but it’d be hypocritical of me to tell you not to do it.

When I started working at my current job, I was mostly opting for a hot chocolate and the occasional mocha. Post-lockdown, the balance tipped towards the mocha and now the barista no longer needs to ask me what I want.

I mean, it’s basically the best of both worlds (espresso and chocolate). Can’t overdo it though – too much caffeine is bad for my anxiety and gives me heart palpitations. 😛

But I feel vaguely incomplete if I don’t have one in the morning. Kinda like when I want to read on the train and realise at the station that I’ve left my book or eReader at home.

(I did just google “caffeine addiction” and I don’t get the listed withdrawal symptoms that came up if I don’t have a morning coffee, so I think we’re good for now.)

I’ve seen some writers define themselves as creatures who turn coffee into words. Some replace “coffee” with “tea”, but it’s rare to find a writer/author who drinks neither. I’m partial to both at different times of the day.

Honoré de Balzac allegedly drank 50 cups of coffee a day and was crazy prolific in his lifetime. That lifetime was only 51 years but the average life expectancy in 19th century France (or 19th century anywhere) wasn’t terribly high. But the rumoured Balzac method sounds like an excellent way to break your toilet and die of a caffeine overdose. Do not recommend.

Besides, I can honestly say I haven’t noticed any difference to my writing output or quality from caffeine. It might help me feel more equipped to deal with certain social or professional situations, but I don’t think it’s made me a better (or worse) writer. Your mileage may vary. 😉

Anyway, if you’re looking for some reading material over your next coffee/tea break, there’s a teeny mention of me in Books+Publishing’s recent Hybrid publishing in Australia article — and a fair bit about Book Reality and Leschenault Press, i.e. the publisher of Black and Blue. Definitely worth a read if you’re a writer who’s interested in going indie. And I’m happy to chat to anyone about my own experiences. 🙂

Text reads: On the road again. Background contains someone wheeling a trolley bag.

On the road again

I was a bit quiet beforehand because I didn’t want to jinx it, but earlier this month I travelled out of WA for the first time in two-and-a-half years and returned without incident. 😀

I got to catch up with family and friends in Sydney and despite it raining most of the time I was there, it was great.

Oh, and my hotel came with a lightsaber! Okay, it was a torch/flashlight, but everything vaguely cylindrical is a lightsaber if you put your mind to it. Here’s a demo — I’m not very active on TikTok, so this will probably remain my most viewed TikTok video for the foreseeable future. 😛

@leeannkhoh

Found a torch/flashlight/lightsaber in my hotel room… 🔦😄 #StarWars #StarWarsFan #GeekingOut #Lightsaber #Jedi #Nerdtok

♬ original sound – Lee-Ann Khoh
Video “when you find a torch in your hotel room…” shows Lee-Ann taking a torch mounted in the closet of her room. She swings it around in both hands, making lightsaber noises under her breath before returning it to its original position and laughing.

I’m pretty anxious at the best of times and was nervous before I left, but surprisingly, I wasn’t really stressed during the trip. Between booking it and actually going, most travel restrictions were lifted so I guess I didn’t have to worry about accidentally doing something wrong.

I also wore a mask wherever I went, even though I didn’t have to. The Airinum Lite Air masks I opted for in Sydney are definitely on the pricier side, but my glasses didn’t fog up once while I was away, so that’s always a plus. And Airinum recently sent me a referral link, so you can use it if you want to check them out: Get 25% off Airinum masks

But the point of this post wasn’t to advertise masks. It was to muse about how I’ve dipped my toe back in the travel waters and… it went well! I came, I saw, I didn’t get COVID (yet). My passport expired during the pandemic and I’m not planning any around-the-world vacations at this point in time. But interstate trips might be on the cards again.

Truth be told, I actually hate travelling (the getting there part, yuck)… but I do like having travelled. 🙂

Text reads: Unplugged-ish. Background contains someone using a smartphone.

Unplugged-ish

No, it’s not the latest Kenya Barris show. (Although I recently discovered Black-ish, Mixed-ish, and Grown-ish on Disney+ and I’m really digging them.)

It’s about my complicated relationship with social media and what I’m trying to do about it.

On one hand, social media was how I interacted and connected with people in the absence of… well, properly developed social skills.

It’s also how I dipped my toe into the professional world — my first job after graduating was at a social media agency and I definitely learnt lessons there that I’ve taken with me throughout my career.

But it’s a massive time-suck. An easy way to mindlessly procrastinate. And an easy way to worsen one’s mental health.

I’ve alluded to my history of anxiety and depression here before, and plenty of social media platforms are not so great for that. Or they’re great for a while and then they’re reeeally not.

Recently, I decided to change the way I use Facebook. I culled my friends list down to family and what I’m calling my “close contacts” (a bit of COVID-inspired vernacular). I also unfollowed some pages that seem to disproportionately attract… a certain type of commenter.

And then I thought, screw all this crap — and uninstalled the Facebook app from my phone. It’s only been a few days but I feel better already.

A couple of days later, I decided to uninstall Twitter too.

It’s not a proper social media detox. It’s not even a Meta detox because I’ve still got a bunch of their other apps, including Instagram, which is still fun for me.

I also haven’t deactivated my accounts so I can always log in on a browser. I just figure there’s no reason why I need them at my fingertips constantly. Even if I find myself in a situation where live-tweeting might actually be beneficial/interesting to the world, I probably wouldn’t do it anyway.

So to cut a long story short, I deleted the Facebook and Twitter apps and I think it’ll be a positive move. Now to replace the mindless doomscrolling habit with something productive… like that second book maybe…

Text reads: Stuck in a rut. Background contains a red car stuck in snow at night.

Stuck in a rut

I’m in a bit of a rut.

Not a “depressed” rut (been there). I’m actually pretty good.

My job fulfils me. My family is great. My circle of friends is small but meaningful and that’s how I like it. And NCIS, a show I’ve grown up with and is basically a family friend at this point, just got renewed for Season 20.

In short, I’m happy.

It’s more of a “why aren’t I achieving more with my life?” rut. A “someday I’ll be old and I want to be better than I am today” rut.

I’m often tired.

I’m not reading anywhere near as much as I want to or should. (Related to the tiredness thing.)

I feel like I’m not making progress on Book #2.

Sometimes I think it’d be cool to take up [insert hobby here] but then I don’t get started or follow through.

Or I think about how I wanted to be a cartoonist with a syndicated comic strip when I was a kid and wonder why I stopped drawing altogether.

Rut-a-tut-tut.

I’m sure I’ll get unstuck but right now, I’m just typing it out.

And maybe taking a nap.

Text reads: All the changing seasons of my life. Background contains a row of different coloured daffodils.

All the changing seasons of my life

A lot has happened since my last blog post, including Western Australia’s hard border coming down so maybe I’ll come sign your copies of my book soon. 😉 But I’ve also been doing plenty of thinking. About how the world has changed over the past couple of years. And how I’ve changed.

Recently, I was chatting to a friend in America who asked me what my current passions were.

“That’s a good question actually,” I said.

Before the pandemic, going out for me usually involved live music. (That part is one of the more autobiographical aspects of Black and Blue.) But the thing about live music is that it often takes place at a venue where alcoholic drinks are flowing and people have no concept of personal space.

So I’ve always had to weigh up on a case-by-case basis whether I want to see the band more than I loathe the unwanted touching and germy bathrooms. Now I also consider the risk of spreading illnesses to someone who might not be as healthy and okay as I am.

But as my American pal and I talked about the state of the world, the loss of two years, work-related stress, not being able to see friends and family or go to events… we realised that one of the saddest parts for us might be seeing the worst in people we used to like and respect. The casual ableism… the conspiracy theories and spreading of misinformation… comparing their self-inflicted plight to the Holocaust… etc.

I brought this up with another dear friend of mine, who I’ve known since we were six years old.

“Not gonna lie,” they said, “As a queer, disabled person, I’m no longer surprised when someone I liked turns out to be garbage.”

Word.

Anyway, all that reflection also got me thinking about my 15-year love-hate relationship with Facebook, which has gradually become a Rolodex spanning my entire existence on this planet. At this point in my life, I’d rather keep things focused on family and friends I have an actual emotional connection with. (And managing Facebook pages, which is the main reason I can’t just delete/deactivate my profile).

So far I’ve culled about 200 people from my friends list and I’m sure everyone will survive without an annual meaningless birthday message from me.

Meanwhile, there are plenty of other social media platforms and apps that anyone can use to keep in touch or keep tabs on me… some of which are owned by Facebook’s parent company, so those zuckers still have their claws in me regardless. 😛

PS. If you’re up for 10 minutes of awesomeness, here’s the music video for “Estranged” by Guns N’ Roses, which happens to be the song I lifted this blog title from.

Estranged – Guns N’ Roses