How I'm Slowly Becoming a Video Editor at 52+

Forget marathon sessions. My secret to learning a new skill is just half an hour a day.

Have you ever scrolled through Instagram, Facebook or TikTok, watched a slick reel, and thought, “I wish I could do that”? I’ve been there. For the longest time, video editing felt like a secret language spoken only by digital natives and creative pros. The software looked complicated, the tutorials were endless, and the thought of spending hours on a single clip was daunting.

But recently, I decided to bite the bullet. My weapon of choice? CapCut. And my mission? To finally learn the Gen Z magic of turning clips into compelling stories.

Let me be honest: it was intimidating at first. The first time I opened the app on my phone, I was greeted with a maze of timelines, buttons, splits, and effects. My initial attempts were… well, let’s just call them ‘humble beginnings.’ But I quickly realized a crucial thing: I don’t have the luxury of spending entire weekends on trial and error. Between work, life, and everything in between, my time is precious.

So, I created a new rule for myself: The 30-Minute Rule.

No pressure, no marathon sessions. Just a dedicated half-hour each day to learn one small thing. Some days, that’s following a YouTube tutorial step-by-step. Other days, it’s just playing with a new filter or seeing what all the buttons do.

Editing the videos on my desktop computer, using the CapCut Desktop tool, is so much easier and faster than doing it on my phone, at least for an aunty with ‘old flower’ eyesight.

And you know what? It’s working. The slow-and-steady approach is paying off. The fog is lifting! I’ve now confidently mastered the absolute basics: cutting videos precisely and adding text. It might sound simple, but seeing a clean cut and a nicely formatted title appear on my screen felt like a major victory.

My next conquest? Sound. I’m moving on to learning how to add music and import songs to get the vibe just right. There’s still a mountain of things to learn—transitions, keyframes, blurring objects, trendy effects—and it’s not always easy, but the daily 30-minute investment is making it feel achievable.

I’m also not going it completely alone. I’ve already enlisted a secret weapon: my daughter, Alycia. She’s a first-class honours graduate in branding and advertising and, quite frankly, a wizard at this stuff. Once she’s back from her overseas travels, I’ve put in a request for a masterclass. I’m hoping she’ll have a little patience to teach her old mom the Gen Z ropes!

So, what’s the end goal for all this? I’m thrilled to finally share it! Once I’ve built up my skills and my confidence, I’ll be launching a fan page on social media, filled with reels and videos. As a bit of a perfectionist, I want to make sure I can produce something I’m genuinely proud of before I showcase it to the world. I’m aiming for at least ‘half-perfect’ before I hit that publish button!

This journey has taught me a valuable lesson so far: you don’t need huge chunks of time to learn something new. Consistency trumps cramming every single time. Small, daily steps really do lead to big progress.

I’ll keep you posted on my CapCut adventures. Wish me luck!

When It Rains, It Pours: My Month of Mishaps

Ever have one of those months where you feel like you should just stay in bed? You know, the kind where the universe seems to be testing your patience with a series of unfortunate and bizarre events? If you nodded yes, then pull up a chair. Let’s have a virtual coffee, because this month, I’m right there with you.

It all came to a head last Saturday. I was doing a regular routine: driving my MIL to the pharmacy. As we parked and got ready to cross the road, the unthinkable happened. The loud, heart-sinking BANG of metal crunching metal.

I turned to see a bulky pickup truck reversing right into the front of my car. My stomach dropped. This wasn’t just any car; this was my precious 2.5-month-old new car! The right front bumper was crushed, and so was my spirit.

The driver, a clearly distressed Indonesian man, got out. In the ensuing conversation, a small-world twist emerged. He is the husband of the Indonesian lady whose fruit stall I frequent. My weekly source of apples, oranges, bananas, and kiwi was now connected to the source of my car’s new crumpled aesthetic.

He was apologetic and honest. A construction worker, he explained he could only afford to pay RM1,000 for the repairs. My mind immediately started racing with calculations and worst-case scenarios.

The Insurance Dilemma: A Headache in Itself

This is the modern driver's quandary, isn't it? We pay for insurance precisely for this reason, but the thought of actually using it was overwhelming.

• Losing my No-Claim Bonus (NCB): A huge financial setback over time.

• The tedious process: Police reports, endless paperwork, appointed workshops.

• The inconvenience: Being without my new car for up to a month and possibly longer!

The bumper alone could cost nearly RM1k to replace. If the headlight was cracked (from the look of it, I think it wasn't), that would be another RM1,300-1,500. His RM1k offer suddenly felt very insufficient.

I had to sit on this anxiety for days. With the public holidays, I couldn’t even get the car to a workshop for an assessment. It was a long, frustrating wait.

Finally, today (Thursday), we took the car to my husband’s trusted mechanic. I held my breath as he inspected the damage.

And then, the news I’d been praying for: the headlight cover was not cracked! The total repair cost? Around RM800. The relief was palpable. My car would only be in the shop for 2-3 days, not a month.

Now, the final step is to present the receipt to the driver and hope he honours his promise to pay in full. I’m choosing to be optimistic and believe in his good character.

But Wait, There’s More… (Because of Course There Is)

If this was an isolated incident, it would just be a bad week. But this month has been… special. This car accident was merely the headline act in a festival of minor misfortunes.

• I’ve been accidentally cut by a knife—not once, but twice—by someone else. Two other unrelated knife incidents also occurred. Imagine being cut by a knife (twice directly, twice indirectly caused by her carelessness) four times this month by the same person!! Thankfully, the cuts were superficial.

• The day after the car accident, I slammed a heavy wooden door directly on my left third finger, which left my finger throbbing with pain for days. Someone had left their big, bulky shoes right in front of the door entrance, and I was arranging them when the door slammed on my poor finger.

It’s been comical in its consistency. So much so that someone, well-versed in Chinese metaphysics, mentioned that in Bazi (Four Pillars of Destiny), a clash of elements in one's chart during certain months can manifest as exactly this kind of accident-prone energy. It could be a clash in your own charts or someone in the family clashing with yours.

And you know what? Right now, I’m inclined to believe there might be some truth to it. When life lines up this many random mishaps, you start looking for patterns in the universe!

Now, I’m just counting down the days until I get my car back and this "clash of elements" passes. Here’s to a safer, smoother, and decidedly less dramatic month ahead for all of us!

What about you? Have you ever had a string of bad luck that felt cosmically coordinated? Do you believe in these astrological or Bazi influences on our daily lives? Share your stories in the comments—I’d love to know I’m not alone!

Surviving the SPM Silence: A Parent's Guide to (Quietly) Losing Their Mind

If you’ve ever lived with a student preparing for a major exam, you’ll know the household transforms. Normal rules go out the window. The air changes. In my case, the air has literally come to a standstill.

My littlest daughter, Cass, is in the thick of her SPM Trials. Two weeks down, two to go. But that’s just the warm-up act. The main event—the actual SPM—looms in early November, meaning our household is operating under strict martial law until December 23, 2026. I have the date circled on my calendar, not just for her, but for my own liberation.

The past fortnight has been a masterclass in sleep deprivation (for her) and sonic deprivation (for me). Cass survives on a patchwork of rest: a few hours of frantic studying at night, followed by a 2-3 hour coma in the afternoon after school. I watch this erratic cycle with a knot of worry in my stomach. Her sleep hygiene is, to put it mildly, non-existent. But as every Malaysian parent knows, during SPM, you pick your battles. A nap is a victory. A completed chapter is a cause for celebration for the student.

My battle, however, is fought in absolute silence.

My work desk is conveniently—or rather, inconveniently—located next to the dining table. This table has now become Cass’s official Command Centre for Academic Excellence. And the first rule of Command Centre? Total. Absolute. Silence.

My beloved radio, my companion of years with its chatter and songs? Gone. My YouTube playlists of 80s and 90s power ballads that get me through my workday? Muted. Even the gentle, life-giving whirr of the living room fan has been deemed an unacceptable disturbance. Why? Because the wind, she says, threatens the delicate ecosystem of her study notes. 

Even her grandmother has to play her favorite Rumikub on her iPad and listen to the news on the TV, at a muted volume.

And the aftermath of the study each night? Eraser dirt on the chair, table, and floor. Dirty plates and cups scattered on the table. Every morning, I put on my disposable nitrile gloves and clean the dining area, wiping off not only food crumbs but eraser dirt.

Can you imagine? No music. No news. No moving air. In Malaysia. It’s a special kind of torture. But a parent adapts. My remedy? An escape plan.

I’ve decided to invest in a laptop. This isn’t just a new piece of technology; it’s my ticket to freedom. I will retreat to my bedroom, rearranging furniture to carve out a new, tiny sanctuary. I’ll grant her sovereignty over the entire living and dining room. She can have the kingdom of silence all to herself.

This is the sacrifice, isn’t it? The quiet offering we make for their future. We endure the silence, the stress, the weird sleep schedules, and the temporary loss of our own comforts. We do it not for the grades, but for the person.

I don’t expect straight As from Cass. I expect her to look back on this time and know that her home was a place that supported her, even if that support was… quiet. I know she’s trying her best, and whatever that best translates to on her results slip, I will be there, immensely proud of the resilient young woman she is becoming.

After the final paper on December 23rd, the silence will be broken. We’ll finally discuss what’s next. She’s already yearning for a part-time job, to taste independence and earn her own money. I’ll happily let her have that experience. And I’m quietly, curiously excited to see what path she chooses at university.

For now, I’ll soon be in my room, with my new laptop and a fan on full blast. It’s a small price to pay.

To all the parents out there in the same silent boat: hang in there. The exam season will pass, the music will return, and the fans will spin once more. And it will all be worth it.

Sunday, 31 August 2025

This Sunday was not just our country’s Independence Day. It was the eve of the eve of Cass’s SPM Trial exam (1st day). She has been a pillar of dedication, her nose buried in textbooks (and laptop) with endless late nights. The weight of this important milestone was on her shoulders, and she had been carrying it with admirable grace.

But even the most dedicated students need to breathe. And for Cass, breathing means lacing up her skates.

Early Sunday morning, she packed her bag and headed to the skating rink. For her, figure skating isn't just a hobby; it’s her passion, her therapy, her life. It’s the place where stress evaporates with the chill of the ice and is replaced by the pure joy of movement. It was also a chance to reconnect with her teammates and share a laugh and lunch with her bestie from the team—a necessary dose of normalcy before a week of exams.

With Cass in her element, the rest of our trio— hubby, Sherilyn, and I—decided to embark on a small adventure of our own. Hubby drove to Marco Polo for a dim sum brunch.

Stepping into that Chinese restaurant was like stepping through a portal in time. The familiar aromas of steamed dim sum instantly transported me back over three decades. In the 1990s, Marco Polo on Jalan Sultan Ismail was the place to be. I was working in the HR Department of Southern Bank then, and this restaurant was our celebratory sanctuary.

I have such fond memories of those days. When our manager or superiors received a good bonus or we’d successfully navigated a particularly challenging period, we’d all head here. The large, round tables would be overflowing with delicious dim sum, the lazy Susan constantly turning, sharing not just food but laughter and camaraderie. The working hours in the bank were long, but the friendships forged there were built to last. To see that this iconic restaurant is still thriving today filled me with a warm, nostalgic glow. How I miss those days, and the monthly pay and wonderful bank benefits! Imagine earning over 8% interest (plus an additional percentage for staff) on our FDs in the early 1990s! 

After our delicious and memory-filled brunch, we made a stop at Bray for a loaf of their fantastic sourdough bread. And, as is his tradition, my husband couldn't resist adding a few pastries to the bag. But I didn’t touch those – they were for our girls. These days, I’m more focused on less-sweet, or sugar-free, snacks, a conscious effort to lower my HbA1C reading. It’s a small but significant change for my health.

While I am glad that Cass is studying hard, it also means that I have to live my days in total silence! Whenever she studies, I have to turn off my radio, and watch my videos muted.  This is truly annoying, and the torture is going to last for another 4 months, ending only on 23 December – the last day of SPM!!  I already have a remedy to this and I’ll update everyone soon!

Sourdough bread and pastries from Bray.

Cass prepped her skating rink lunch box, which is power-packed with healthy protein - her sister's homemade dumplings, salad, tofu with teriyaki sauce and an onsen egg.