In April 2015, The MileLion published its first-ever post: a badly-formatted, 218-word treatise on how to earn 4,000 bonus miles on your next hotel booking.
In retrospect, it would have been a much better origins story if the inaugural post were an explosive uncovering of corporate wrongdoing, or a salacious cat fight à la Josh Cahill v Sam Chui/Ben Schlappig/empty room, or at the very least, a “hello world” explaining how a freak accident with a nuclear reactor had imbued me with the powers necessary to travel better for less (and robbed me of any remaining hair follicles).
Unfortunately, the genesis of The MileLion is rather more prosaic. After a particularly gruelling period at work, I took a month-long unpaid sabbatical to rest, recuperate, and think about whether this was really what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
Two weeks of lazing around the house later, I finally decided to start a blog (because blogs will never go out of fashion) and write about the one thing I really enjoyed: miles and points. When the time came to take the website live, I realised I hadn’t actually thought of a name for it.
“It’s got to be something that conveys the idea it’s a miles blog, yet also uniquely Singaporean. You know, like miles…Merlion…MileLion…but not that lame.”
But since my session was about to time out, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to fill out all that paperwork again, The MileLion 1.0 was born, held together with duct tape and a prayer.
10 years later, here’s my take on a decade of blogging.
The best job in the world
I don’t know how many people wake up each morning genuinely excited to do what they do, but I count myself fortunate to be among them.
The MileLion became my full-time gig in October 2018, and it’s basically my dream job. It lets me geek out over the things I love. It offers me the freedom to set my own hours and pick my own projects. It gives me a creative outlet. It provides me with a platform to hold companies accountable, and stop them from screwing over the little guy. I get to travel, to pore over the minutiae of cards and reward programmes, and to shape the landscape for miles and points in Singapore.
Of course, like any job, there are good days and bad days. Still, as Pete Wells put it when he stepped down as the New York Times’ food critic:
The first thing you learn as a restaurant critic is that nobody wants to hear you complain. The work of going out to eat every night with hand-chosen groups of friends and family sounds suspiciously like what other people do on vacation.
I can empathise. Reviewing First and Business Class cabins, airport lounges and 5-star hotels has its ups and downs, but heaven help you if you’re ever foolish enough to mention the latter.
Are there aspects of the job that I’m not so fond of? Sure. I don’t particularly enjoy the administrative or technical side of running a business. I don’t like butting heads with legal departments about what I can and can’t say. I am somewhat disconcerted that the current state of online discourse has devolved to the point where if your opinion is contrary to mine, the only explanation is that you’re a paid shill. And I don’t relish being asked to mediate fights between grown-ass men in the Telegram groups, which is basically the adult equivalent of teacher teacher he say me.
Still, these minor annoyances should not detract from the fact that I find my work incredibly meaningful and rewarding, and I’m very grateful for your support in making that possible, whether it’s sharing articles with friends and family, applying through the links on the website, or sending story tips, corrections, and fan fic of varying degrees of tastefulness.
How long will I do this for?
You know what question I hated the most, back when I was interviewing for jobs?
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
You’re supposed to show ambition, alignment and realism. Tell the interviewer you have goals, and those goals are aligned with and achievable with this company.
“In five years, I see myself having developed deep expertise in [insert relevant skill here], taking on more responsibility in managing projects or mentoring newer team members. I’m particularly interested in growing with [insert company name here], which values continuous learning and internal progression, so I’d love to see myself advancing into a role where I can contribute strategically as well as technically.”
I felt an overwhelming urge to retch just typing that, and it probably says a lot about my general immaturity that every time I hear this question, the only response that pops into mind is “in your chair, asking a more intelligent question”.
