pop martian

I saw a news segment about the Labubu craze, and the reporter said this obsession might be linked to mental illness. Rude, but not entirely wrong.

I’ve self-diagnosed myself with this sickness. Blind boxes are psychological warfare: tiny cardboard slot machines. Pop Mart knows exactly what they’re doing with the limited stock and surprise releases. Yesterday I was at the store when they dropped the Exciting Macarons series and later won two raffle draws for the chance to buy the Pin from the Love series. Of course, I bought a Powerball ticket to see if the lucky streak would continue.

The dopamine hit is addictive: the suspense, the reveal, the little victory. The joy is pure, uncut serotonin. And like any good addict, I keep chasing a bigger high. I tracked down the Forest Fairy Tale Labubu, which was available only overseas. I got my sister-in-law, my enabler with reseller contacts, to lock it in, and then had my cousin smuggle it in from Vietnam like contraband. 

Maybe it is a kind of neurological disorder. But at least it’s cheaper than my Hermès habit.

heels to hills

I used to live on wheels and in high heels. I drove everywhere and saw walking as a punishment. If friends suggested a hike, I’d meet them at the top, in my car.

Then came Dave, and walking didn’t feel like exercise; it was just being with him. I didn’t notice the distance on those early dates as he led me through the city, keeping me entertained with quick wit and constant banter.

Shoes became tools. Legs were no longer just decoration. The girl who once drove while others walked learned that love puts comfortable sandals on your feet, and gives you someone worth following.

chemistry met character

As a schoolgirl, I liked the good-lookers. Later, I was drawn to humour, then to wit, then to attention. I kept chasing the thrill, convinced butterflies were the key. Over time, I learned those things were only fleeting.

When I met Dave, the chemistry was instant, and he checked all my superficial boxes. He also had qualities I didn’t even know to hope for: stability, patience and generosity. What began as the giddiness of first sparks grew into the gentle flame of a lasting love. He became my husband, the father of our children, and the person I depend on most.

Marriage taught me that the true measure of a man is how he cares for his family. 

He makes new memories with us, shows us the world, and includes his parents, brothers and their partners in the journey. Life with him is like climbing a mountain together: steady, sometimes challenging, but always moving upward with trust and purpose. He makes sure no one is left behind. I no longer chase butterflies. I found the man who is both my solid ground and the greatest adventure of my life.

labubu leap

It started at my brother’s wedding, when my cousin hosted a trivia game and my daughters won a Labubu. One figure became a set, then a collection, because I’ve never been able to enjoy anything in a healthy, casual way - I leap from curious to committed in a heartbeat.

Most people notice only the jagged teeth, manic stares, and chaos, dismissing them as creepy. Then I came across the sweet series: pastels, soft fur, squinty eyes, mischievous smiles. That’s when the charm clicked.

In a world where childhood flickers mostly across screens, these little weirdos carried us back into the hobby room. My girls dressed them in miniature outfits, tugging tiny sleeves over chubby arms, pinching at buttons, fussing with hats and ribbons - each detail sparking a new personality: shy in a bonnet, gangster in a tracksuit, classy with a handbag. Imagination thrives in the hands, not on a device.