Happy Birthday

Happy birthday you. Wherever you are, I hope you are having the time of your life. I really do. There's too much words can't say. I'll keep it short. There will never be another, this much I'm certain. Thank you for making me feel the way i did and still do. Have a good one my love.

Taipei Spring 2009

April

April has been a good month. I smiled a lot, ate a lot, sloshed down gallons of coffee and juice and exercised a fair bit. I use the term exercised loosely, it really depends on who you're talking to and your definition of exercising. And no, I'm not talking about sex, in fact, I haven't thought about it in a while. I've filled my calendar with activities and even made some short-term plans which are, of course, subjected to a long string of other considerations. But that's another story. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. All's been good except the bitch of a weather that had me sweating my pants off at the Fort Canning Park on Monday. It was Stereophonics' first concert in Singapore and I'm glad I caught it although I was slightly disappointed that Kelly did not do his guitar solo for Dakota. Still, it was surreal, hearing them live, complete with close up visuals. I so wanna marry a musician. Okay, that's pushing it, perhaps in another life.

So, Vietnam. First impressions were ruined both by the horrendous traffic and the taxi-driver who couldn't leave his horn the hell alone, he was at it the whole time from the airport to the hotel, which was a good 30 minutes ride. I tried to distract him by initiating conversations but he scared the shit out of me by turning his head around each time I spoke, putting all our lives in jeopardy. Anyway, that was that. Katie's song was playing in my head the whole time we were on the roads. If there are, in fact, nine million bicycles in Beijing, there must be an equivalent number of motorbikes in Ho Chi Minh City. The roads are teemed with motorists in their 2 wheelers bearing merchandise of all sorts, coming at you in all directions. Forget traffic rules, there are none so to speak. For inexperienced riders with poor sense of navigation like yours truly, riding a motorcycle in Saigon can be awfully intimidating. I find myself sweating and shaking uncontrollably whenever i climbed onto the seat of my black Yamaha. Yes fear, of endangering not my own, but the lives of innocent and unknowing Vietnamese. Here's a tip, once on the road, always act like you've done this a million times, it'll help boost your confidence.

Notice how i went on and on about the one thing we did? I'm almost ashamed to admit that we didn't get around much, not that i didn't enjoy the trip. We did visit the War Remnants Museum and the Notre Dame Cathedral, we rode past the Central Post Office and the Reunification Palace. (at least that's what i thought they were) We got lost at one point, which I found strangely comforting. We walked a lot and climbed a lot of stairs. Met some annoying people and a couple of amiable ones. A lot of late dinners and long showers. Some people lost a small fortune at the casino, I wont name names, you know who you are. :p It wasn't over the top fantastic, it was just good. And of course our trip wouldn't have been quite so pleasant if not for Chanh, who had to wake up at ungodly hours every single night to let us in and to park our bikes. A big thank you for your patience and kindness and guess what, to repay you, we'll be back. Right, till then, y'all have a good one.

High

I'm wasting away, body, mind and soul. I could sleep all day and night and still wake up feeling totally wiped out. I'm whining again. I can't help it. I'm not reading at all, nothing of any great interest at least. I tried to. The only literature that seems to interest me of late is my weekly dose of celebrity gossip. I take delight in the carnal pleasures the world has to offer wherever i can find them. The closest description to a feeling i can come up with is high. I feel high. It's ironic. I've officially stooped to a new low. I'm becoming trashy. I don't like it one bit. I'm hoping shame will find me at some point. I'm hopeful. He's leaving in 10 days and i can't decide if i want to see him off at the airport. I'm afraid to be honest. I'm afraid that the tears won't come and the numbness won't go away. Plus it's always better to not know that the last time you see someone is the last time. It's better this way. I need a drink, another drink and a cigarette. I'll be back, with renewed strength in due course.

A Chance Rendezvous

Even though i hate to admit it, it is nice to have someone ask you if the roast pork went well with the chicken rice every once in a while.

On Repeat Mode

Travis
Sailing Away

What are we gonna do,
when you've stopped crying?
What ever you're going through
it's not worth dying.

Chasing away the blues,
I know you're trying.
And nobody wants to lose,
I don't know why.

Cause I live by the river,
live by the river and
I'll die by the river
I'm sailing, away, today.

What are you gonna say
when they stop laughing?
You're giving it all away
when you've got nothing.

How many times a day
you feel like walking?
Taking a holiday from
all the shy-y-y...

But I live by the river,
live by the river and
I'll die by the river
I'm sailing, away, today.

Cause I live by the river,
live by the river and
I'll die by the river
I'm sailing, away, today.

And you've got to grab
the bull by the horns my friend
it's the only way to go.

And when the story's told
we can go home.

So what are we gonna do,
when you've stopped crying?
What ever you're going through
it's not worth dying.

Keeping away the blues
you know I'm trying.
What've we got to lose,
and testify-y-y...

Cause I live by the river,
live by the river and
I'll die by the river
I'm sailing, away,
I'm sailing, away,
I'm sailing, away, today.

To All Outside the Yellow Box

Come on now, that disdainful look and that fake coughing, that contemptuous wave of the hand to suggest that we're some kind of a disease? Seriously. Enough is enough. What makes non-smokers think they are above it all? You want fresh air? Go to a club. Seriously. We get it. It's bad for our health and it's a threat to the environment, well, so does your driving of your posh 8-seater and you dont see us giving you supercilious looks do you? Social tolerance. Have some, it's free. It costs you nothing and it makes you a better person. I'm not justifying my bad habits, i dont have an excuse, but neither do you. I shall not go on to bitch about the absurd price of a pack of cigarettes these days nor the lengths the authorities have gone to let smokers like myself know that we're unwelcome social pariahs. My point is this. I've paid the ridiculous taxes, i only smoke where smoking is allowed, please, let me have my little Lilliputian slice of heaven in peace. Thank you.

A Case of Logorrhea

Ever had one of those days where nothing seems to get you down? Days where you feel completely at ease with who you are and where you are and nothing, not even your impending unemployment seems too colossal a challenge you cant undertake? It has been a good week and to be honest, i relished it like a 5-year-old would savour a popsicle on a torrid afternoon, with glee and gratification. Hell, i even indulged in 3 meals a day complete with desserts the entire week without feeling the least bit guilty. I can't remember the last time i ingested a peanut butter and jelly sandwich nor the reason i swore off carbs, but this i remember, the juxtaposition of peanut butter and jelly between two thick slices of soft white bread and a piping hot mug of coffee, this i've missed. And no, i'm not high on prozac, or alcohol for that matter, in fact, i don't think i've been this sober in months. Who knows how long it'll last this time but i'll bask in it for as long as it does.

Speaking of popsicles, the ice-cream man has been coming around religiously the last couple of weeks, twice a day i'll hear the chiming of his bells, beckoning children and adults alike to his charming little mini van like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, but in a good way. With the school holidays coming to an end, i expect to see less of him around. There is something in the jingle jangle of his bells at certain specified hours of the day that i find reassuring and comforting. My shrink, if i had one would say that i'm lacking in the permanency department and i would probably agree with him. I have no idea why my shrink is a him, but i'm sure there is a good reason why i chose a member of the male species as the quintessential solution to all of my problems. Right, i should probably stop psychoanalysing myself, am no Freud.

Time to hit the sack. Monday. Ughhh. I should have known this faux optimism was short-lived.

Jenny Lewis

Is it just me or does she have an amazing voice? There's something about the way she sings that blows me away, i love this bit here -

and if you want me
you better speak up- i won't wait
so you better, move fast

don't fool yourself
in thinking you're more than you are
with your arms outstretched to me

- Extract from song - With Arms Outstretched

What can i say? I'm sold.

27 going on 28

I've decided that instead of turning 28 like all of my friends born in the year 1979 do, i'll be a spoiled brat and celebrate my 27th birthday, again, much to the protests of the angry mob that i used to call my friends. I'm sorry but i'm just not ready for the big TWO EIGHT yet, not mentally, not emotionally and above all, not physically. Identity crisis. I've been having it for as long as i've been conscious of my wretched existence. Year after year i make the same wish in futility before blowing out the candles on my too good to eat cake wondering when i'll see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know there are sadder things in life than not fitting into my size 27 Levi's or the wrinkles on my face that i've shamelessly mistaken for crease lines left by my cheap cotton pillow case or crying my eyes out listening to Feist's The Park or watching The Holiday for the 4th time this year just so i could still hang on to the teeniest tiniest of hopes that love does come a-knocking in miraculous ways.

Growing old isn't really that scary, if i say that a hundred times a day i might just convinced myself. I mean, one day you're a just a kid blasting loud music on your stereo with not a care in the world and the next you're all grown up and you worry about things like retirement funds and health care insurance and housing loans and the lot. On top of that, you are quite sure that your fats have decided to marry your waist and have hence obtained legal permanent residence through naturalisation and your hair seems to have lost its lustre and you seem to have develop a disgusting penchant for bitter melon and other greens. And you've given up loud music that sends your heart pumping for sad old bastard tunes and bright colours for safer ones. You wonder where you're going in your career, that is, if you do have one at all. One minute you feel that everything in your life is going okay, the next you're an emotional wreck and you go mental trying to figure out how life works between the two extremes. And how pathetic is it to spend most of your adult Christmases and birthdays and New Year's eves watching cheesy, blah movies all the time feeling lousy, lonely and totally alone? Maybe it isnt growing old that scares me per se, it's growing old alone, mateless.

Nevertheless, i'm grateful to friends, family and ex-boyfriend who did send their well wishes despite their busy schedules, most even made it to dinner and on time too. :) Maybe growing old really isnt that scary because you're never really alone.

Infatuation vs. Affection

Funny how after so many years of dating experience and you still find yourself asking the inevitable question - is it just an infatuation or do you see yourself falling in love? Perhaps the very fact that you asked is a sign that it isnt anything more than a mere crush. Should one then, dismiss the notion of it ever happening or actually do something about it? What are the tell-tale signs of liking someone? And how do you know when you've crossed the line from infatuation to true affection? Since we're at it, here's a list of parameters that i find helpful, although i'm pretty sure by the time i'm done, i'll be as stumped as i was before. Here goes -

1. Time - infatuations hardly last, although i once had a crush on a senior for 3 years.

2. Anxiety levels - do you feel more excited than petrified at the prospects of letting your feelings be known? The latter could be an indication that you feel more.

3. Scope of fantasy - are all your fantasies with the person in question primarily sexual in nature or do they go beyond the physical?

4. Heart leaping index - Does a text from the person in question send your heart leaping to your throat?

5. Comfort level - Yes, i actually find this the most accurate of all. Let's be honest here, if you are going to spend an awful lot of time with this person, you better feel a certain level of comfort. Enough to speak your mind and be yourself level.

6. Music - happy music is a better barometer of measuring love than sad old bastard music, at least in the beginning. For instance, the song playing in your head when you see that person better be I Can Hear Music by the Beach Boys than Eponine's On My Own.

7. Finally, when you start making a mental list of the person's likes and dislikes, birthdays and pet peeves, thats when you see a warning sign flashing in red that says - THIN ICE AHEAD.

The 10 Confessions

1. I have once peed in a public place.
2. I can sleep more than 16 hours a day if i want to.
3. I have sweaty palms and feet.
4. I dont like taking showers on rainy days.
5. I try to hold my bladder for as long as i can stand it whilst doing chores and when i do expel, feel a great sense of satisfaction.
6. I feed my friends' dogs junk food when they arent looking all the time.
7. I secretly obsessed about marrying movie stars, this week, its Paul Newman version 1967.
8. I have had a crush on a lesbian once.
9. I dig my nose in the shower everyday.
10. Bras make me feel uncomfortable and i dont like wearing them.

At long last

Time wounds, all heals. Some days i still miss him, and it still hurts an awful lot. But i'm getting better with each passing day. I still can't bring myself to trash the letters that he wrote, nor delete his text messages and emails from my inbox. Maybe i dont have to, perhaps one can still move on while holding onto the stuff that means something to them. I still feel the urge to write him every now and then, i still look wistfully at the gates to his apartment every time i drive past. I still can't stand to hear his voice, nor entertain the prospect of seeing him, but all's well. For the first time in a long while, i can feel my heart beating steadily. I might even take that trip to Norway in June, i just might. :)

Phuket, Thailand, 23-26/3/2007

Pictures paint a thousand words, enough said. :))

The fool on April's Day

Of all the cliches about life, the one i am most averse to would be that it goes on. That there are no catastrophe too devastating, no parting too unbearable, and no death too painful that it stops life from going on. We're allowed to grieve for a period of time and once the tears have been shed and the loss has been mourned, we are all expected to snap out of it because like it or not, life goes on. We acknowledge that some things are the way they are and even though we dont always understand them, we accept them. Illnesses, deaths, break-ups, loss, loneliness and the like, most of us find a way to deal with them, eventually. Maybe it's me, i let myself get too attached much too easily. I've allowed myself to grow accustomed to things, places and people even though i know they are carcinogenic.

They do show up when you least expect them to. The happy couple. It doesnt matter how vivid your imagination or how often you've played the scene in your head, your bastion collapsed and you shattered into pieces. I've recited the lines a million times in my head, how i would act, the subtle smile and the graceful delivery of my words. And all i could managed was a feeble wave of my hand whilst shaking in my skates, and with bated breath and trembling limbs, floated away without a second glance. The first has done irreparable harm. It took away the last of my tiniest fantasies. That he could still be hung up on me like i am on him, that i did creep into his thoughts every now and then or how i imagined him laying on the deck chair next to mine, soaking in the wondrous sun, sand and sea of paradise Phuket. At times like these i wonder if it's someone's divine idea of a joke. Of all places, of all days and of all times. If I had any sense at all, i should have called dibs on the places we frequented, times of the day and songs we listened to, except that there is no "we" anymore. My dearest you, I didnt wait around for a "hello" not because i didnt want to, but because i couldnt.

These days i hang on to one thought. I hang on to it fervently and unweariedly. Quoting Iris in The Holiday - And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new... and you'll meet people who'll make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Funny how your senses are most alive when you feel most dead. You see, hear, smell, taste and feel the things you've never really noticed before. Like the many wrinkles that have found their way to your Ma's face, the rain that smells just like it did when you were 6 and Eva Cassidy's Songbird, so beautiful it breaks your heart. The deluge at midday was a baptism, I let it soak every fibre of my being. It makes sense doesn't it, that if you want to experience the highest of high, you must first endure the unnerving troughs of the valley? It's just that, I can never seem to get there. It's like being on a swing, you take a deep breath, muster all the energy you have and pray that the momentary high, the split second you thought you could reach out and touch the skies is not an ignis fatuus, but something real, something possible.

I intend to get very drunk tonight at a party i didnt think i am ready for. What the hell. Sobriety is way too overrated. Hello Vodka, bye bye baka. There, i said it.

Wednesday, November 22nd, 2006

It's raining.. How i long to see the rainbow.

Lucetta's Wisdom

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

Julia: Why, he of all the rest, hath never mov'd me.

Lucetta: Yet he of all the rest, i think, best loves ye.

Julia: His little speaking shows his love but small.

Lucetta: Fire thats closest kept burns most of all.

Julia: They do not love that do not show their love.

Lucetta: O! they love least, that let men know their love.

Shakespeare was right, i've made a thorough fool of myself.

Holidaying

I am taking a holiday, a long vacation from living. When this vacation does end, i hope to feel better or at least different. To the dear friend who paid visits to the cafe with Godiva chocolates and hearty chats, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I'll be back.

Merry-go-round

Sometimes i wonder if i will ever stop going around in circles.
You know that kind of feeling,
that the world just keeps spinning
and all you see is a blur of colours and hardly distinguishable shapes?
Today is one of those days.
I wish the world would stop spinning,
so that for once i can see how blue the sky is
and how beautiful your face looks against all that blue.
The thing is,
the pain starts when the spinning stops.
Along with the fears and the doubts and the unanswered questions.
And then i remembered that this is what got me spinning in the first place.
You.
Your beauty.
My insanity.
Our silence.

Any Day Now

Any Day Now - Missy Higgins

How long, how long, how long
Will we take to come undone
If you know the answer tell me now
And I'll write at the calendar for our countdown

'Cause what if what we see is all, is all we've got
Well say you've kept some fire aside
To set alight to me some surprising night
And say you've locked some fire away
To set light to me some surprising day
Any day now

How come, how come, how come
I'm now on a road holding out my thumb
If you know my destination please
Well find me the fastest car and throw me the keys

'Cause what if what we see is all, is all we've got
Well say you've kept some fire aside
To set alight to me some surprising night
And say you've locked some fire away
To set light to me some surprising day


Cause finger by finger we're losing grasp
And I'm questioning the reasons
Why nothing beautiful does last

Well say you've kept some fire aside
To set alight to me some surprising night
And say you've locked some fire away
To set light to me some surprising day

To me some surprising day

Any day now

Unfortunate Events

1. I have just turned 27 and according to some semi-reliable statistics, my skin will now take twice the amount of time to replenish itself. I can feel a new web of wrinkles slithering and making themselves comfortable with their new-found abode. I can literally hear champagne bottles popping and glasses clinking away. Not to mention my already non-existent tits succumbing to gravity. Yeah, happy birthday to me.

2. My computer has decided to crash on me while I was away. My 15 gigabytes of music that I took great pains and years to accumulate, gone. Pictures of my most glorious years, (well, not exactly glorious but what the fuck) vamoosed, permanently. Along with my past school assignments and ongoing projects I have been working on. I blame myself really, I should have known better than to place emotional attachment on a cold, heartless device. And I know all about backing up, I just hadnt gotten around to doing it.

3. Dropped my Seiko and broke the bracelet. It has to be my favourite watch. One that I scrimped and saved months for. Bollocks.

4. Came home to a dried up vase and withered flowers from my birthday. There were 4 people at home and none of them bothered to fill the vase with water. In the midst of bitching the week's series of unfortunate events on the phone with my best friend whilst binning the flowers and cleaning the vase, guess what happened? Yeah, I broke the vase.

5. Knackered after a night's work in the cafe, I dumped my uniform and jeans in the washing machine without checking the pockets. Imagine my horror when I opened the machine this morning saw lumps of black gooey stuff sticking to the insides. I couldnt tell what they were or where they came from until I saw the remains of what used to be ballpoint pens peeping through my left sock and apron strings. God help us all. My mum hasnt seen it yet, I have just emptied heaps of detergent and washing powder and set the machine on the longest cycle. Till then, I will have to lay low and pray hard that it comes off.

6. I was hoping there isnt going to be a 6th. I mean, what else could possibly go wrong? I feel a sense of impending doom as Murphy's wise words whirled in my head. A couple of chores to be done before I head off to work, with my luck, I will probably choke myself eating raisins.

Dancing

And there i stood,
On centre stage,
Stark naked,
Shaking with unknown fear,

There in the audience,
Were the loves of my life,
Some were here to watch the farce,
Some were here to watch me fall,
Some were here to catch me when i fall.

It was now or never,
I had to put on a good show,
I was alone,
A dancer without a partner.

The first note sonant,
It was my cue,
My body rigid,
I curtsied gingerly.

I had no idea what nor whom to dance for,
But i danced,
Like a butterfly amongst blossoming flowers,
Like a drunkard inebriated,
Like a prisoner embracing the sun's warmth for the first time in a long time.

I danced the dance of misery,
Of sorrow and heartache,
Of a love lost,
Whose face i couldnt bear to imagine.

Of a future,
or the lack of one.
Of losing hope,
in a world where i cannot find my place.
Crestfallen, afflicted and diseased.

The audience are baffled,
It wouldnt be long before they send in the clowns,
And so i leapt,
Higher and higher i soared,

I am not afraid of heights,
I am not afraid of taking the road less traveled,
I am just afraid of being left here,
On flat ground,
Not going anywhere.

And so i kept dancing.


- Jamie Tay
Monday, 05 06 2006

Handbags and Gladrags

HANDBAGS AND GLADRAGS - STEREOPHONICS

Ever seen a blind man cross the road,
Try'na make the other side,
Ever seen a young girl growing old,
Try'na to make herself a bride,
So what becomes of you my love,
When they have finally stripped you of,
The handbags and the gladrags,
That your poor old Granddad had to sweat to buy you,

Once I was a young man,
All I thought I had to do was smile,
Well You are still a young girl,
And you bought everything in style,
So once you think you're in, you're out,
'Cause you don't mean a single thing without,
The handbags and the gladrags,
That your poor old Granddad had to sweat to buy you,

Sing a song of six-pence for your sake,
And drink a bottle full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds in a cake,
And bake them all in a pie,
They told me you missed school today,
So what I suggest you just throw them all away,
The handbags and the gladrags,
That your poor old Granddad had to sweat to buy you,

They told me you missed school today,
So what I suggest you just throw them all away,
The handbags and the gladrags,
That your poor old Granddad had to sweat to buy you.


Lovely track by the Stereophonics, was just hopping out of the shower on a rainy Sunday afternoon, towel in hand and hair still drip-a-dropping when i first heard this song. At times like these you wish time would come to a standstill. To buy CDs list is getting longer, with the moolah running low, no more chocolates and chips, after all, good music feeds one more than food ever could.

Love After Love

LOVE AFTER LOVE

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat,
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

- Derek Walcott

Curve balls

Much on my mind lately, i dont think i have thought as much in the last couple of years as i have the last couple of weeks. Each time i tried penning my thoughts i convulsed into bouts of depression and fear that leaves me regressing into the little me that i have come so far. I suppose this is one of those things you'll know when it is right. There will be no hesitation, no doubts and tears, only joy. Like all the shitty things in life, i know this one too, will pass. Perhaps for now, it is okay to feel awful, depressed and shitty, until i am ready to pick myself up. I just wish i hadnt let this pride thing get in the way, that it is okay to be weak sometimes, especially in the face of the one you love most. But no, i had to be all Xena and Joan of Arc, its just that, i didnt want you to see the side of me that wasnt strong, insecurity maybe, or perhaps a form of self-defense, i just couldnt let it all out. I know you are there, and you have done more than i thought you would, and i know that i am not alone, so thank you.

Spring cleaning, so said a friend, you'll find yourself in a happier place at the end of the year. *fingers crossed* my love, keep yours crossed for me. The worst is yet to come, i fear not what is physical, that i have reckoned to be a breeze, we'll just have to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

Summer, my least favourite season of the year. We'll just have to bite our tongues and get it over and done with, after all, autumn is but a quarter of a year away.

When I die

First of all, there is the music, there are a couple of songs i want played. Just to name a few -

1. God Only Knows - The Beach Boys
2. Let There Be Love - Oasis
3. Other Side Of The World - KT Tunstall
4. Hallelujah - Kathryn Williams
5. Fix You - Coldplay

I dont mind being cremated, a burial is too expensive here in Singapore. There is the flowers, daisies and daisies only, i dont want the usual crappy chrysanthemums, its too depressing, and lets face it, they are not the prettiest of flowers. A simple and short affair is what i want, with close friends and family saying a little something about me, i dont want a pastor with bad english who cant say my name right to be there. Laugh a little, cry a little, and goodbye it is.

These shoes are not made for walking

March has come and gone. Spring has manifested herself in the most resplendent of red and yellow, pink and green. Perhaps it was the glorious sun peeping through the trees, casting shadows of dancing figures that deluded you, maybe it was the lulling concerto of the birds that pulled at your heartstrings, for some unknown and nevertheless bizarre reason, you decided to take me out for a walk in the park, at 2 in the afternoon. Dressed in my favourite feathered sandals and ethnic black ensemble, (those were the only clean clothes and shoes i have that day) we made for the park. The first 30 minutes were as romantic as i'd imagined it to be, my arm in yours, we sauntered along, giggling and fighting, the endless skies and sea amalgamated into one.

"Patata, thats Greek for potato, and tomato?" you asked.
"ermmm, tomata?"
"ehh la malaka, tomata!"

And so patata i became, and tomata you were. Frivolous conversation fitting for a capricious afternoon of frolicking under the sun. It was fun until my sandals began to give and my top began to stick to my back.

"Shall we continue or do you want to head back?"
"Ehh, lets go home, i've had enough."

And so, we headed home. On foot. From East Coast Park to Katong we walked, and walked, and walked.

"There is a song playing in my head tomata - The road is long, with many a winding turns, that leads us to where, who knows where..."
"Keep up patata, we would have got home by now if it wasnt for you."
"I would be crazy to do this again. I would have to be. "

That was, until you turned around, spread your arms wide opened and locked me in your embrace, sweat and all.

"Are we there yet, this is the great wall of china, we'll never get there." I lamented.
"You're are useless malaka, useless."

And then you kissed me. The tenderest of kisses.
I'd be crazy not to do it again.

Breathe and Reboot

Monday.
A few deep breaths, and
Reboot in progress;
Blue, ohh yeah, ohh noo, blue.
:(

Absurdity

I have had one of the most bizarre dream ever last night, i was speeding in a Formula One race. And i dont even have a driver's license. And Michael Schumacher was laughing at me. (It could have been with me, but my instincts are more inclined towards the former) Tsk Tsk. What in the world was that about?

Mummy Dearest

How long is it going to last this time? A week? Maybe two? Or are you going to make this one last as long as you can? I have had enough of this cold war shit, it is getting old, too old. I am 20 fucking 7 Ma, maybe it is time you get into that head of yours that i am never going to be the dutiful and obedient daughter that you want me to be. I do love you, and if there is one thing in the world i can be sure of, it'll be that you love me. So why can't we do without the fights? Why cant we be civil for once? Just for a month, 30 days, thats all i ask for.

Why you asked? Why didnt i tell you i wont be coming home? Why didnt i tell you where i was? Because you have to get used to it thats why, because one day soon i am going to leave you, and i wont be calling you every single night to tell you where i went, what i did, who i was with. And you have to learn to deal with it, you have to know that i will be fine. I promise not to get myself killed, i will try my hardest. I am not a kid anymore Ma, if you treat me like one, i will act like one. And it is scary, the thought of leaving you, the thought of heading out and making it on my own. I am so used to the sheltered life that you and pa have given me. I am not sure if i am going to make it, i am not sure that i am going to do just as good, but i have to, i want to.

I am scared out of my wits just thinking about it, but not half as excited and hungry for a life of my own. And for the last time, one doesnt have to be married to be an adult. You for one, should know that, you were barely 20 when you had your first child, and you did fine didnt you? It will take a lot of getting used to, no more home-made soup to come home to, no more you waking me up in the mornings when i oversleep, no more of your experimental pasta and sushi and no more of you nagging me, even that i am going to miss. And what are you going to do without me? Fuck, what are you going to do without me? Who will translate english movies to teochew for you? Who will tell you stories of the colourful world? Who will follow you from bathroom to kitchen, all the time telling you that it is not right to discriminate races, sexes and sexual preferences? Who will tell you that your curry is excellent and your soup is bland?

We'll survive wont we? Promise?

The Elder Sis

My love,
Sometimes i worry about you,
You, the goody-two-shoes,
You, the perpetually confused.

You may be thirty and one,
But trust me when i say,
You hardly look nor think like one.

Marriage is but a piece of paper,
There are more things in life that matter,
Do not tie the knot,
If he is what you think not.

Your life is yours to lead,
Do take all the time you need,
I wish you love and eternal bliss,
My dearly beloved sis.

The List

I have just decided that neither rainstorm nor earthquake is going to make me leave the house this weekend (except that we have neither of those here). There can be no temptation so great that could entice me from my oh-so-comfortable single bed in my commodiously single bedroom with my fabulously single furnishings. There are some days that i need to be alone, like absolutely and completely. I cannot be with people Mondays to Sundays, day in day out. It has a very bad consequence of driving me crazy. Bad enough that i still live with my parents and siblings, now i have a cousin who is home all the time, so what used to be my alone time has been robbed of, properly. And so i thought a weekend at the boyfriend's house would be a refreshing change, since there is just him and two roomies who are hardly ever in. Huge mistake. Boyfriend's place is not equivalent to MY place. Its not that i dont like the place, its clean, its air-conditioned and the refrigerator is always well stocked with munchies of sorts. So i made a list of the likes and dislikes, just to prove that i am not that difficult of a person to live with. Lets start with the dislikes -

Why i dont like staying over:

1. First of all, as a woman, i speak for all, staying over is an affair that is comparable to taking a short trip. You have to think about what you are going to wear over the couple of days, what shoes with which pair of jeans with which top with which bag and what accessories. And you cant change your mind because you've packed only those that you have decided before. And let me just say - FUCK! We cant wear the same outfit for coffee and clubbing afterwards. We are women, we change our outfits as often as we change our minds. Its not our fault.
2. And then there is the toiletries. We dont wash our faces with soap for goodness sake's! And certainly not with the same bar we soaped our bodies with! Here's what we need - Facial wash, facial scrub, toner, moisturiser, shampoo, conditioner, and shower foam. I know what you are going to say next, that i can leave these things at his place. Of course i know that, i just dont want to get too comfortable, if you know what i mean.
3. I do spend a lot of time in the bathroom, and i like to read when i do a number 2. Its a life-long habit, i cant just go and concentrate on going, i need a book to read when i do so. So if you see me going into the bathroom with a book its like announcing that i am about to do a number 2 and i have a problem with that too.
4. I am not good with sharing, i dont have a habit of sharing my bed with another. If its a single bed, its not made for 2. Like i have said before, i need to propel from one side of the bed to another, and i cant do that when someone takes up more than his half of the bed. I snore, i drool, i talk in my sleep, hell i even sleep with my eyes open, and i dont need to hear about them when i wake up.
   
5. Being the klutz that i am, i drop, spill and break things, and i am not comfortable doing that at someone else's place.
6. The weekends are especially precious and i dont like it when i feel that i have wasted them doing none of the things i planned to do. If i have a movie planned, i have a movie planned, if i need to do laundry, i need to do the laundry, if i have a book to finish, i have a book to finish. And i kind of like to mix them up a little as i go along, read a little, do a little laundry, watch disc 1 of a dvd and laundry again and things like that. Spending the weekend at someone else's place means that i dont get to do any of the above and i keep thinking of the unfinished chores waiting for me. It gets on my nerves.
7. I dont like to be told what i can or cannot do. I am not just a kid. I know what i can or cannot do.

Now for the good list:

1. I like it when you are there when i am thinking of you. And you make me laugh. Plus i know that i would kick myself for not spending enough time with you when you leave for good.
   

I think i may be a more difficult person than i think i really am. A little selfish too. Oh well, thats just me. Long weekend ahead, chores to be done, ughhh. I KNOW! Cheerios for now.

Love

Love is -

an addictive drug; an adrenaline that makes you feel alive; a misfortune; cupid's curse; a famine and a drought; a chaotic and confusing occupation; a mistake we made when we were 17, and again at 20, and 24, and again, and again. Love is all that and a many splendored things. And lately, love has become something else, something different and rather incomprehensible. "Has become" are probably not the right words to use, perhaps love has always been, and silly me have not made room for the possibility. Instead, I just kept asking myself daft questions like: How could you make me sun dried tomato ciabatta at 8 in the morning, then buy me Ferrero Rocher chocolates from Greece? It just doesnt add up. How could you not say the words i want to hear, not even something remotely close to what i want to hear? And what happened to my breakfasts in bed? And the compulsive urge to see each other all the time, or at least most of the time? Why do I always feel like i am the difficult one when all i asked for is a normal relationship? (Then again, i am reminded that none of my past relationships could come close to being "normal", or none that i know of, for that matter.) You are a far cry from what i expected. Your aberrant ways threw me off time and time again, I was convinced that i mean nothing to you.

My mind was so pre-occupied with the things that you didnt do and the words you didnt say that i overlooked the things that you did do, and the words that you did say. The tenderness in your eyes caught me by surprise, it may not seem good enough a reason for me to stay, but it is enough, at least for now, because with you, i have learnt to expect little, if not, nothing. Maybe some loves are not meant to be flamboyant or loud, or romantic. Maybe its not all about the big gestures or the "i love yous". Maybe some loves are meant to be quiet and reserved. Maybe you are good enough because I hear my heart singing each time you are near. And you made me smile, a day spent with you would put a silly grin on my face that lasts an entire week. You are my energizer and duracell, these mawkish confessions are making my hair stand but still, I feel the need to put these into words, to have a hard copy of these thoughts and feelings, so the next time i feel lost and confused, i'll have something, something to hold on to. It doesnt mean i have forfeited my future rights to be pissed, frustrated or disgruntled, mind you, i'm still very much the unsatisfied customer as it is. But from now onwards, i am taking the passenger seat and handing over the wheels. I'll try to shut up and enjoy the birds and the bees as we drive along and be happy. :) And of course, i'm quite sure i'd die if you do read this.

A song to end -

God Only Knows - The Beach Boys

I may not always love you
But long as there are stars above you
You never need to doubt it
I'll make you so sure about it
God only knows what I'd be without you

If you should ever leave me
Though life would still go on, believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would livin' do me
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you

God only knows what I'd be without you

If you should ever leave me
Well life would still go on believe me
The world could show nothing to me
So what good would living do me
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you

God only knows
God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you

Pourquoi?

But the thing is, um, what I'm trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are. - Bridget Jones Diary (Darcy to Jones)

And its not because you might be leaving for good. - Malaka

This Beauiful Life

Not a great start to the new year, its becoming harder and harder to lift one's sprits when you are losing hold of yourself. My favourite season of the year is soon approaching its end, as i watched the last of the rain washed away all that is old and expired to make room for the new and the now, a sense of despair sets in. Dark and gloomy thoughts proliferate; Life. This is life. This is LIFE? Excuse me but i was told that you are beautiful, that you are dear, that you bring promises, and that you are, too, very huggable indeed. The shitty thing is, i was prepared for all of the above, i was pretty sure that my ma and pa wouldnt lie. I do remember a time where you were loveable and all that. The year was 1986, it was 6.45 am, I was eight then, i was waiting for the school bus, it was a beautiful morning, the hibiscus were in bloom, large, beautiful, red things. I couldnt wait to go to school, more honestly, I couldnt wait to show my friends my new Transformer pencil case, and at recess time, we were going to play hopscotch, and the losers had to buy the winners ice-cream! At times i wondered if i could die from an overdose of happiness, like on Sundays, where they played Smurfs and Donald Duck cartoons on television. Everyday was merry. I was happy. I was hopeful.

What happened Life? Ohh yes, i grew up, that much i recalled, and you, you became ugly. And suddenly everyone's saying that you are hard, you stink like they knew it all the while. Why didnt they tell me before? I would have been better prepared then, or would I? I am 20 fucking 7, well, not yet but soon. What have i accomplished? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. What am i good at? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Who am I? Nothing. Zero. Zilch. The year is 2006. 7.10 am, i am waiting for the company bus, it is a rainy morning, the hibiscus are in bloom, large, beautiful, red things. I heard a voice in my head: "throw yourself at the next vehicle that comes along. do it. go on." I am scared, terrified. Surely this is not the only way out. I am not going to be miserable forever. I'll be happy again. I want to. I have to. I will figure it out. I will be well again. Must try harder. Must not give in.

There is so much to look forward to, things to see, places to go, dreams to fulfil, people to love. Trees and birds and rainbows and smoking chimneys. Tell me that you are beautiful. Life. Show me your beauty.

Depression

"What if life doesnt work out?"

A Christmas Masquerade

Christmas 2005 - My mum will kill me when she sees these but what the hell.




Thank you dearest Moe, for the beautiful dress. I felt like a mermaid and a star all at the same time. :) This picture of ours is one of our best in years!



Moi, mon Cowboy et mon Diva.



Dennis, myself and Agus.



The gals - Tricia, YY, myself and Faith.



The gals again, this time with Dennis.



Us, acting cool and trying not to burst out laughing.



The Evil Queen, her bad Santarinas and her Royal Henchman.



My bouncers and me.



Cowgirl.



Me and JJ.



Hairstylist at work.



Our very own make-up artist-Melvin. Muacks, thank you for making us beautiful, love ya lots.



Santa Claus himself!



JJ & her chick-YY.



Lagas in Black.



One more of the girls, from left - Adrian, Tricia, YY, Myself & Faith.





























These are the last of the pictures, forgive me if there are duplicates, rumour has it that we have taken more than 500 photographs that night. Tsk tsk, bunch of narcissists. I've a little speech prepared on Christmas eve, it turns out i still think its too mushy to actually say them/write them. Suffice it to say, you people are the love of my life and i love y'all. :)