As it is.

When do ...

2008-08-18T20:43:00.003+08:00

Differences that once thrilled, like a shot of adrenalin to the heart become a chasm to wide to bridge, that splits a union into clear, independent entities.

Without realizing it, I've begun to nag him. Short of asking him outrightly to quit his smoking habit, have done everything from "I can't stand the smell of smoke". When he drinks, it seems like he loses control. When he wants to spend money on me, in the back of my head I want to stop him from fishing out notes or charging it to his credit card. Behind each reflexive no, is an extricable connection with my intention of safeguarding the future.

I don't want him to die early - because I don't want to be alone.

I don't want him to do something he would regret - like unwittingly cheat on me when he's drunk and break my heart, because I know I will despise him and leave him if he does. For him, there is only one shot. Prematurely, one shot over a life time with me.

I don't want him to dig himself into a pit of debt - because I know I'll resent him if he does, since I grew up under largely leveraged circumstances. My investment/financial decisions are grounded on the avoidance of landing me in the burden of debt, my parents had to bear in the early parts of my life. Relieved only recently.

I hate that I nag. I hate that I nag because I'm afraid of situations that spiral beyond my control.

Fundamentally, pushing aside the currents of tension that have manifested in small ripples early in our relationship so far, these characteristics conflict fundamentally with my own. Masked, however, with the desire to see him before I sleep, the way I'm touched when he makes my breakfast, when he washes my back, or combs my hair.

A New Sense of Over

2008-08-13T19:12:00.007+08:00

Still in Chennai, and another year to go here before a next major decision will have to be made. A career path has indeed gathered form, not yet a year in count but soon in a whisker. If one had the visual gift of tracing the line up of events retrospectively, in a somewhat edifying posture, I’d like to allude it to a divine constellation.

In a very new sense of over, He can be now be officially bestowed the epithet, sealed and locked away named as “The One that Got Away”, the same one who inspired this moniker – nubilewordsmith, the same one who kept me in thrall, whom I thought was my soulmate, whom I loved and still love, who tore my heart into shreds over several years until the day I walked away about 2 years ago after sending that email, knowing that staying would be my own emotional destruction. Two roads diverged.

You’re getting married - as I found out by way of your new fiancée whose existence I’d really have been rather content to be ignorant of, until she chose to contact me a fortnight ago. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. I chose not to respond, already having to deal with an unwelcome and thoroughly overwhelming sense of clawing grief mingled with jealousy, that made me wish that I was in her shoes. I think despite it all, I still hoped, tears under the bridge .

You did say, you can love more than one person at once. And I truly believe you – an unfortunate truth as it is. I’m sorry I cannot wish you well, that is beyond the stretch of my benevolent capacity. I grieve.

There is someone else in the picture now. Its early days, but its promise brings me undeniable comfort, balm to the sadness that somehow seeped in.

Return.

2007-09-11T01:24:00.000+08:00

How awkward this fumbling start.

The words come out choppy staccato-like, harshly I would say a bumbling idiot. In mercy, I would blame my now handicapped brain - riddled with the bullets holes of business theory. I figure – their semi-welcomed assault dulled my sensitivities. Grey nuances have become strangers, and the words to capture them, extraterrestrial. Verbal Tactile, yes, she has gone far away, too far. I wonder if I have lost it. That lyrical quality all gone – but then again, maybe I was never the writer with beautiful, melodious notes which mime as words and weave syntax into masterpieces. That’s how I fancy/fancied myself after coming across a blog, with a such a soul searing quality that struck through the calluses of commercial practicality which has become ingrained like the cost-benefit analysis process that is automatically launched with each tick in my head.

But you know, I think I was never that kind of writer.

Wit, humor and a little tartness of the aftertaste of angst – that was me. Irreverent, maybe.

I am determined to find her again – it’s me, a composite of my soul. Words are far more an essence of me than any Valuation Model would ever be. I cannot continue lying to myself and I won’t.

Come back to me, wordsmith-self. Losing you was definitely not worth the rate of return.

I might not make a good banker/trader/accountant/cashier

2007-06-15T14:53:00.000+08:00

I see smooth, shiny green apples packed in fives at the supermarket. I'm like "Ooooh", Granny Smith's and just 50,000 Vietnam Dong that makes 50 Singapore Cents. Cheap, cheap - so I buy them then I realize, Oh Crap - I paid a dollar for an apple. ( 1 SGD = 10,000 Dong approximately).

Yesterday I got food delivered, 42,000 dong right? So I give a 100,000 Dong note and a 2,000 Dong note and asks if she has a 50,000 one which she gives. I take my food and close the door, but not before her surprised look and "Thank you!" more enthusiastically than usual. I'm like, someone sure is happy today. 2 seconds later, I'm like FUCK.

I'm also real scroogey when I take the cab to work back and forth - minium average 28,500 Dong to work and slightly more back. When it goes to 33,000 and beyond - I get bloody uncomfortable and irrationally paranoid because I think the cab driver is taking me for a ride. Which has happened more than once. There was this guy in the same guest house - Australian I think, who got charged 40 USD for a ride which should have been well under 5 USD.

You guys think a couple cents is not a big deal? It damn right does, if you order every day. Plus, I lost about 1,100 SGD on the stock market which explains why I'm really tetchy about money lately. I got my intern allowance banked into my account one day and the next day is gone minus about 300 SGD more. Then the sales exec (who I consider a friend, but not a close friend) sitting next to me is asking how my stock is doing, he telling me his Vietnam Stock Holdings has declared a dividend and he is making profits. "Going up, going up?" I'm like er no, I want it to go down, I short sold. He doesn't understand, because he asks the same question again. Which kinda serves me right - i guess. Back home you guys would call me ghey Khiang, I know I know. Happened about 2-3 Weeks ago.

Hoes and Such

2007-06-09T12:34:00.000+08:00

At about 70% of the clubs here, one can feel an atmosphere with a certain degree of Orchard Towers concentrate. So even at the regular clubs, you get plenty of working women. Happens less like this in Singapore, even if Attica now so I've heard has a couple of Thai working girls showing faces there.

I'm actually cool with prostituition. Well at least in the purest sense of a business transaction - money in exchange for sex. I'm not okay with the tarnished version - which I see a lot more, where now the transaction just doesn't involve sex per se, but in it the allowance to treat the lady with disrespect. Which is still not that bad, if the effects are contained within the transaction. There's however also something known as a spillover effect, where the many many men take it to mean that all the other non-working women around can be treated in the similar manner. Now, I have a major issue that.

Last night, we get this Cambodian working lady - who was quite beautiful in the dark. Then the lights flashed and I saw a pizza- like face under the lights and cake foundation. Her "boyfriend" was this overweight, greasy, drunk guy in his 50s. If you want a mental image, you could think Bam's Uncle in Viva La Bam. Or Borat, Borat's manager in the movie. You see this beautiful enchantress was trying to get a girl for a threesome. And she starting hitting on a friend I was with. ( In my opinion, she's was really cute - her apppearance was slightly andro-femme way, but she's straight - maybe my type, less lipstick lesbian) Which was flattering to her, till Ms Cambodia got a little to persistent this resulting in my friend making a disappearance to the toilet for a while). Ms Cambodia would be the femme fatale type, she would probably pick a less conspicuous girl so as not to steal the thunder in the bedroom. Again we were dancing in a group, and the annoying twat kept edging herself in the middle of our friends.

Okay, most my Viet girl friends are all shorter than me ( standing at 5'5; 5'7 in heels) which makes me the body guard when ugly foreign old men start fancying themself fanciable them to. Of course if the guy is hot, I step back discreetly as anyone in the secret service would know :) So yes, there I was warning off ( Tapping one of them on the shoulder glaring at him and motioning for him to move his fat ass) 2 separate instances one night fat old men last night - Korean, White dudes who were getting a bit to close to my friend. She's a couple years older than me, but I think she looks younger because of her size.

Sometimes I think, maybe it would be more fun to be at a place that was less "meat market". Plus the Music sucked ass. Oh yeah, meat market alright - I even saw 2 guys haggling furiously over price. He was getting worked up, screaming "fuck, this fucking that - I'm not going to pay that amount". His other friend was happy and already settled the price with the other girl. So I saw both of them ending the night with another pair of ladies.

Its an interesting place though. I lost key keys last night. And had to wake up early for work this morning. But I have a 2 hour spa treatment coming up. I'm happy.

Vung Tau

2007-06-07T21:01:00.000+08:00

Trip out this weekend to the closest beach to Ho Chi Minh. About 2 - 3 hours out, depending on traffic. As said and heard by the many before me, not that fantastic a beach but its a change of scenery from the claustrophobic city. There's something I have to say about the City air though - people complain its polluted. I think its bollocks. Yeah, you've got the ever ubitiqious ninja chicks on bikes. Its not that bad. Friends have mentioned that Beijing is worse. I, for one think that the air in India is 2 CBM thicker with dust/unmentionable floating particles than it is here. Think stepping out to the neighbourhood shop, you could slide a finger tip on your cheek Voila, you can call yourself an artist. Or wear a collared white shirt, take it off at the end of the day - you get the stain of brown lovin' on the collar.

Also above, pictures of dog racing. Vietnam is a nation of gamblers. Yes, the government have banned the local vietnamese from the casinos here ( though I have to say that many have found ways around it) and they find other means of betting. Greyhounds are quite pretty, lean and I like them. Best thing about the trip was the seafood. Awesome, fresh and cheap. Headed there with a couple of local Vietnamese and French friends. I enjoyed myself, but was glad the weekend was over. Sometimes, its nice to get a weekend of rest. Oh yeah, throw in a massage given by quite young, strong looking lads =) The other chicks who are couple years older than me mentioned that my "guy" would have been quite happy with a smaller tip and reckoned that he would have massaged me for free anyway. I'm happy. Not happy as in the infamous happy ending happy. Mind you.

Headed out to one of the clubs there. Atrocious techno music. But still a nice sight to see people dancing without rythm. Respect for those who go out there and have fun, even if the sight is less than MTV-routine synchronized.

I Judge Thee Not

2007-06-07T15:54:00.000+08:00

My General Sentiment

Of course, I’ve gone past the whole idealized, almost smug-state of “ I don’t judge”. Growing up, you finally realize that if you don’t make judgements, you would be living as a dunce in a constant state of flux and indecision. Oh come on, you need to judge whether people are good for you, worth your time, trust and love. You need to judge the cords need to be severed with a particularly heinous person/entity. Its completely acceptable and necessary to pass judgement. Pre-judgement as well. So the word prejudice really isn’t that big a taboo. Judegement, prejudice is mostly fine as long as you’re able to be flexible enough to re-evaluate your judgement when contrary evidence comes to light. It’s the rigidity in any sense is what that should be censured. I’m also not above passing a casual, albeit callous judgements on people I don’t care for or know that well. Rotten maybe,er so effing what?

The Problem

So really, the dilemma surfaces when you’re in a situation where you have to try to resist judging those you care about and “Others”. The latter being a grey area which is a little more than complicated – when you don’t necessarily love or care much for them but feel some sort of obligation, urge albeit unnatural not to pass such quick or harsh judgement on them. See, today I had lunch with an aquaintance (P) – the use of the word friend is strong, and in here used lightly. I would call him an acquaintence of affinity for. Let me qualify, nothing in a sexual or romantic sense. I recognize some sort of myself in him, or maybe maybe 3 or 4 years ago where I was honest bold and a lot more forthright – and naïve. Yes, now I’m a deceitful lil bitch who delights in releasing her pandora’s box of mind-fuck games.Okay,okay - not quite, but I’m not the same person.

But I’m resisting trying to pass judgement on his character, since he has honestly told me so. Plus, I did say – nah, don’t worry I don’t judge ( It shot right out of my mouth automatically, didn’t have time to stop it), when he said now you think I’m a bad guy.

Here’s some background. P is from the States sent here to work. P is shagging 2 women here concurrently, excluding the girlfriend he has back home. We’re having a discussion on women, men and getting laid in Saigon.He’s already told the 2 girls his situation, so he’s honest, he says. He describe the first girl. Small, cute, no tits, great kisser. Dodgy. Because she’s able to fly to Singapore and stay at the Mandarin 2 weeks straight. We speculare that she’s an escort or kept woman. Girl 2. Decent girl, your built, maybe more meat, big ass – I like big asses. Great tits,bad kisser. His words.

He’s an open book, he says. Meaning he’s honest. Well he’s been up front to them – I respect that. Till I heard he had a girl back home. Still not fazed. Open relationship, I ask. No, I don’t know, maybe she does. I glad he’s honest with the 2 girls here. But I can’t help but feel irked that its on a don’t ask, don’t tell basis.

Just a side comment/side note but not the main suhject of this entry. My stand on cheating – I understand and won’t judge if the cheating was done when relationships were strained. But cheating because you can (repeatedly), it’s a different story.So to the above title, in this case it does not hold true. While I won’t treat him differently as a friend and person (used loosely), sure as hell glad that I’m not his significant other – and would always remain on my platonic list till the end of the universe. Is that judgement passed? Er I don’t know. How terribly grey.

The Night's Still Young.

2007-05-06T02:28:00.000+08:00

Well, the police shut down the clubs early today. I had great company - pity was looking to dance the night away. That's what I've been doing the past 3 weekends ; hitting the clubs, casino's and almost free 5star hotel buffets. Might seem like a bit of an over kill, but its compensation for the last 6 months in hibernation.

You know why they shut down the clubs early? Because apparently there was a drug bust in Hanoi and it illogically filtered down South to Ho Chi Minh. Though honestly, I don't see how closing a club early would be consequently effective in eradicating drug abuse. So the deejay was under orders to kill the dancefloor. They did this by playing Blue's "One Love", " Hotel California" - the latter being a nice song, but man - its no way a club anthem.

Getting used to the very interesting and campy bordering on cheesy night life here. To be honest, I'm having more fun here than I did couple months back in Singapore. I've met many people and hope to continue meeting people. Too early to say they will be good friends - but the early prognosis is good. Have met 2 girls - LH and L, that have proved to be fun and people I could seriously get along with. Both are from different social circles, but I have fun in both circles. I headed out with LH's friends tonight - Couple of French-Viet Girls and their French Boyfriends, who were absolutely funny.

Who earns my respect, people who go out there and have fun - w/o giving a shit what people think. I like to see people have fun - even if its an energetic mass of uncoordinated jerky movments versus oh-i-am -so-goddamn-fucking-cool with the brief slight hip movements, oh yeah . Move bitches get outta way, clear the floor for those who know and want to have fun. Also, move bitch, when some lone chick suddenly dances into your circle of friends who are dancing. I don't know if its a phenomenom here, or maybe just one at "clubs" with no clear demarcated dance floor. People actually stand still right smack in the middle of the floor like a statue. Also two out of 3 nights, I had different chicks who probably thought they were the bomb, waddle straight into my group of friends and dance right in the middle of our circle. I'm like HELLO????? Look Girl, I know you're workin' ( pun intended) it, trying to get that old white fart's attention, but quit bumping right into me thinking that your chicken dance is sexy.

Updates and Overdue Pics

2007-05-01T13:01:00.000+08:00

This is the Notre Dame Cathedral, in Ho Chi Minh, I think. I might be wrong and I seriously currently be arsed to check it out. Was taken in my first week here. Anyone who knows me, knows I rather spend time chilling at a cafe over a drink, absorbing the atmosphere, people watching - hopefully inconspicuosly rather than heading to tourist traps. No matter how beautiful they are. Of course exceptions are made if I have companions.

A typical vietnamese alley - where many restaurants are housed. Some times the small cosy streets remind me of the little town of Dharamsala a 12-hour winding ride up in the moutaints.

This photo was taken the day I landed. Well, I ran into these 4 school mates from uni in Singapore. Well, the guy I know personally, the other 3 might be exchange students. See how small the world is. That's why I thought it was absolutely necessary to snap a shot of them.

Hotel Majestic. An old, but restored 4 or 5* hotel in the city. Apparently, they have a really nice rooftop - cafe-cum-bar that has an amazing view of the city at night. Also a former popular

watering hole with US soldiers in the war in the 1960s. Will check that out sometime.

Ban Xeo - Or Viet Pancake and Fried Rolls. One of the food establishments with a greater local flavour. Bean Sprouts, pork , shrimp in between the crepe folds. You break a piece of, fold in within lettuce leaves, basil and other fresh herbs that Viets are so fond of. Then you dunk in the fish sauce. You know one thing that confused me was the fact that some western publications I have come across describe fish sauce as "pungent". Er, durian and jack food is pungent. For me, even the name fish sauce is a misnomer when it comes to the taste and smell. It really doesn't smell or taste like dead fish you know. Hardly a hint of fish. Its good by the way.

Fire eating dragon-lady on the restaurant cruise boat a long a river - during a company dinner. Food was great - ambience circa 1970s. Chic would be totally in appropriate, campy would be precise. I had fun. The Vietnamese love to kara-oke cantonese songs. Fire-eating lady's, pulsating raunchy dance which gyrations according to ah beng techno music, while no where in the indecent league as lap dance given in thestrip clubs, I felt slightly embarrassed as kids stood on there chairs and gathered near the stage to watch.

Alright, I know I suck at photography - but those are already the best pictures I picked from the lot. Think cruise ship galley, fluorescent,neon,lights. Make-shift karaoke booth in front of the stage. A colleague of mine, said to me he'd tell the waiter pick me a song and that I'll go sing it. You know - it wasn't like he was trying to sabotage me or something. It was more like its an "honor" or a great fun thing to do. I was absolutely horrified. It never happened of course. All due respect to their national past- time, but croaking embarrassingly to an audience isn't my idea of fun.

Little Nuggets

2007-04-27T10:16:00.000+08:00

Nugget #1:

I realized my initial attempt at avoiding all kinds of street food has come to naught. Always thought it was great that I have breakfast prepared for me at the guest house in the mornings. You know, having covered most of not all grounds of exposing myself to potentially tummy churning foods. Till I found out the pho-like noodle soup that I have some mornings, was actually bought from the old lady vendor at squats near the pavement outside the alley that leads to the guest house :O

Good thing news - I have a fairly resilient belly then. Not about to think I'm all invincible, I still skipped all the raw oysters and other kinds of seafood. Last night one of the dishes they ordered was frog's legs - nothing wrong, given that frog leg porridge is a commom dish back home in Singapore. And that white, skinless frog legs are available at NTUC. Somehow my brain never made the translation where frogs had green skin in the Frog and the Princess story books and the white skinned-frogs in my porridge. So imagine my surprise, when I see 3 frogs in their full mossy greenish glory, engraved with the dark lines from the grill on the plate. :

Nugget#2:

Zebra crossings on the streets are mere decorations, as properly enlightened by a friend yesterday. One way you could tell a local from a foreigner assuming both are asian, is the way they cross the road.

Nugget #3:

You know the surgical face masks people took to wearing in the 2003 SARS crisis in Singapore - they make and wear cloth versions here, with floral motiffs and the like. Well, they're known as Ninja's here.

The First Weekend

2007-04-23T16:00:00.000+08:00

Well, it was pretty good, that I'll admit. Managed to meet up with a nice girl Huong - through an internet friend who put me in touch with her. Thank God for the wonders of the internet. Also had dinner with a relatively youthful "yuppie" crowd down here in HCM - met 2 other interns with a local fund. Headed on down to several clubs after that. Wasn't too bad for the first weekend. A fine fella caught my eye - this young Viet-Australian lawyer. He had a near-shaven head, you know how I dig that. Well, he sure wasn't interested in me. Psssh. And he left early too. Bummer. But two of the very nice interns made sure I got home safe. Eh. One of them even held my hand at the end of the night - cute too. So sweet, but moi knows a practiced fellow when she sees one.

But other than that, my life remains relatively ripple-free. Work got slightly better today, hope it lasts.

Babysitting

2007-04-20T09:56:00.000+08:00

Usually, I’m on the otherside – the babysitter. Now, I’m the baby sitted , in the office that is. When I was in India, I struggled hard to be taken seriously, and had to keep pushing before I eventually was. Its looks like its going to be this way here to. Don’t get me wrong , from a social perspective the people are kind, generous and welcoming. Even, if people are kind, generous and welcoming its not going to be help me learn if I hardly even get hands on work. Perhaps its my first week and the work isn’t rolling in just yet. However, things like the fact I’m not going to get my own email account – and that I can use another person’s account if the need be, sounds suspiciously like I’m just being baby sitted. Additionally, the fact the I didn’t need to key in the bookings that just came in, because it wasn’t the usual type and was “complex” and no invitation to watch and learn, plus the fact that I have time to write blog entries, monitor my stock portfolio continuously, know the details of the VT Shooting. Sheesh. Don’t know.

I’ll give it till the end of this week before the bull-dozing starts for me. Diplomatically, of course. But I refuse to let this turn into a Vacation for me. 3 months is a lot of time in terms of opportunity cost – had I another internship instead. There are times when you need encouragement and advice, and I did email my former team leader in India. I hope he replies me.

Things I dig about Vietnam

2007-04-18T19:27:00.000+08:00

The people :
They're probably the most sincere and warm people I've met. I'm quite amazed, this coming from Singapore - land of the paper pushers. My colleagues, one of them - Judy took me to one of the markets during lunch to get a thick quilt I could sleep on ( not under) on her motorbike. Another Ahn, volunteered to send me home after work and she also took me for dinner today, at this fabulous duck vermicelli store. Another Thien, volunteered to show me around. The lady that runs the guest house, Tham, always warm and helpful. And many others.

The Food:
Love it, love it love it. If anyone of you think that Viet food stops at the O in pho - You'll be in for a treat.

Transport:
Its affordable to cab around , and hailing one off the street is easy peasy. Well, living in Gurgaon, India for a while, one year ago - I can say that the accessibility of the city is so important and I value that. Its relatively safe too, in India I didn't feel too safe by myself out at night.

Ah, more to add to the list I'm sure as I'm discovering. There's the bitch list too, but you know, I don't need anymore negativity now - so I'll save it for later .

Well, it good that I'm out of my comfort zone, pushing boundaries. I like to think what doesn't break me would equip me better to deal with situations that would confront me further down the road. Yeah, its true - its not easy making friends, but you know what, I be damned if I sit and whine and not do anything productive about it. Well, speaking about comfort zone - I did make myself take the motorbike, people who know about me know its no easy feat trying to coax a Singaporean out of the stereotypical "scaredy-cat" mindset. I'd have reconsider if the bikes are zooming at 50 km/more per hour, but they usually go around 30km/h here.

I'm feeling good :)

Time Does Tell

2007-04-18T12:27:00.000+08:00

(Currently in the office, with some free time – well time seems to past a lot faster if I do something rather than just surfing, so I decided to write)

Not necessarily with laser- like precision, but a fairly good indication I say. Just before a left for Vietnam, “Coffee” was arranged with a certain individual. Some history, this individual was what I would term a Mild Flirtation - I met at a friend’s party more than 2 years back. We met again at one or two other occasions at mutual friends’ gatherings with brief hellos and finally met again about two months ago at another friend’s birthday. Then he randomly asked me out to catch up over coffee about a week ago.

I was curious, because I wondered what we had to catch up on since we really had absolutely nothing to catch up on; I had not even talked to him for an extended period of time. Also thought there was some kind of flirty undertone his part, so my curiosity was piqued. By the way, I find the TOA (Term of Affection) “Sweetie” terribly revolting. Stomach wants to lurch out of its designated biological address.

So after 10 minutes after the arranged time he returns my 2 missed calls and says
“You’re there already? Oh, I’m running a lil’ late, be there in 5 minutes.”

So I wait.
And wait.
And wait for 20 minutes.

There were 5 things unacceptable to me.

1. No reason was given for being late.
(I’m not unreasonable, if it was a dire emergency – explain and I will try to understand.)

2.No apology was given for being late.
(I’m not unreasonable, if 1. was a half-baked reason, apologize or put up a show to indicate how contrite you are groveling not necessary though it might help)

3.Call was made after the arranged time.
(I’m not unreasonable, let me know before hand so I won’t be hanging around looking stupid and wasting my time, let me know before hand)

4.Call was made in return only after I called twice after the arranged time.
(I’m not unreasonable, but don’t you think if someone is going to be late, the onus is on the late-comer to let you know?)

5.He sucked at math. 20 is not equal to 5.
(Look, I’m really not that unreasonable, its okay if you do the above 4, I’m not going to get mad if you can’t count =) So okay, maybe 4 things that were unacceptable.) The common decent courtesy line was already violated.

So at the 30 minute mark, let him know I was tired of waiting and was out. Then I left. Well, he got there as soon as I decided to leave. But I’m glad I left anyway.Later he texted that he was sorry, that he just wanted to let me know that he didn’t ditch me, but he was “caught up with getting a cab” and thus was 30 minutes late. (Please translate, funny because I got the strange feeling he got on the cab only after I called him). Oh yeah, and please forgive me hun, we’ll do it better next time.

Okay, first things first issue was not the fact that there was a possibility that he would blow me off – that should not have been a possibility save a good reason. Then I would be pissed. Well, if he did, he should probably burn in hell and get raped by a horse. ;)

So the issue that bothered me was the lack of consideration as demonstrated by the above 4/5 things. But no, I’m not pissed. I was mildly annoyed because it was a waste of time. Though it was not exacerbated because I was already in town and just finished a late meeting with project mates in school ten minutes away. Annoyance does go away fast. After that it was simply really an automatic analysis that one of my best friends say I’m fond of doing.

Is this guy interested in me? No, if he were he would considerate and early. If he was, he would have been a lot more considerate and called with good reason. Drill down : Extreme case scenario, even if he were really interested and did not demonstrate some semblance of decent courtesy much less gentlemanly behavior, would it be good to waste time on a person, considering this characteristics will probably show up time and again. Two Cases: (1) Someone I would go out with : Big fat no. Okay, eliminated. (2) As a friend: Well, not if I have to meet up with him (2a) individually, because my time will be wasted. (2b) in a group: Yeah maybe, because my time won’t be wasted since there would be other people on time.

Do I dislike/abhor him? Nope, nothing personal but yeah would still talk to him if its within my comfort zone. But no, will not go out of my way to associate with him because it would cost time and effort which could be invested in other meaningful relationships with old friends, new friends and the ones that are worth the time with a reasonable rate of return; just a judgment call following a simple cross benefit analysis there everyone should habitually do =)

Hello from Saigon

2007-04-16T21:01:00.000+08:00

I'm surviving, but I'm less than cheery. Well, lets just say things got off the wrong foot, when I overpacked and was forced to unload much of my luggage at the airport. In the midst, my Dad took out my 3 pairs of shoes, and I'm left only with one heeled pair that could probably break apart any second.

The Guesthouse is terribly basic but clean with a rock hard bed. Its not that easy to make friends and that sucks. Well, the lady that runs the guesthouse is really nice, that counts for something, but the fucking cabbie ripped me off today charging me more than double what it would take to get to work. Hoebag.

India was a lot tougher to survive in, but somehow this seems to get on my nerves. The colleagues are warm and friendly ( on first impression today) much nicer than my colleagues in India who basically ignored me at first, unless they wanted something like help with translation. They're really helpful and nice, and patient too. Though admittedly, it got slightly better afterward. Work is tough, well like any learning curve is. Well, I'm not too concerned about the content, but am more keen to conditioning myself to learn quickly and fast. You know all the tourists on guest websites that say the Vietnamese touts are pushy, I believe they'll seriously die in India. But I had friends and a social circle there, the lack of one here I feel is getting to me.

The language barrier is a bummer. I haven't taken pictures and somehow I hardly feel like whipping out the camera. I'm getting used to eating meals by myself, the people on the streets greeting me with a "Konichiwa", like just now during dinner by myself I was eating alone, and the bunch of guys nearby was staring at me, I totally didn't want to make eye contact.

Man... I don't know, maybe it will get better this weekend. I finally found a mall - probably the only mall in Ho Chi Minh. There's a Mango around so says their website, no top shop. But this mall Diamond Mall, has the usual labels that are found at Paragon.

Trying to keep positive,

Me signing out.

Going Vietnamese

2007-02-01T14:09:00.000+08:00

Was going to write about Greed & Fear Part II – which was pretty much related to this. Since, its pretty much confirmed that I will be heading to Ho Chi Minh City to do my internship come mid April – barring visa issues, I’ve decided to go with a positive happy-happy spin on things instead. Flee from me, O’ abhorred vermin of Negativity! Or I’ll get the Vietnamese Mafia to kick yo’ stinkin’ ass outta my sight.

Have had some bubbling reservations – maybe I should have applied for a banking internship instead. It ain’t going to be like India – where I already knew there were going to be 20-30 interns from part of the world living and working with me. For me a large motivator, is the opportunity to go out and meet people like me. Young and very international.The dynamics are awesome.

No pre-set social options. Well, then I guess I had better get out there to make some friends. So if anyone knows a couple of folks in HCMC or some where in the vicinity and who could/would kick back and appreciate some rumbling or howling laughs with a relatively funny, skinny, Singaporean Chinese chick , I’d certainly appreciate it. Tell them the cuppa's on me.

That said, be also up one degree of fabulousness to find some fellow travelers that are up for weekend escapade or two.

Greed & Fear - Part 1

2007-01-30T18:56:00.000+08:00

Very potent motivators. No, no – I’m sure as hell not going to launch into an entire textbook’s worth of psychological behavior . Me no expert. The only part I could identify with in terms of this entire body of study is psycho ;) In two days flat I’ve run through the entire depressing gamut of greed and fear two times over. Wanna sit down hear?

Cycle One

The first is pretty darn straight forward. We all know the Singaporean Stock market has gone a lil’stark, raving, mad the couple weeks. Well, I’m generally for safe investing – I’m not one of those risk-embracing-come-to-mama boys in Uni that contra-trades an entire years tuition income on a single transaction. Nor am I one of those that would buy a fast, low car with my winnings- um I mean returns.

So far so good. My safe type of investing has generated about a 30% return on average. Being around fast macho talking boys, that spout charting techniques by the milli-second does admittedly make you feel like - #1, a geriatric-type – too safe, too dull a Singaporean as they come. #2 Bloody Envious, #3 Impatient and Restless. I have to waiting over 3 months to actually see any kind of significant returns. So get this, I decide to trade on impulse. Don’t do my homework and decide to buy a stock, based on the flimsy ‘tip’ if you might want to call it - a day after the STI hits an all time record high of about 3150 points.

Well, I just wanted a quick buck. It would be thoroughly awesome to indulge in a new pair of skinny jeans or a pretty dress – or simply contribute to my tour-the-world fund. Plus, I figured that I could probably beat the granny investors, till I realized to my utmost chagrin that I was one myself. You know the kind the institutional investors whack to a juicy red-purple pulp.

Yeah – so I got whacked. It nose dived 5 cents down these two days. I could pull a pseudo Warren Buffet and go, “Oh no, this company is severely undervalued” and hold it till it rise again (if it EVER does rise) and claim tremendous skill and foresight in stock picking then. So I sold the piece-of-sh*t-lots of shares off, upon reading 2 days after I bought it that last year that people in this firm were hauled up for accounting irregularities. Also found out, that this was on of the market anomalies. The unexplained huge rise in stock price year wasn’t fueled by robust fundamentals. So that leaves irrational exuberance by the speculators and those that think they are.

So in great, trembling fear. I sold Auston off today.

In all repentance, I confess I’m nothing but a low level gambler.

Starbucks Adventures and Updates

2007-01-27T17:28:00.000+08:00

Update Note:

Finally! I get some respite. Its mostly permanent this time. I’ve quit teaching 2 of my tuition students. The last 4 weeks, I must admit that I’ve been humbled. Even with a full self-imposed measure of time management, I wasn’t able to balance work on the side and academia. Bit off more than I could chew this time. Reached a point where I was stretched so thin – that even the maintenance of workload capacity boiled down to a zero-sum game of trade-offs. Well inadvertently, yours truly has been forced to prioritize. Extra kaching to blow on delicious Nine-West heels or nice meals at Dempsey or Rochester Park has been relegated. Alright, I exaggerate – but yes the money was absolutely necessary for just covering my monthly expenses since I refuse to take allowance money from my parents (bad financial situation).

I’m crossing my fingers and hoping that the money I earn from baby sitting and my sole remaining literature student + some gains on the stock market are enough to tide me through the rest of the term. Now at least I can focus on my studies a little bit more – the neglected GPA has been whining like a bitch again. Well, it makes it worse that I know with overwhelming certainty (and guilt) that it is thoroughly true. To my credit, major partying or slacking, certainly wasn’t in my vocabulary the past 6 months.

Now I have time to write – someone say whoopee.

Starbucks Adventures

Here I am at Starbucks, conducting an observational study of its patrons (for my Consumer Behavior Class). What’s been said is true – its difficult to pin-down precisely one specific characteristic that all of them have in common. Various strains of humanity. Below is a parody of stereotypes combined with my robust and ever overactive imagination. Well – I’m basically taking the piss outta things, don’t get too worked up you so happen to identify with the various people (and a bit of caricature) below ;) I repeat – taking the piss outta things.

New Money- Euro couple

Currently sharing my table, is a couple I could probably narrow down to eastern European or Russian. The lady sports a bowl-shaped haircut ( Similar to mine when I was 7, when my ma put a bowl over my head – make shift hair cutting template.) only that it suffered the miserable fate of being bathe in peroxide. Hubby on the other hand is decked out in a birds-of-paradise type of loud graphic shirt. Me thinks they think that they’re blowing their pension money on visiting a small piece of China. Either that or maybe one of them discovered a natural gas source in their backyard.

The MBAs
Across the other side of Starbucks, we’ve got the learned and oh-so-sophisticated MBAs. Ask me, how did I know that they were of that aspirational caliber. Well, cos the Indian one was wearing an Insead pullover! The other 3 comprised of 3 other Caucasian men. One obese and otherwise unnoticeable. The other wallpaper material as well. And the third, more carpet than wallpaper. He was probably your high school nerd who really made something out of his existence then, than the sorry losers who made him cry. Hah! Take that! I now earn monthly what you would earn for the rest of the next decade. That said, he wears the similar pair of hornrims, the same charisma and poise that made Igor seem charming and really dense hairy forearms. So it obviously didn’t come as a surprise, that an emergent tuft of it was billowing out from the collar of his chic AX shirt. Okay, it suddenly occurred to me that he also would seem the type to have a blow-up doll in his closet. Or maybe he had some weird kind of fetish or mission for vendetta that would in all eventually turn him into a serial ripper in Lil’ Ol’ Jackie’s league.

Bah, anyway – I’m pretty certain that they were all trying to out-boast each other.

Beer Belly Blue –collar Bloke ( Tourist)

Could have used a make-over in terms of dress-sense sense. His redeeming grace? His almost cute boyish face – that made him a pinch of eye-candy from neck-up. Seems like the only exercise he does – was flex his fingers when shoving chips into his mouth. Seems like an okay fella though. Then he has to go, push his hands up his shirt to scratch his back. Its almost as taboo as scratching your armpit in public. A transgression only orang utans can get away with.

Expat Kid and maybe-girlfriend

Floppy Blond hair and some facial hair about 17 probably from UWC. ( Woot I’m so glad you have enough testosterone to grow that patch ). Well, anyway he’s here with the chick he’s supposed to have a thing going on with. They having a talk. When I say talk, I mean taaaaaaaaalk. Sense the seriousness in that? The where-is-this-going talk. I can’t hear from where I’m sitting, but moi is your local lip-reading expert.

Girl: ( Twirls hair, chews gum with mouth really wide open )… Well, we need to talk. So- I mean like, do you like – like me or not?

FBH boy: Uh… yeah..um.duh. ( keeps quiet – major awkward silence)

Girl: ( Sulks) So how come you never call me anymore…

FBH Boy: ( Squirms) Uhh….I don’t know … I’m busy I guess.

Girl: So are we like together?

FBH Boy: Uhhh. (Okay never mind, I’ll do the translation for him: We’re pretty much together if the hottie in my calculus class says she ain’t into me.)

Aighties. I had a lag between people strolling in and out Starbucks – I was doing my observations! Killed Old Father Time, by writing some.

I’ll Take a Little Less.

2006-12-03T22:04:00.000+08:00

I was idealistic, naïve and had a lot more goodness and warmth in my heart then .I had previously written about how selfish and ugly the adult world is – when I saw how first hand, how some of my older acquaintances constantly, played musical beds with their friend’s exes, how cheating is rampant and making use of others when clearly at their expense. I simply couldn’t reconcile how humans could do that to one another, much less friends.

Over a waffle brunch at Dempsey, some girlfriends and I talked about it. The source they said was due to the certain seduction of forbidden fruit. I saw it as a mere manifestation of an aging disorder, as the needs of Me, Myself and I slow became supreme reason for mankind’s existence. It wasn’t a specific malice, but more of a hardened callousness for an all-consuming drive to fulfill self-needs

In a slightly warped but valid perspective, I felt the stirrings of how it could very easily happen. Especially when one hurts emotionally and is hell-bent on compounding the affliction, which pretty much results in a certain kind of bitterness. Eventually, it translates into a misdirected anger. I don’t care, I’m just going to take, take, take – because people have taken things at my expense. If I’m hurting, why should I put others in consideration when no one has even deigned to do the same for me? So there we have it, I felt precisely like that in the last few months. I even declared – for every time I got my heart broken, I’ll break 3 hearts. In my short young life, my heart has been in the trauma room about twice. Which pretty much leaves a to-do-list to shatter 6 hearts.

So young, so angry – a wise old sage would say.

Well, until a week or so ago when I – (said slightly sardonically) saw the light.

It goes like this – the mother of the kids I teach, basically does not treat their domestic helpers well. Unfortunately, I witnessed an incident which really would have evoked a outrage when I was younger, but which showed up in a kind of inner muted indignance/ sympathy. She was annoyed and one of them, and basically ordered the maid open up the letters – and in show of vindictiveness, dropped the pile of letters deliberately, on the floor with an obvious intent to slight her. It was shameful – nothing short of that. I pretended I didn’t see it continuing to teach. At the end of the lesson, I caught the maid’s eye – in that moment, so much was transmitted in the visual contact. I looked away almost cringing ( not to my credit – reluctant to get involved in any kind of drama), but she saw it in my eyes – was it pity? Was it indignance? I don’t know.

Tearing up, she said “Its hard being a maid, you know. Madam is always right, you are always wrong. ”
In that same moment, I felt ashamed for wanting to scoot out as fast as I could. Something deep down, which has been dormant for a long time now – the open ever-willing to help humanitarian spirit made a brief, almost involuntary appearance.

“She’s like that. (I bore the shame of both myself and the mother at that moment) Be strong.”
“Thank you, for your words.” She said.

The next lesson, again – the reluctance to be involved in any drama that could jeopardize my rice bowl, surfaced again. This time, I shoved it away – looked her in the eye and asked her “Are you okay?”

Later on, she slipped me a post it saying “Thank you for your kindness, it makes me happy. May God Bless you all the time”.

It was so gratifying; I haven’t felt like a nice person in so long. All I did was say less than ten words to her (qualifying that it was contaminated my own selfish reluctance) and it made her feel better.

If so little can be done, to make someone feel slightly better – why the HELL am I going out consciously to hurt others?

Well, growing older and more cynical – I’ve pretty much burnt my cape that I donned while being the crusader of the victims of injustice when I was younger. I’m not saying I’ve miraculously, decided to make another one, but you can be sure about me making a concerted effort to be a little less selfish.

I’ll take a lil’ less.

Hello again.

2006-12-01T19:49:00.000+08:00

I have sat myself down and basically ordered my fingers to type something - so as to revive my till-now defunct blog.

Updates heart-break wise:

Obviously the long distance didn't work out. Made the silly decision to go on a holiday with the former significant other, the long-awaited (prior to break-up) scheduled reunion. Ended with more tears. Threw myself into the to-do-lists, and really worked the productivity level. The overwhelming rush of the last one month was my own band-aid for emotional wound. Now that it is slowing down, memories return afloat, much as I've tried to force them into fading by deleting photos and by deliberately not taking a camera along. Bottomline, I still miss him like I sometimes miss the one before him as well. But hey that's life, I'm a strong girl. I should be a brave one too, I'm not going to avoid him online anymore. 'Nuff said, I won't venture back to this topic anymore. Just thought some closure was in order, in light of the previous post.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Other Updates:

Uni-wise

Was a pretty good term productivity wise - had my fair share of group mates from hell but was otherwise successful. Only one more paper to go.

Random Funny Incident:

A random number messaged me " Happy Thanksgiving!"

I messaged back " Great, time to stuff yourself with turkey."

Random number messaged back " When are you going to sleep with me again? "

I scratched my head, wondering if a phantom rapist had made an unnoticed appearance in my life of late. I messaged back " Not anytime soon, who is this by the way?"

Random number messaged back " The guy from last week la! We made love."

Hmmmm. I messaged back. " Well, that's not possible, I'm a guy and I'm seriously not gay."

No reply. Gee, I thought there was room for fun if the random number person replied.

Not-so-funny Incident

My bunch of gay groupmates from one of my finance classes played a somewhat malicious prank on me, that I didn't find quite so amusing. Stark contrast they hysterical hyena laughter when they saw me. I felt - BULLIED. I really quite liked them till they sprung this on me.

I mean after all, these were the same people that pointed out that I had cellulite, that I should lose weight because 50kg was not the optimum of 47 kg for my height of 1.65m - all for my own good. They also kindly educated me on the different alternative - classifications of gender - transverstite, transgender etc etc.

Today/Yesterday was the deadline for the final project. Got scared shitless because I hadn't heard anything from the other person (not-gay-boy) who was responsible for compiling and doing the rest of it up.So I asked them kindly for that guy's number got mostly dismissive non-replies. Moi sent out a reminder email to burn the stuff on the CD, I got a reply from one of the gay boys next morn, that I was going to do it. I didn't know what the F*** was going on and I rung them in panic, only to have them laughing. This was one project I felt impotent in, joining an already established group is dificult, because I felt unwittingly left out of discussions and decisions. But how was I, to assert opinions without sounding redundant/irrelevant or self-important then I thought, what the hell anyway. So then obviously a sitting duck.

It wasn’t a very nice thing to do, period.

Ciao now,

I'm out

Big fat joke ... I feel him slipping away now.

2006-08-20T23:51:00.000+08:00

After his 2 weeks in Copenhagen,the hairline cracks in our 'relationship' have become more apparent. For how long more I can hold out, I can no longer say. I felt a selfish twinge, when he was told me he was having a good time. I feel like a hometown girl left behind, when her childhood sweetheart goes to seek his fortune in a big, slick city - never to return.

The slow,excruciating drift.Our conversation peppered with my 'You must have enjoyed yourself'forcing a smile across the telephone lines without trying to appear cold. He apologized for not being able to contact me a lot during the fortnight, because he didn't have a lot time to himself. I guess, even if I were busy - I would have made time for him. Miraculously, I still managed to squeeze out an 'It's okay, I understand.' I pause again, taking a deeper breath and go ' Anyway, I've been really busy too - so it doesn't matter.' Pulling one out of the hat too often. Give me a medal for keeping the ongoing small talk good.

Every time he calls, or I talk to him on MSN - he usually has to go bathe/eat/friends coming over ecetera. Before that discontent manifests itself in an overt flare of temper, I shut myself up good. I called him today

Sooner or later, the predictable plot will unfold.' Look, I don't think this is working out.'Boo-hoo.

Spare me please.

Maybe the a fortnight ago, before he left - I said that I simply blew things out of proportion, and so please forgive me. Was before the real test.Futility,futilty. Why did I even think we could beat the odds? When did Rationale decide to divorce moi? I guess, when I started having an affair with Illusion. To think this morning, I was looking up websites to see if I could do a short term stint in Netherlands, so I could be with him. I'm not sure if he even feels the same way to wholly support that.

MY BABY GOT HIS LEAVE APPROVED.

2006-07-19T13:49:00.000+08:00

I'm happy,happy,happy! ! !

This also means I can see him October! Hope he gets a flight!

Lalalalala

It's Over.Over.Over.

2006-07-16T15:06:00.000+08:00

About time the cycle ends you guys say. Though not without a certain bitterness and anger.

Last 3 years of torment ends in this email. I deserve better than this, someone who'd love and treasure and respect me. I sent it off two nights ago knowing that I need to end this.

I have other people I care about so much. Its about time I give it a chance, someone to make me happy.

Here it is now:

( For what I am worth to you, finish reading this even though this going to to be uncomfortably unpleasant. If its the second last thing you do for me, the last being the second last line of this email, do it please.)

XXXX,

I want to hurt you as much as you hurt me. 45 minutes past – tick-tock. God, there's so much hurt, anger, resentment, regret and bitterness I have for you that I sometimes I hope one day you would twist in a pain greater than the torment you have caused me.

What sparked this off? You were supposed to call at ten thirty . I was waiting for your call. Its so familiar, its de ja vu all over again. I remember clearly one night you said that you would meet me after you were done with your function, I was waiting. And I waited. Then I gave in and texted you – you were high with your gay chums so you couldn't make it.Oh the disappointment then. And again and again and again.

But I guess I should not be expecting much from you given your track record when it comes to me. I, however, always believed I was something special for you despite your contrary treatment of me.

Coming and going throughout the years. Sleeping with you on-and-off. Even when you slept with someone else. It really broke me btw. Remember I said that I'd end things when you begun to sleep with someone else? Oh believe me I ate my words. Sleeping with other men was comforting – as an equalizer. Seeing you at Attica, did me IN!

You never comprehended the magnitude of my feelings for you. And you probably never will. I downplay all the aggression stemming from your constant rejections. I think I'm going to lay it all on the line now. Then there will be no turning back for me, then you can finally remove yourself from my life, and I can't come back crawling in humiliation begging you to come back in my life again.

Then the cycle finally ends.

So many times I have said, despite it all – I would go through it all over again. I think at the present peak of my pain. I say I think I won't. So I guess I'm going bring it on now.

I always harbored the hope that one day you would see me as an equal and fall in love with me, as I did with you. I hope I can say what I have now – I'm no longer in love, but just nursing a very unhealthy addiction to you. In fantastically ironic way, began to mould myself in what I thought you found attractive. You were centered in my life, no matter how much I would try to deny it from my own self. It had its benefits; I strived to make myself more confident, smarter and even bitchier. You brought your boons; through they're highly disproportionate to the banes.

Disgusting how I convinced myself that you loved me. That maybe we were meant to be. How things felt 'right'. Complete fucking mental bullshit. I really pity myself and still do.

We can never be friends. I feel nothing but pure pity for waste of what could have been a wonderful friendship.

I shouldn't have texted you in India .

After we met the last time, I wanted to see you again or just talk to you. I asked you to call me that night, because it was important to me. You said you would. You messaged at 1 am in the morning and asked if I was awake. For any person that would care decently about another, it's a strange, strange reaction. Even if you were busy, if you knew it was something important that I wanted to talk about – wouldn't you have at least messaged to say that could I call back another time. Then I realize that I'm an afterthought. Oh, boo on me. I was hurt. So I didn't reply. I figured I had another one and a half weeks more, before I left for India anyway. No goodbye call or text from you. Out of sight, out of mind. Never had I been so desperate to escape what I was familiar with.

(Oh, btw, I just received your text 'Sorry for the delayed reply, maybe tomorrow '. I guess it makes it all better now. Dispensable (lil' ol' me), its okay if I keep her waiting. How easily you can make me feel I was over reacting, pretty usual. Many times, I legitimately have no 'right' to demand anything from you. But both of us know that our mess has transcended the initial boundaries drawn at the beginning. Remember, the 'I make a bad boyfriend' forewarning at Bar Opium. Also remember MSN chat when I got it from you that you slept with someone else. 'I don't know why I feel the need to apologize when I don't have to, so don't feel bad. I'm upset that I made you upset '. Jesus Christ, I can still almost imagine the long-suffering sigh you would have let out, had you done this in person. )

So in India, it was better. Though I was still crying intermittently and smoking daily because I still woke up in pain. I thought about you less as things got busier. I always remember your birthday, but do you even know mine? I always want to wish you, but I guess it feels better that I don't because you don't even know mine.I deliberately kept my Indian number from you because I knew it would do me no good then I had to spoil it all by messaging you again. I still block and unblock you from MSN regularly because of the constant struggle that you're bad for me and want/need/love/something to that effect you so much. Anyway,you called back. Very surprising since you 'don't see the need' to call me. But thing was you didn't know if it was me, or if it was your cousin. If you knew for sure it was me, I think you would probably have texted back a 3 pager. I think I was desperate for a reason to just be in touch with you again because I missed you terribly. The perfect excuse came along when the shit hit the fan at work and because I was feeling so down, I did again. Telling myself that you were probably the only one that could know how I feel and give me the moral encourage that I dearly needed. Well to be fair, granted that is certainly something I can say Thank You for. Though it was more like in your character to listen to people's problems, rather than being there especially for me.

So it started again. Text messages/chats. And you said you didn't contact me because you didn't have my new number and didn't know if I still checked my email. Flimsy, buddy. Don't have to give excuses if you didn't feel like it. I guess, if you were out rightly and harshly honest with me, its possible that I would have left you alone. In other cases, forget the thin 'I've been really busy, have got another wedding this weekend' just tell me that I rank below those familial duties. Going back, If you really wished to contact me, you could have at least typed a one liner email to my address. An attempt. There still was Friendster to by the way, if you were really intent on wanting to contact me. So we can come to the grand conclusion that it was half-hearted, darling. Like 99.5% of the time, when I come into the picture.

It's a good thing that you did it again (the unreliability thing with me); I tend to forget how much grief it causes me. Good reminder. I obviously won't be seeing you again tomorrow and ever. Normally at this point, I'd have dissolved in pathetic sorrow being reminded that you'll never love me back, so I'll just take the bits and pieces of your life you offer me, being reminded of all our tender memories. But I can't. I'm being unfair,with this low-blow goodbye. But fuck this; I'm tired of repression. I deliberately keep my turbulent emotions in check with you, because I didn't want to lay a guilt trip on you, and you would leave me cos you feel bad. We can launch into an argument about how 'you already told me from the start that you didn't want anything serious', but you'll have difficulty convincing yourself otherwise. That's assuming that you care. If you don't, of course you won't have any guilt.

Loose canon. I'm lashing out at you from any memory of hurt that comes to mind. I'm tired and I'm sapped. By the way, I always wished stop calling me babe/s. It's fucking annoying and cloying. I'm not one of your floozies or at least I would like to think so.

I'm guessing if you've made it to here, you'll probably be riled up.

If you really missed me, as so many times you've claimed. I think that you would have at least taken time or made an attempt to meet up with me. Yes, you've been jet-setting. As usual. How long does a phone-call take? You tell me you miss me and then you hardly bother to call me. Some kind of inconsistency going on. I feel jerked around. I think there were so many times, when I would have called you. Now I restrain myself so hard, because the disappointment that follows because you don't reciprocate is crushing. False sense of self-preservation.

I'm probably not doing 'us' justice in this tirade. But I don't need painful reminders of the beautiful moments that was.

I'm tired. What I'm trying to do here is forcibly end/sever the indescribable complication/tumor/divine entanglement. I cannot keep loving you. I try too hard with you, trying to make you fall in love with me. Too many fantasies of marrying you having your kids no more. And I probably really don't want to hurt or make you twist in gut-wrenching pain that I mentioned earlier. Despite, many self-denials. The bottom line remains, that if you really loved me, you would have done a lot more than you have. Truth is glaringly obvious, despite sweet denials and comforting half-truths. In a way, I know you care deeply but its not the same.

You can see I've run the entire gamut of emotions, though I've totally downplayed the sentimental for necessary reasons. The tone from what I started off and how I'm ending is very different.

Please don't respond to this at ALL. Don't contact me anymore after this. No text messages. Not even how are you doing. Delete my number. Block me from MSN. If you see me on the streets, don't say hi. See what happened in attica?

Most importantly, if I ever contact you again, ignore me even if I beg you then. Please. I'm begging you now.

This really has to end.

In any case, this is mutually exclusive from what I feel for the Dutch boy. He still means a lot to me. The above, is me cleaning out the closet - something long overdue. I don't know if things would work out with him, but I'm trying - I really am, I don't quite want to lose him.

Back home, bitches ;)

2006-06-18T23:26:00.000+08:00

Shout out to all. Time to meet and catchup.

Flight was alright. 12 hour flight from Delhi to Singapore. Usually only takes five and a half hours, but due to a crazy transit in Bangkok, I found myself up at 3 am Indian time getting a foot,head and neck massage at the BKK international airport.

Oh, I got sorta picked up by this Indian boy unwittingly. He was probably harmless. He struck up a conversation with the hassled me, the bitches at the baggage counter were giving me shit for exceeding baggage allowance. I had to be extra nice, and when that didn't work - impatience and frustration crept into my voice and I nearly lost it and climbed over the counter and bashed the poor chick up and slapped her against the wall.

Almost.

Nah, didn't happen. That was pretty much an Ally McBeal moment. After giving me a bit of shit, and because the system was so slow here - and they had to close the counter. She let me through after desperately asserting her power by giving me a lecture with a wagging finger ' Next time don't pack so much'. If I were a hunting dog, I'll bite her damn wriggly finger off. I just nodded 'gratefully' and restrained myself from kicking her in her face :|

Going back to the boy, whom I hardly noticed because he looked posuerish and 14. Very jail bait type. I don't know - little boys, really don't do it for me. So after some small talk about his university and the general questioning, ( which I already have a set of FAQ laid out for ) he said, lets exchange numbers. I ignored it, and he was pretty insistent. It wasn't like he was a dirty old man or anything. And I felt a little bad to say 'No.', it was like taking candy away from a kid. He's parting shot ' Call me when you reach Singapore.'First things first, you wanted my number YOU call, baby I ain't gonna do the work. Of course, he did and I didn't. And of course I didn't pick up. For the record, I wasn't the least bit interested. My point is, someone has gotta teach the boy, that it ain't the lady's job to call.

One piece of my baggage got sent off to Narita Airport, Japan. %&#%@^)@$&. My laptop charger was in there, so I have to wait to get it back again tomorrow.

Alright, I'm out. Let's meet up soon, my dear, dear friends.

BTW, Adebelle - you never left your new mobile number, your old one doesn't work. Miss you!

Old habits die hard.

2006-06-16T14:47:00.000+08:00

Three nights ago, I woke up in the middle of night in tears. Still in India, with my South Korean roomie sleeping soundly in the bed next to mine. Post- several meaningless dalliances with several others 3 years on and then with the most recent blessing of my darling, Dutch man. Who roused emotional feelings long buried under vicious scars. It shouldn’t be happening now, not anymore.

This was one of the reasons why I had to get out of Singapore. The 3 years of bliss and torment. Yes, 70% torment I was willing to take for a disproportioned amount of bliss. Still, I took a deep breath, struggling with the reorientation, to reality. The pain so acute, the memory so vivid. This was more than two years on. Remembering how he disappointed me – it was just one of the many numerous times. Why this occasion was of particular recall, I don’t know.

Waiting in the club for his text message, fervently checking my phone – balancing discretion with bubbling excitement tinged with anxiety. He said that he was in town; he had a function but would join me later on. He said he would be done by the hour of eleven or twelve. Patiently I waited till about twelve thirty. No call, no text. I could feel the block of effervescence dissolve into a rising panic. I said, no, I wouldn’t call him – I mean he should have the decency to call me if he wasn’t going to come. And he said he would. I mean he wouldn’t go so far as to blow me off, no? After all, it was just a week or two ago when I was tenderly snuggling in his arms.

12.30 am .I gave in. I texted him.

After my numerous phone checks which increased with exponential frequency, he finally replied saying he didn’t think he could make it, under the dose of psychotropic substances at some other party. I couldn’t believe it. So, this was how it was like when the sky decided one day to fall and swoop down on me. He blew me off again. I so desperately struggled to maintain composure. Smiling to my friend who was with me, I said that he couldn’t make it. If she had listened carefully or if the blasting music had been turned off – she would have heard the catch in my voice. I was dying inside.

There was something about the confrontation of denial and the repeated attempts to wiggle out of the uncomfortable situation. If I didn’t have that – the pain would have either killed me or enlightened me had I decided to take the constructive route.

I chose denial then. It seems I still keep choosing it now. Old habits die hard.

But I don’t want to go back to the pit of old viperpit memories.

I wish my Dutchie was here with me, his calm soothes me. His steady reliability, a glad contrast and warm comfort. I want to see him again. I want him here to chase those, bad, bad memories away like he did when he was with me in India. It had been a long time, since I had some unpreconditioned happiness.

I think need him. But he’s so far away.

Home coming ...

2006-05-24T22:55:00.000+08:00

I'll be coming home in less than a month.My last day at work would be the 15 June. Unfortunately, I can't get a confirmed ticket outta here. I'll be back a couple weeks earlier than expected.

Well up to here, India's been a blast. Work-wise, I've achieved more than I could have hoped too. I'm pretty lucky that I wasn't like the other international analysts and exploited for mostly for their language capabilities. I'm pretty nervous, I'll be sorta holding the fort for a conference call Monday with the client for my relevant part. I'm proud of myself this way.

Friends-wise, I've made a couple of good friends. Sad to say most have left with the trasience of most things here. Its time for me to go.

I'm looking forward to coming back home.

With the boy - somehow, reality is already settling in. I can almost feel in in slow-motion, drifting has already kinda started I guess. Nothing unexpected - I've been through this before. I think India was a jumpstart in my professional/international life. If all goes well, I'll be applying for an exchange somewhere in Europe next year. I can see it happening already - my life isn't going to slow down from this point in time.

Too much to achieve - but this I must say, nothing has been done without God's divine strength.

I miss you guys back home ...

With love, from Goa couple weeks back ...

See you amigoes soon.

That's him

2006-05-07T15:08:00.000+08:00

I wonder if he would mind putting a picture of him up.

This one is pretty special to me, haven't felt like this in a long time. As per our discussion, we're not going to try a long distance - not at this point in our life where at both at different crossroads.

Its not final goodbye per se but mutual maturity just isn't there right now to sustain a relationship, that will come with age. So when we've both seen enough, in all our worldly wisdom and experience in life maybe we'll get a shot at us again. Then, maybe it'll be even better when we in the fresh,bloom of youth. We never know.

I'm sure gonna miss him - the last month or so showed me that I could love again, since you-guys-know-who.

( I don't think I'll ever stop loving Mr you-know-who, but that doesn't mean I'm spoilt for anyone else - I used to think so, this brief bitter-sweet experience has shown other wise)

That's my baby,

( When we were in Mumbai, he clocked the fastest lap for the day on the go-karting track, I'm proud of him - and I thoroughly relished the glee on his face when he came back reporting it to me)

for him a drop love, a small piece of my heart, many beautiful memories and a slight grimace of pain .( in the most realistic sense possible).

My own blonde Apollo ( at least for 3 more weeks) ...

2006-04-18T22:35:00.000+08:00

Head-shaven. Blonde buzz lending a slight golden hue - one that I muse quite girlishly like a divine aura.6'5 in height. I've never come faced to face with anyone that tall in my life. Not exactly out of place on an NBA match on court. Okay,I admit - The golden boy wouldn't quite blend in with the ebonies.

Classically handsome? Maybe not the broken nose which required multiple constructive surgeries when the delicate bone structure of a toddler at 3 was devastated by a car crash back then. Functionally repaired, aesthetically - the once smooth contour now marred by a conspicuous bump.

How about the eyes? An arresting blue of the iciest glacier? No, not quite, there was the allure of a tinge of green warming blue to a hint of acquamarine. God-like? Straining with barely contained raw power, according to Greek mythology? No, not really - a strapping young man growing out of a certain gangliness and into a certain litheness maybe.

He's a good man-boy. Well, still a little untainted by the ugliness and deceit like some of the men I've met have been.

I'm just sad that we've only 3 more weeks.

My summer romance. Of course I wish ... but let's not start, because we're too smart for it. Still my heart contracts and flutters a little.

I'm really gonna miss him.

My Dutch giant.

A short one ...

2006-03-23T23:59:00.000+08:00

Well, after putting in 12 hour work days for the past 2 days, I'm fuckin' tired. So far, its been for a worthy cause. At least I've done actual analysis for some income statements, not just the sourcing for data.

I've been looking forward to this.

To Ryan: Yes, I speak mandarin to the Taiwanese girl. More like broken mandarin. But I daresay, I've improved a bit. ( She never laughs at me!) I love her to bits, but she's leaving in mid-April. I'm really gonna miss her.

I've got a new male French room mate who arrived today. He seems alright.

Ok, I think I'll go now, I got work tmr. Will write something more substantial soon.

1770 Metres above sea level

2006-03-19T18:05:00.000+08:00

And I'm saying "Hello!" from the Himalayas. McLeod Ganj to be precise. That's twenty minutes away from Dharamsala. I'm waiting to catch my bus back to Delhi (in about 4 hours) and have decided to put this time to good use.

Up in the mountains

Its beautiful up here. I do want to upload photos, that's logistically pretty challenging.There are monks in the street. Technically, there isn't that much to see - your usual markets and nature trails, but the most enjoyable thing is actually being situated here. Its a little bit touristy, but still it remains largely untouched by any epidemical commercialization. Just Stacy ( the Taiwanese girl I've grown close to) and I. Think Swiss Alps in terms of view, minus luxury accomodation.

I'm also freezing my ass off here at night. Its however very pleasant, when the sun's rays warm up the mountainsides. If its of anyone's concern, I also busted my budget big time. And its about 2 weeks more before I get my pay again. I guess shopping at Nine West at the beginning of the month wasn't too good an idea, was it?

A little bit more on the Singaporean Guy

Speaking of the Singaporean guy I mentioned in the previous post, the last thing I would want would be to do an injustice to him. Don't get me wrong - as a person he's been nothing but graciously generous in helping out a fellow Singaporean. I thoroughly enjoyed his friendship very much. He's also been there when I needed whine time. I guess the mistake was taking it past the border of friendship, when he didn't quite feel the same way. I guess I have to rectify that mistake in order to salvage what's left of this friendship. So the last week or so, I've pretty much kept my distance, so my emotions can be kept in check. Believe me, I think you guys know this already. Aside from the you-know-who, I've recovered from romantic mishaps with surprising ease in a short period of time. Fortnight is the max. After that, I'm good with the whole platonic status again. The ones that aren't worth it, I cut out of my life. Gangrenous limbs, are hardly healthy to have.

I've been pretty good this week, I've updated a number of times.

One last point, I've got some mostly non-indian male aquaintances coming to me saying " Oh, I didn't know you preferred indian men " after stumbling across the last post. I think its almost a bit idiotic, when they keep repeatedly asking, "Why do you prefer them?" "I suppose you like dark features", and even " Do you like black men?". Sometimes I'm gritting my teeth and could barely control my fingers from typing fuck off.I hate having to repeat again and again that I character is of utmost importance and skin colour a distant second or third or fourth - I don't even rank it.One of them even equated black men with indian men.

I know making an exaggerated joke out of my slight bias for dark featured men, is bound to receive certain responses from ruffled egos. So I try to take it in my stride. However, continuous inane questions really get under my yellow skin. I was reading Chrissy's latest post, about being happy and not giving a shit about what people think. Inspired, I'm telling the rest of the annoying interrogations to go away.

Back from the loo...

2006-03-16T21:41:00.000+08:00

Ok, let me continue my updates.

Travel plans - Tomorrow, if all works out according to plan, I'll be on my way to Dharamsala, in the Himalayas. Well, if geographical names mean zilch to you, its where the Dalai Lama is.Thing is I've not booked the bus tickets ( It's a 12 hour drive from where I am ) nor the accomodation, I'm just heading to the interstate bus station after work tomorrow, crossing my fingers till they turn blue and passionately hoping that there will be tickets.

I actually went out with this Singaporean guy for a while. Things haven't worked out. Its funny right, your dear friend with the Thambi-fetish, wound up going out with a Chinese Singaporean guy for 2-3 weeks. Close friends would probably have a good idea what I would normally find attractive. I think in this case ( nothing to do with skin colour, I just lap it up sometimes, the ruckus I create when I mention that I find Indian guys particularly physically attractive ) differences in character are too wide to overcome. Plus, I don't think he's that into me. I realized after an upsetting Sunday afternoon. He's pulling the same shit on me, I think you guys know who.I'm out before I'm getting burnt.Anyway,before this erupts into a potentially explosive topic, lets move on to the safety ledge of political correctness as well as onto greener pastures.

Just a disclaimer:
Despite my ostensible thambi fetish, I'm open into the entire assortment of colours. I suppose I do value integrity,intelligence,humor above differential shades.

Done with the 'love-life' bit.

Miss you people.

Yes, I'm still alive.

2006-03-12T15:00:00.000+08:00

Hello there dear friends,

I know I haven't exactly been conscientious in updating my blog. But here's some updates in my life.

Re: The Room Mate

I'm talking about the Lithuanian one. I decided that her personality was a bit too strong for me to take 24/7. Nice to hang out with in certain instances - say parties. Outgoing sociable - but terribly in your face. She's pretty genuine, but continued exposure to radioactive materials, tends to be slightly less than healthy. So one day, tired of it all - an opportunity opened up. The company had decided to move another apartment of people into a new apartment ( Here's some background: The company has 3 apartments, one of them was shit, and they decided to shift the people into a better dwelling place, so I tagged along). She was quite conveniently travelling that weekend, so I saved myself tedious explanations.

This new place is quite a lot better. Its a hell lot cleaner. Plus I get an attached bathroom to the bedroom. Also, I figured when new people move to an apartment, household norms can be set.When I initially moved to the old dirty apartment, the rules were already set ( First commandment being: Thou shalt leave your dirty mess around, because there would be a cleaning lady cleaning up after you. Second commandment being: Even if the cleaning lady doesn't perform her function effectively,living in glorious filth is a cultivated second nature). So in the new flat, since my new room mate has not arrived yet; she would be here tonight, Korean girl, we can set the norms. The other two existing flatmates ( A Taiwanese girl who's become my good friend, and a very nice French lady, I like very much) seem to be pretty considerate. Rule is, take off footwear before entering my room.

And the toilet is clean. Bad thing is that I have no internet connection, which also means I have to find the time to head to the internet cafe and I haven't found a practical solution to uploading photographs yet.

Ok, I've updated you about the living conditions so far. Thing is I need to use the loo right now, and the one here is dirty - so I gotta head home to use the loo!

Ciao ladies and gentleman,
I will continue writing again later maybe or in a couple days

Much love.

P.s. I miss you guys- friends and family back home :)

Post-note dated 1 December 2006 : To be honest, my first room mate is one of the people I miss the most from the Indian Experience. Only just realized that... She's a great chick.

21 and grumpy.

2006-02-15T00:30:00.000+08:00

I can officially get married now. Sign up for my own mobile line. I can’t think of a spectacular introduction to my passage into adulthood.

But as expected, I wanted my 21st either high key or low key. Last year, I was adamant about spending my birthday overseas ( by myself ), well I did. India wasn’t planned at all. It just came up in December.

But thanks for all the phone calls, messages and comments. It didn’t go as low key as I wished it to be. My internship buddy, this Jap girl – got me a cake on last Friday night at her farewell party and surprised me with it. Sweet of her, but thoroughly unnecessary. I would have loved a quieter birthday. Then my roommate got me flowers and an earring box from Jaipur. Saturday night was spent at a Chinese restaurant with the Singapore Club Delhi. I sat at the same table with a lovely elderly couple who turned out to be the High Commissioner and his wife to Delhi. Also went to a fair which was interesting with this American lady whom I met on an internet forum. The rellies called me on my birthday. Then my Mom told me today, that they were talking about my going to clubs. I don’t know who to be annoyed at – at her for being prickled by it, or the rellies who unwittingly perpetuate gossip.

But I’m too tired to give a fuck. Going to clubs don’t make you bad, though I’d be the first one to admit that I’m not your model-church going kid like most of the family is, I never claimed to be. Of course, that hardly makes me benchmark wild child. I can hear some of my friends laughing at this.

I detest it tremendously when people make assumptions. But other than to let them know their assumptions suck and lack a substantial bit of accuracy, you can’t do much about it. Sometimes living your life with a certain degree of ambivalent callousness especially towards environmental hazards ( talking about people specifically) is necessary to preserve my sanity.

Oh, one of my whom I don’t know personally colleagues got killed in a car accident when a truck carrying bricks smashed into her car. Because I don’t know her, grief is beyond me. What gets to me is that, while I ride rickshaws ( a necessary mode of transport here, I only use the cars if the company cabs picks me up from work and sends me home you can’t hail cabs off roads here), I have developed a false sense of invincibility that has been shattered just like that. The drivers here on the road are absolutely reckless. But then you gradually got used to that after the initial trauma for cars cutting in and out without warning. You thought maybe it’s the way its like here and that most rickshaw drivers have mastered the art of dodging and bring you to your destination safely.

Well, it’s not true. I’m scared shitless right now. Also, on Sunday, there was a bomb scare in one of the malls. These couple days, my moods have taken a downswing. I’m enjoying India – but I’m also irritable, slightly depressed and would take a swing at one or two of flat mates given the chance. The left the dirty dishes again. What is this? Cockcroach Charity. They also broke my eggs, used my rice (without asking), and dumped my new shaker of salt in their soup by mistake but have not volunteered to buy a new one to replace it.

The roommate is the slight saving grace in my living conditions.

At work - the shit has hit the fan.

I think its one of those days, where I'm making nails scratching on blackboards are glorious melody.

You’re Going to be Jet-Li-ed.

2006-02-08T01:52:00.000+08:00

I’m into the beginning of my second week here in India. From the last blog update, I’ve gotten a new room mate from Lithuania. She’s alright, I’d even say pretty good from the start – but as I experience increasing exposure to people of different cultures, I’m all the more aware of the chasm between Asian Oriental and Western social cultures. Honestly, to hell with the whole racial harmony mantra of reveling in the differences in cultures – the whole uniqueness. Well, not to hell with it entirely, but it is easy to be simply blinded by the mutual fascination of exotic differences and forget that it can amount to a certain degree of friction.

Let me give you the low down. She’s the latest flat mate to live in the company flat. Unfortunately, we’re short of a key. So she’s going to this wedding and decides to leave early from work since she’s has nothing more on her plate, after we headed to the immigration office with another one of our flat mates from Turkey. Without even asking my plans, ( technically the key is mine ) she asks for it saying telling me that I can get the key from another ( German ) flat mate when I get back to the office, because it works out easier that way. Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely no qualms about lending her the key. It’s just the fact that she didn’t bother finding out if that would inconvenience me and simply assuming that it would be perfectly fine. In fact, I had plans made. The other room mate with us, simply turned to me and said dismissively “Oh, it would be no problem.” Thing is, that would be no problem, IF I didn’t make plans for the evening and went straight home. And how come, she didn’t volunteer the key.

I’m getting mad all over again. I really don’t want to make a racial issue here, but there is some truth there. It’s the whole submissive oriental stereotype shit going on here. I see it happening to the other Taiwanese intern when another German intern wanted to use her desk. True, they were on friendly terms – but I felt like it was as though he was wheedling her into doing so. I could sense her frustration; she was being pushed from desk to desk. So in this way, I’m happily lumped into the category, of submissive oriental kid. It doesn’t help the least that in the new environment, I tend to be lot more reticent than vocal, more likely to say yes than no, even if I don’t feel like it. Guess what? Fuck them all. No, I’m not going to be deliberately antagonistic, but no way if I’m going to let anyone step over me.

Oh, Mr British Pratty F.F. ( Fucking Fag, for the record – no, I have nothing against gay people, but this one really does have something up his posterior, and I hope its razor sharp ) – I’ve given up on him. He’s really not nice. I’ve tried to be polite and civil, but I think my limit has been reached. Some individuals aren’t worth sweating for. Miss Turkey and him are good friends. I’m largely ambivalent towards Miss Turkey, I used to think she was one of the nicer ones – but a lot of them honestly wouldn’t step out of their comfort zone unless offered a carrot in terms of chocolate, tobacco or alcohol. I’ve run out of chocolate and emptied my liter bottle of Absolut and I’ve decided that my 9 packs of Virginia Slims should not be thrown away in bad investments.

Going back to my roomie – I do it like you know it when I feel disrespected – ala Titanic, become a distant ice-berg. Well, didn’t take her long to figure it out – she asked if I was angry with her. I was tempted continue the North Pole Treatment, but I decided it wouldn’t solve anything. So I tried reasonably as I could to explain it to her – which I did well I think. She said that she was sorry that it upset me and came over and gave me a hug, and that she didn’t think of it at that point in time and try not to do it again. Its partly chilling and partly relieving – I would never do that, I would ask if it would inconvenience them. Is this an Asian thing? I don’t see many of my friends back home doing this to me, angmoh ones included. Good, that she was willing to talk and change, but somehow I see this issue coming up again soon. I’m not sure if I should invest in this friendship. Maybe if someone western could enlighten me on this.

Basically, today was a bad day. Many other bullshit things happened which I haven’t mentioned.

By the way, I’m not your S-O-K ( submissive oriental kid ), do it again to me, and I’ll fuckin’ Jet-Li your ass.

Post-note: Granted, it was a bad day. I've decided I like my roomie a lot. FF is getting tolerable, but I'm taking effort to make sure we hardly cross paths. I don't think I need so much grief.

Shout out from India.

2006-02-03T03:58:00.000+08:00

On The Plane

Chinese New Year was all the more poignant this year – with me scheduled to head to India on the second day. Even before I left home, I was already missing it. My parents, sister and room even. To me it was a little surprising, standing in the middle of my strewn room trying to identify that nervous anticipation that was peculiarly laced with sadness. Six months is a long time – well, at least the first that I’ve been away from home for so long a stretch.

I was brought shopping at Thomson Plaza to stock up on all the local food stuff that I couldn’t get there. This included 8 cans of Ayam Brand tuna, 3 cans of braised pork another 4 cans of luncheon meat and a whole array of other things. I even had a Samsonite hard suitcase to carry those in. The weigh-in 44.4kg. Unfortunately, as I checked in my baggage at the counter a couple hours ago, I was 14.4 kg overweight. For the accountants out there, that’s equivalent to 300 dollars of excess baggage levies.

The nice counter lady, allowed me 5 more kg on top of the 30 kg stipulated. My parents and cousins helped stuffed in as much as they could to my remaining suitcase. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to lug my luggage about when I got to India. Well, there are people made for logistics and I’m certainly not one of them.

I’m currently on the Bangkok-Delhi leg of the journey. 8.01 pm Singapore time to be precise. I appreciate all the farewells and well-wishes from my dear friends, especially those who made their way down to Changi.

Mom, Dad – I love you so much. Like you said, India will be time for me to grow and learn.

Charm – Jie, loves you too. When I’m not around, do take care of the 2 oldies at home.

Cousins- especially Jen & Kev appreciate you coming down. I probably won’t be seeing you till next Christmas again.

Cheryl and Reuben – Thank you too, be happy. Was great seeing you guys at the airport.

JC gang – My heart and soul. Thanks for the gift. Zero points for effort at trying to hide the present, but 110 points out of a hundred for the thought.

Right now, there’s this drunk Indian fucker, kneeing the back of my seat. I feel like kneeing him in the balls.

Adebelle, thanks for calling last night even though we haven’t met up.

Tom! Thanks for calling, try visit me! I’ll get you some bitches maybe.

Nat, Mui, ZR, Lisa thanks for the texts.

Upon Arrival

Landing at Indira Ghandi Airport was not something that sent me reeling. After all, I was preparing for something of a shock given the horror stories and gasps from some individuals I had chatted with. It passed a lot more mundanely. Other than some fucking American redneck bastard cutting my queue for the immigration check point and the subsequent young Indian male officer offering me his personal mobile number to call him. I had a mighty suspicion that I was being hit on.

Today, I had my first rickshaw ride. Here, I foresee it being a transport necessity not like that back home, where trishaw’s blaring RnB and Hip Hop are a rip off tourist attraction. Now that was some adventure. After going to a local mall to pick-up necessities, I had to take one back to the apartment the other alternative being taking a 40 minute walk home. Indians drivers have horrible driving etiquette. The staccato blare of the horns from the continually excessive and redundant use had me cringing in fear, as the drivers weaved in and out of traffic.

My flat ain't fancy. I'm being diplomatic here. But you know what, coming face to face with poverty just about every where, I feel lucky to be where I am. Flatmates are cool, I'll get a German girl for a room mate tomorrow morning. She was due to have arrived last night, but there were strikes at the airport.

All except one flatmate - he basically treats me as if I were invisible. Queer British guy, think Rupert Everette. Very Prattish. I think I would actually like to be friends with him,he's passionate about literature and you guys know how I love literature but his standoffishness puts me off.

Here are some pictures of the flat. My Singaporean friends, do not fear for me. Everything is fine, aside from being a little messy, noted the toilet is filthy. See the pictures and you'll understand. Funny the cleaning lady doesn't clean the toilet.

Will tell you more about my flatmates and experiences so far. I'm still taking it in.

Will write more soon. First good connection I've had since I've arrived, so everything is rushed. Wish I could convey the experience I've had so far, and all its nuances - but this abbreviated version will have to do for now.

Dear friends, comment - keep this in touch thing going ya. Miss you all heaps.

Edit: I decided to remove the photos because I don't quite want this to be indentified by any chance. Wanted to intially remove the inflammtory post after this - but then I feel as if I'm removing some authenticity from my blog.

Just so you know ...

2006-01-18T09:07:00.000+08:00

I know I haven't been particularly conscientious in up dating my blog despite the ongoing drama in my life. However, this I find is important enough to warrant a post.

Those of who don't know already, or have a slightly vague idea of my stint to India - its been confirmed for a couple of weeks now. I'm leaving for Delhi on 30 Jan for my internship. Be there for 6 months.

Would love to catch up with my any of worthy friends for a cuppa, dinner or something other before I leave.Drop me a text,email or line soon.

Hopefully, I will be a bit more disciplined with the blogging so we can all stay in touch.

Much love.

Cads and I.

2006-01-04T10:53:00.000+08:00

Most female deep down want to be the exception or least have wanted to. Whether the relevant guy be a passing infatuation or the fabled “The One” in the girlish dreams of yore. Oh, but we know – or at least we will come to, that it will happen with less frequency than we desire.

Sometimes, the reverse happens. Instead of being the exception, we get played. If we’re lucky and we’re not in love, we escape with fun, transient memories punctured with a scrape of disappointing reality. If our lucky stars decide to take an untimely vacation and leave our hearts in the twilight of misfortune – ah, let’s just not go there now.

Well, you know what they say about education. Here’s 2 stories with no distinct moral.

Type 1 Cad

She thought he wasn’t drop dead gorgeous. Relatively attractive, but what he wore had her wrinkle her nose in slight distaste distaste. Track shoes, track pants on the first date? He looked as if he had just come from the gym, minus the sweat – for that would be more horrifying. What would top that off, would be a pungent, oppressive scent of body odor. Thank God, none, as she sniffed the air around surreptitiously.

He disarmed her in an instant. None too deftly.

“Your teeth stick out like Bugs Bunny’s, from that angle.”

She was stunned, feathers certainly ruffled because she felt it almost certainly rude.

Insert Player Highlight 1:
First line of attack. Something jarring but not rude enough to provoke an overt reaction. She’s pushed into thinking that he sees a flaw. Self-assurance might be momentarily shaken. But before she slots him into jackass category, he uses this as an opening to charm himself into her panties.

Slightly put off, she retreats back behind the slightly reserved façade. Thank goodness, she didn’t have to feel the awkward silence, because his energy seemed boundless. Very intense . He looked into her eyes, never letting up. He made her seem as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. His cell on silent mode, vibrated loudly. She waited for him to answer it. Even pointedly motioning to it, when he seemed to ignore that. “ Let it ring, its rude to take a call when I’m talking to you.” She’s slightly warmed from the earlier jarring move.

Insert Player Highlight 2:
Emotional manipulation is made even more effective by a tangible show of example. It really doesn’t have to be a show of heavenly thunder or lightning. They don’t sweat the big stuff. The players, I mean. You keep the small shit going long enough to get her hooked. Usually when the story falls apart, she’ll cling.

He cracks a few jokes. Eventually moving to a slightly more serious sounding topic. i.e. his attitude in life.“ Life is short. Live it to the fullest.” Affecting a slightly pensive expression, gazing vaguely thoughtful past her, and eventually kneading his brows together in a show of recalled pain. “ I lost 2 people who were very close to me in one year. My father and sister …” And so the story goes.

Insert Player Highlight 3:
Now everyone go awwwww. Tragedy and family ties are almost always a clincher. As we proceed further into the story, we’ll realize that bald-faced lies aren’t so much a frequent tool. Yes, they are used on occasion, but manipulated half-truths are really the staple. That way, they are less likely to be caught out, if say the supposed long-dead sister who had perished in a car crash resurrects at Christmas with gifts in hand. It is also always easier to harness the nostalgia, pain and emotional dynamo from a real life past experience in convincing hyperbole.

Sometimes, even the most practiced players do make a mistake. Too confident in their prowess, they underestimate the “prudence” of a sweet young thing, and put a straight out move on her too fast. He does invite her over to his place, on the pretext of lending her some books after learning one of her passions in life is reading and writing. An actual copy of the Kama Sutra. Little does she know that he would not be able to find his copy later on and will proceed in an attempt of a practical demonstration.

How he does this, from the earlier conversations, he easily weaves in his expertise at a certain kind of neck massage. Clearly emphasizing the health and wellness expect and his proficiency at it. By then it would seem already natural to offer her a massage. Somehow in the course of the massage, he decides that it would be better if she removed her bra “because it’s blocking my way.” The silly girl obliges. She realizes something’s not quite right when he his hands creep lower and his breath on her neck. With a start, she jumps up, remembering what Mommy said about big bad wolves. She escapes by default. In her flurry, he just manages to grab her hands, look passionately almost pleading in her eyes. He lets her go but not before reiterating a good three times, squeezing her hands as though he could convey his non-existent sincerity “I really want to see you again.” He could.

Insert Player Highlight 4:
Emergency salvage. The “I really want to see you again line” with the right degree of conviction and plea-bargaining.

Let’s jump ahead in the story here and go with the idea that yes, she does see him again, and yes he does manage to get her in his bed. Even then, the girl till now still doesn’t know she’s in over her head. Sometimes, it’s the game not just the shag that keeps the cad going. They want her hook, line and sinker. Nothing like the orgasmic pleasure of pure adoration.

Insert Player Highlight 5:
Throw in the “ We don’t have to have sex all the time line.” Oh baby, now convince her that you like her more for her nubile limbs wrapped around you. Post coital mood, whole cuddly-talky thing for goes on for the first few times. After which it doesn’t happen anymore. Also, do bother to text her the whole “ Miss me?” Just two words line over and over again. Here are some other frequent lines.
“ Thinking about you.”On business trips “ Wish you were here with me, the views great from my hotel room.”( When the other girl is bending over removing her stocking, not technically lying is he?)
Cookie cutter? Still it does work.

So her trust was his. He was getting bored. Say, what about I try get her into a threesome with me and my French lady friend. Oh he tries. When his friend visits from overseas, he invites her over. She goes to his place and wonder why there are little hearts stuck in funny little places like his tie rack, his bathroom and study. He’s getting careless, or he doesn’t care to be careful anymore. He says his lady friend does crazy things like this. He even tells her, the French lady jumped into his bed last night, but he refused to participate saying “ I told her I wouldn’t do anything unless you were here.” Game Over for her. She doesn’t question his account, but brushes his doubts away.

Recalling this later on, she thought it was ironic that he hit on her friends blatantly in front of her at a party, humiliating her. She didn’t want to believe it, mistake maybe. Unmistakable though, because the previous night when she wanted to see him, he didn’t pick up. Saying he had an early flight to catch. At the same time he had texted her acquaintance this message, “ Can you see me tonight? I really want to see you.” She found out the next morning.

That was how that ended. Bitter epiphany.

She wanted to express her displeasure in overt displays of temper. Her friends asked her to. She really wanted to. She felt choked. But she didn’t – she walked away with a lesson learnt.

Cad 2

Well she had thought that she had learnt a lesson. Watching out closely for similar connivers like Cad 1. Cad 2 however was of a different breed, missed her radar. Apart from their skirt chasing enthusiasm, they couldn’t be more different. Cad 1 had a Modus Operandi, Cad 2’s libertine nature was inborn.

A down-to-earth good-hearted individual. Capable with a genuine sincerity affability which had her esteem him rather than desire him at first. Everyone liked him, even men. He sure didn’t pull and smarmy moves on her at first, that’s what liked about him. He held her hand, he didn’t try and put his hand up her shirt. He didn’t throw his money about, which was also what she liked about him. And he read classic novels.

Also a penchant for ladies – that found out a little bit later, much to her chagrin. Sad, she felt because he was one of the few individuals in life she would have loved to get to know better. Not necessarily bear his kids, she’s certainly wizened up to the ways of the world. More like the transient individuals that pass through her life but memories to keep and company to relish. He didn’t quite like her that much. Bed warmer for an occasion or two, she was probably slotted into that category.

Ouch. Brutal honesty, does hurt.

This will be continued in a later post.

Argh.

2005-11-27T12:11:00.000+08:00

I have a paper tomorrow and I shouldn't have ended up at attica till 4am last night.

Still, eventful night which I'll probably elaborate on sometime soon.

Of all people, why the HELL did I have to run into him there? When I made up my mind not to stay in contact any longer - I had to see him face to face.

Unfortunate fucking coincidence. My resolve has weakened then, now I have to spend time building it up again.

Seriously -

2005-11-25T16:52:00.000+08:00

The date that I went on went alright - the dude - the Cancerian - horoscopes are pretty accurate. Well, I read his zodiac before this, and throughout the date I was puncturing him with some (I thought)cleverly asked questions, trying to read and analyze his character.My conculsion - yeah, I do think horoscopes do hold a certain degree of truth.

Another conclusion I came to that night - men don't think much of younger women( I refrain from the word girls ). Well, as expected alchohol does loosen one up, by that I don't mean turn me into a loose slut. But here I am trying to pin-point the exact moment when the fucker, decided that he should change the casual dynamics of this date to a sexual one. Mathe-sexually, they take open-minded to equate to open legs.

Note - I don't put first moves on guys. This is something I've learnt in time. Let them do most of the work. Happily, ( with my the third eye at the back of my head watching him carefully, while the rest of me projected a rather excited,exuberant, absorbed self) discussing options,equity and marginalized Red Indians in America, I never thought the topic would gradually inch towards something sexual. I think the lewd jokes that they display on flat-screen TV in Crazy Elephant had something to do with it.

I consider myself open to discussing sexuality, so I answered whatever questions he asked until he got to " What's your favourite sexual position?". Then -it came to my attention, that his prior probing questions - were to test the waters. ( ie, what's your opinion on One Night Stands?, to which I nonchalantly replied I haven't done one yet - though I probably would in the future, just for experience's sake, plus I don't want to make a habit out of it, because the fear of walking STDS aren't just monsters under the bed )I clammed up at that. So I decided to ignore the question.

He was borderline engaging, hard-to-read (plus I wanted to see if there was evidence to prove my Zodiac hypothesis) and from a different culture. He wasn't your typical expat-Attica-flashyeverything-obnoxious-type. Farmboy from Montana who digs extreme snowsports. Thrift tendencies. Not your typical smooth operator. A little roughshed,grittier. I found that rather appealing. Backpacker as opposed to Mr. Frequent Flier Upgrade.

Much as he had several favourable factors to his name, you'll come to realize that the majority of men, become what we call sweet-talking-assholes when it comes to their libido. So he does that the rest of the night "trying-to-be-funny", but here am I thinking he's really trying to be funny - maybe its his offbeat valley boy humor. Giving him the benefit of the doubt. Because aside from a few hiccups,I'm rather enjoying myself.

He got a tad annoying midway through the date, when he decided to be a bit childish and declared that he wanted to " embarrass me" his words. I'm thinking, I thought this belonged way back in Secondary school. Seriously, I'd enjoy being wined and dined as much has having fun prancing about doing silly things - as long as its not at my expense.

After dinner - we made a stop worth mentioning. We walked and ended up at Boat where we stepped into this sorta Bhangra (Spelt correctly?)place. Now that was a surreal experinces. Very small pub/club I couldn't tell. You then has rather pretty Northern Indian girls dancing to Bhangra music. I was the only female there. Several other Indian expats as well as a Japanese business man. Its like geisha-culture, Bollywood-style. I quite enjoyed the the novelty of it.

We later headed to 2 other bars later another bar,totally desolate except for the two of us. One whisky dry, 2 brandys later and I'm a tad woozy. I don't mind him attempting to hug me and enjoyed dancing a bit. But I get very,very annoyed when he decided it was ok to attempt to put his hand up my shirt or down my pants. ( Get this, I know 3-4 drinks is my maximum before I start making dubious decisions - so I don't drink anymore ) Despite, my apparent slowed mobility, I still managed to swat and fend of his groping attempts. Mobility is certainly slowed, but I still mantained a semblence of control at the back of my head.

Dude tries to kiss me like what maybe ten-fuzzy-times, but he never manages to get a full kiss. Part of me likes the unbridled fun I'm having, part of me wants to get the better of him. Make him think that I'll go home with him ( badgered me at least 4 times, even picked me up hauled me on his shoulder ), and of course declined finally. That never wavered in my head. I was of course a slightly scared, almost a impercetible wave of panick to me, when he grabbed my hands twice throughout the night in an iron grip. I realized that I could probably get myself into a lot of trouble. Think is, I've always thought that the female's feminine charms could probably get her eased out of a tight spot, I think I'll make a revision to that unsound declaration soo.

Suddenly, about one - I got tired of his advances, and I got tired of teasing while trying to fend him off. Then he packed me off in a cab to send me home. One of the great tests when I go out with a guy, is to see how he would respond if I supposedly woozy. Whether, he'd try and sober me up or attempt to have his wicked way with me.

In hindsight, I'm not sure if I'm offended or should be. Well, I think I am - slightly. Normally things, don't get this far on the first date. I'm quite sure its the last date. Because, darlings, he didn't get what he wanted out of me. He probably realized I wouldn't budge any further. Then again, this date - from an objective perspective, has been quite an interesting experience.

I got to:
(1) Test my Zodiac Hypothesis
(2) Add to my growing encyclopedia of notes on menkind
(3) have a surreal experience in the Bollywood bar( did go to Eski Bar as well)
(4) Take my mind of things
(5) Have some girly,flirtatious fun (which stopped at the amorous advances)
(6) Meet a new person - despite the fact that I'll probably never see him again *laughs*
(7) Eat decent Nachos

It was quite a productive night.

Anyway ...

2005-11-21T15:26:00.000+08:00

Re-reading through my last post, I noticed several grammatical,spelling,syntax errors that I'm tempted to edit like I usually do. But not this time, don't exactly want to relive those emotions, plus it lends the post some sort of authencity. (Sardonic Laughter)

I'm currently feeling a bit numb. No pain - slight whisker of metallic bitterness on the edge of my tongue. I talked to him about it again. Told him it upset me, rationally speaking it shouldn't because I don't have a legitimate right to. But when it comes to someone you love about, rights go out the window. ( understatement, if he would read my previous post). He, of course reacted almost sympathetically, in all cloyingly sweet sensitivity diluted with some pallid humor to deflect the heat.Typical. He's a bit like teflon - non-stick. Everytime I try to bring a point across, some how he manages to make me feel as though I'm making a big deal out of nothing. Manages to look like the poor contemplative good guy caught in a dilemma.

Bottom line remains coldly,jarringly the same. If he really wanted to see me, he would have asked. People can be busy, but busy people make time for people they care about. Conversation ended on a abrupt note of frustration, with him trying to mollify me. Me getting outta there before I start hurling hurtful comments. Once I start, things can get bloody vicious - Bring on out the ammo, I have an entire chest of disappointments and hurt. Better if I make a quick exit then.

Oh, I know the how the spiel will start again. This will get swept under the carpet, and a week of two later, we'll all be pretend-hunky-dory. Nauseatingly polite conversation. Then I get dangerously forgetful,re this previous reality check. We can lie to ourselves so much. Or at least I can. I'm not surprised if I had a pathologically lying grandaunt in my lineage. Or maybe he'll pull a heartless disappearing act like he did last year.

I'm not surprised anymore.

Anyway...

I have a date tonight. Not with him though.This is a casual date - dinner and drinks. This guy's Cancerian. So I don't expect sparks to fly. I miss romance, I hardly get enough of it. Still,I'm just there to have a good time, hoprfully.

Zodiac Horoscopes, wonder how accurate those are. Its like Finance Theory - things are supposed to happen that way, but at least 55% of the time, it doesn't. Well 45% is a pretty high accuracy level. Or maybe we're just doing the whole self-fulfilling prophecy thing. Becoming what we read.

I generally get along better with Sags. They crazy and funny. I like that. Someone I nearly went out with did a Horoscope analysis on my sign. Asking for my birthdate,time etc. Well, aside from my main sign - apparently I have a Scorpio rising ( I'm not sure, if I got that right)which explains my flirtatious and largely dormant vindictive streak.

Man, what I am doing - I have my exam papers next week. And going out to Clarke Quay tonight, sitting on the bed now listening to Lush 99.5 FM which REALLY is not study MOOSIC.It also doesn't help that I'm in a Christmas mood already. I'm also playing Christmas carols.

Anyone know of Good Christmas song covers done by current-day artistes? Put them in my MP3.

Stunned, disoriented and ... hurt.

2005-11-19T20:38:00.000+08:00

Gnawing,clawing suffocating pain. I can't believe it. I'm so choked emotionally that I need to write. Something which I haven't done for a god awful long time. One can sense virtual weed growing on my blog.

Well, I found out he slept with someone else. It shouldn't hurt, at least not this bad - but it does. All our emotions have always been underplayed - mine more accurately.

Previous time, it was " When was the last time you got laid?" So casually put. So carefully answered. Well, I did sleep with someone other than him then - I was relieved I did. "A month or two ago", we both responded. That was earlier this year.

Since the last time, we met I hadn't slept with anyone since. He had. I wish I hadn't asked the damned question this time around. Flippantly, with some vague sense of curiosity - I asked where how he got laid. "Friend's friend." Then I uneasily, move onto the topic about how I don't sleep around because I'm scared of getting STDS, while trying to decide how I feel. The conversation ended soon after to my relief and anguish, but on a very placid, very put-on friendly note for me. He probably never felt the undercurrents.

I grew breathless, teared - clueless, panicked. Crying on the bathroom floor, with the shower beating upon my neck. First squating, then with my arm propped against the tiled wall desperate to find refuge from the blasts of emotions. Swollen eyes, sore.

Broken. My illusion. I don't know what shattered me. Was it my ego? That I held off getting involved with someone. Not wanting anyone to over ride his imprints on my body. That I can't believe could replace me. I don't know, I don't know.

I just hurt so bad.

Yesterday I was talking to a friend about him (annoymously). How I thought that no one could understand what we shared,despite the continually fucked-uppedness our circumstance. He described it twice as an inextricable link. I described it as en. An eternal karmic bond. Justifying with vehemence. How yes, I loved him. Well, even though he never said he loved me - I knew he did in his own way.

So hollow now. I can't justify it anymore. So many muted questions I want to ask, but the resultant truth any more than I can bear this angony? Maybe I'll talk to him, maybe I'll just go sleep with someone, just to level the playing field of indifference again.

That layer of false indifference. My fabulous acting - everything is swirling around me now. I can't think. I want to call,him,ask him,beat him,slap him ...hold him.

In preparation of Halloween...

2005-10-31T15:43:00.000+08:00

My options were :
(1)Policewoman
(2)Courtesan (a.k.a whore)
(3)Mob Queen

I went to the costume shop, searching for choice(1), the fortyish sales lady nodded vigourously and showed me an NPCC uniform. I blanched. I was even willing to settle for a French Maid costume, but the the low cut bustier rack would be a tad too airy, because of my failure to fill it up.

First line of attack were your party costume stores, after spending a day scouring them - I gave up. Then on to my second line of attack, online adult lifestyle stores, most which were situated overseas. The corsets looked simply divine, especially with the enhancements C-cup bombshells. It was glaringly obvious that I wouldn't fill the pockets, as splendidly as they did, still I pushed that unfriendly thought to the back of my head.I was still willing to ship a corset set ( notice that the quest for a costume had become more like bedroom lingerie shopping trip, if I was going to spend money, I should be able to use them again right? ) but 2 weeks of shipping time weren't enough.

So I turned to the local fetish shops. Overpriced,lousy variety, musty due to unmovable stock - I felt I stepped into an 80s time warp porn show. Mullets, bad hair, platinum blond chicks with scarlett lips and black roots on the head and in the nether regions, except for appropriately placed stickers were placed to cover their genitalia and save their modesty.

Also, I suddenly realized that my cashflow wasn't exactly like last Christmas'Tsunami. I visited Tang's lingerie boudoir dressing room, and was absolutely charmed by a pink and black corset set - until I laid my eyes on the price tag. Believe me, it took a considerable amount of control not to react distastefully. I flung it away in contempt, ala Ally Mcbeal style.

Then I realized that I had a perfectly nice lingerie pinstripe lacey camisole set at home - yes, it was a devastating blow to my ambitions of donning a corset. All I had to get now were a garter belt and lacey stockings. Fish nets are too walking-the-street-corner for me.

Which I did, at a perfectly decent lingerie store.

Before this, I was thinking I'd should do Masculine in Mob, in a singlet,suspenders,pinstripe pants ( Which I have), toy tommy gun and a federro hat. And cigar for good measure. Which I'd probably be more comfortable in - then I wouldn't have cabbies leering at me. Cost wise it ranked second, but I decided to be prudent and leave that for next year.

ALERT: Girls, La Senza's has very reasonable and affordable lingerie.

Though for the stockings, I had to get it from a fetish store. I felt bad about going back to the store, because I never bought anything the last time. The sales girls obviously remembered me - but the pressing and thoroughly urgent need to complete my costume, banished all thought of embarrassment.

Last part to be completed. Satin gloves that my friends are supposed to pick up for me at traditional costume store - like, right about now :)

Its a Miniscule World.

2005-10-26T00:55:00.000+08:00

I've sorta done the online personals before - though I've only actually managed to get really invovlved romantically once.

Its a great way to meet people of all spectrums, you do manage to at least tailor them to fit the traits that make you quiver,yes, I admit I exagerate. Well, in truth at least you can tell that they are of relative intelligence.

Disclaimer : Not an ass-swipe filter.

Its just getting really scary, because I was talking to one of the guys I went out with for a while today, and I asked if he had any links to anyone working in a certain bank.

( Its just me being a lil' resourceful.I attended a career talk by a certain investment bank, that got me really excited. I cornered, the recruiter at the refreshment session later on. I felt I was being a little pushy - I felt a sense of nauseous abhorrence overwhelm me for a bit, because I was playing out the exact caricature of what I NEVER wanted to come across as. After talking to me initially, I got a bit too pushy, dismissed me but not before giving a pointer not to email her my CV, but to use my own resourcefulness.)

This guy I used to go out with, then sent me the Friendster link over MSN re, his friend who was working in this particular bank. I was like HOLY SHIT, this guy had messaged me before, but somehow I never responded. He was hot, in a mature way I guess.

Of course I never mentioned anything to the guy I went out with.

The same guy, I unwittingly hooked up with his Mother's best friend's creep of a son. Rebound - hardly lasted two months.

Funny thing is that, this guy I went out with - I've never truly gotten over him. If he ever hooked up with any of my aquaintances. I would feel so physically sick, I'm postively sure, I would feel faint and vomit.

The world's way too small.

Fuck all the bad group mates in the world.

2005-10-22T10:12:00.000+08:00

I decidedly fucking pissed off.

Functioning on one and a half hours of sleep - and on time on for my meeting. Some group members are leisurely late. And they were complaining about not having enough time? That's fucking bs.

Disgusting.

If they're not here by 1100, I'm out - I don't give a fuck.

Just got another email for another of another procrastinating bum of a group mate. WHO NEVER FUCKING MEETS DEADLINES. Its not the fucking first time. Just because she had a quiz she can't get her work done? I don't think its FUCKING FAIR. I had a quiz this morning, I fucking stayed up last night to get my work. And Slept one and a half hours.

I've tried to be goddamn understanding.

I hope you all fucking rot in hell.

Edit: I wasn't being entirely fair. Lack of sleep does turn you into a demon, doesn't it? Not all group mates are bad. And one I viciously bashed, she's sorta redeemed herself by coming up with at least some sorta substantial work.

I must, I must, I must control my temper.

Wanted: Single Girlfriends

2005-10-08T15:09:00.000+08:00

I lie in bed on a Saturday afternoon wondering where the previous night went to - Saturday night will go to waste as well.

No offence to all my attached girls - they're lovely all the same. Sometimes when they launch into discussion about their boys and all, I can't help but feel I'm missing out on something.

Spontaneous Clubbing nights are now definitely a no go.Plans have to be made way in advance,if anything is going to materialize at all. Its relatively easy to meet individuals that could be dateable, but to individuals and actually become friends, now that's not an easy thing.

Also, most times after meeting up with them - there's a certain degree of pressure throughout, knowing that after they'd be going to meet their boyfriend that has been lurking around. Undercurrents that kinda say, "Chop,chop!The world doesn't run on your time, darling?"

At least 80% of my girl friends are conjoined at the hip with their significant others. The rest of the 20% aren't into the whole clubbing bit or then to have a wider conservative streak than I do.

Well, a higher proportion of my guy friends tend to be unattached- things is you can't do girly things with guys. I mean like, wheres the fun if I go to bars packed with attractive individuals with 3 or 4 body guards?

They've got online dating websites for single people looking to find their mate.

I need a online website to find smart, sassy, fun-loving, sincere and open-minded ladies to hang out with. Do all the nice dinners/bars/check-out beautiful people for sheer fun without having to worry about repucussions from jealous boyfriends or jabbing consciences?

Of course, attached girl friends that ACT single will also be purrrfectly welcomed.

Know anyone that fits the above description? Please get in touch with me, my gratitude will be eternal. As deep as Pammy's cleavage, I swear.

Big Brother Extends His Reach.

2005-09-30T12:42:00.000+08:00

This is ridiculous. No shit.

I can't believe Friendster added the new function of seeing who's viewed you. Now, they know I've been looking at them. I always use Friendster as a surveillance tool re the people I've met online, some random people in my life. Now people know I'm a voyeuristic, nosy bugger.

Embarrassing.

The barest comfort is the fact that they can't count the number of times I've viewed them. Argh!

Fluck you!

I might have to launch into a diatribe against how invasive technology is!The only thing that should be invasive is ME!I feel violated! VIOLATED, I tell you.

Time to register for a bogus account.

Another little irony.

2005-09-27T14:12:00.000+08:00

My mother comes into my room and asks me,
" How much do you save?"
I grunt rudely and say, " I don't want to tell you."
" Why is it everytime you talk to me, you talk as though I want to take money from you?"

I keep studying.

" From this and the Adidas shoebag, ( Prior to this, she had asked to borrow my shoe bag, and I expressed relcutance because I assumed from the word shoe, she want to borrow my heels - and only certain heels are for loan, but she thought I was reluctant to lend the bag to her )you're not generous. Especially towards your family members."

I'll admit I'm not most generous person around, and I honestly don't see not having generosity to be a vice. You have to be discerning in the distribution of resources. So I say " People aren't generous"

Then she says something to the effect that, I won't help the family if the family is in trouble, implying that I'm squirreling my money away for my own purely selfish reasons.

At this point,I'm tempted to jump up with indignance,hurt and verbally lambast her back. Then, I thought, fuck it.Why I'm pushing my myself so hard now, is so that I can eventually equip myself get be successful, so that I can afford you and Daddy a no worries eventual tirement.

And you know what, Mom, you can't handle the truth. Maybe I'm overestimating myself her, or maybe I'm an arrogant twat but I simply don't trust you guys anymore when it comes to finances. My family will get my money if the NEED be, but I don't want the amount to be known explicitly, because its supposed to be a contingent if its worst case. Don't plan with me in it.

While I'm not purely family focused re my future career wise, part of it is achievement, but a huge part that drives me, is lifting us out of this financial distress which has plagued us for god knows how many fucking years, and I'm sick of it. Its tremendously painful and humbling, each time to have you guys look for jobs at the mercy of the cold,cruel corporate society.

You hurt, I hurt - but I don't show it.

Deep down, in my accordance to my time, my goal is to protect you. I'm rude, abrasive some cutting, because I'm dealing with my own whirlpool of stress,bitterness,anger and growing up that I have to deal with.

You say I'm hard, but I have to be - if not, how am I going to survive, much less conquer a small part of it for us?

The pain drives me.

It must be karma, Darling.

2005-09-22T18:38:00.000+08:00

You haven’t lost your touch – you still manage to propel me to the highs and wrest me from them in seconds. Just over a week ago, souls bared – reliving our little thing that we’ve kept on for a while. No one chases the gloom away as effectively as you. What deep comfort we seek in each other. What I would do for you. How our lives seemed to be intertwined in such a contradictory mix of pleasure and pain for the rest of eternity,in your words? Still, I’ve become accustomed to your rejection, my callused heart taking unhealthy but desperate refuge in non-expectation, because disappointment blows. That’s why I’m hard sometimes, so I filter out most of the disappointment. I don’t trust everything you say.

How you promised to stopped smoking on my account, I never even prompted you to – I don’t see why you made that promise when you never meant to keep it. Layer upon layer of the dirt of disappointment. I already took heed not to have any unrealistic expectations otherwise. Your flippancy is at my expense. Fuck you.

I have been semi-successful in conditioning myself to believe that I’m not made for a relationship – which so far has been a self-fulfilling prophecy. Brief recurrent moments of passionate entanglement with you over and again over two years, somehow have never strengthened me enough to leave our history behind. Always for a period of time, then weakness strikes – and I let you back in my life again. Fuck you.

Those sporadic dalliances always leave me happy for a moment, only to kick me deep in the gut when reality sets its foot down. Fuck you.

I’ve gone way past the point of dreaming of a life spent with you till we grow old, where I can spend extended moments on lying on your chest, fingers entwined, our bodies, length to length – while I lie content simply listening to your rhythmic breathing. I wanted a relationship then – I was still a youngin’. Now, I’m just thinking of ways and means to lessen the pain whilst I keep you in my life.

I’m not meant for relationships.

My hopeless myth has obviously been shattered by your own cynical scorn. I might have laughed with you back then when I was younger, joining you in scoffing at the naiveté of the romantic love of others, when I myself had no clue then of what your sardonic cynicism really entailed. Even with the logical, rational equations of unhealthy unrealistic ideals.

I fancied myself in love then. Oh no, don’t get me wrong you’re still the most beautiful man in my eyes - I still love you, part of me always will.

I just think its goddamn fucking ironic that someone in your past had caused you so deep a pain, and you in turn have continuously inflicted it on me. Now, when we talk of the painted illusion of someone else’s romantic love, your pointed, resigned cynicism – I know exactly where you’re coming from. I taste the bitterness first hand.

I must have owed you a great deal in our past life, because I’m paying for it dearly now, Darling.

And fuck you.

You still can make a cold, hard bitch cry.

Aggro Concentrate

2005-09-20T14:09:00.000+08:00

I feel like I have swallowed a bottle of it, its churning quite virulently in my tummy.

I hate everyone.

I feel like I'm 13 again.

Doh.Blue ears.

2005-09-13T12:53:00.000+08:00

Every month or so, I re-dye my tresses blue black. Yesterday morning, was one of those occasions.

So you know, its nice to be looking your best at the start of the week. Plus, I was dressed rather spiffily because there was a talk re:treasury careers which required a corporate dress code.

Had my extra-ebonied tresses up, high in a ponytail,pearl stud earrings, black linen shirt,pinstripe pants and pointy toed shoes. So (I thought) strode into the city campus looking quite debonaire.

All the way up to marketing class - then it came to, too abrupt an end. First thing of my friends said to me was " Your ear got something." Self-consciously, I was like - what?, I touched them in reflex, and noticed a blue-black residue smeared on the tips of my fingers.

My nimble,quick mind sought to make sense of this peculiar occurence and I came quickly to the conclusion that,yup it was the hairdye. The sinking feeling grew heavier as I turned to my friend and asked him " Is it very bad?".

Barely concealing his amusement, he said " Quite obvious." Guffaw,guffaw.

Taking a deep,deep breath this was what I did - pop a mentos,let my hair down and feign a brave nonchalance.

We-eell,that's the truth sans the mentos part.

Was relating it to another friend today and she said comfortingly " It happens to even the best of us."

So there.

(If I could capture this singular moment, my chin would be jutting out. And if you're observant enough, you'd also probably notice that my chin's wobbly - and my lips curled into a pouty,pursed defiance.)

The Eye of the Storm ...

2005-09-10T23:57:00.000+08:00

is a lonely place to be.

The pace of life is so hectic. With impending deadlines looming in the horizon - both short term as well as long term.

I choose the kind of life I want to lead. I set my pace. Sometimes in a desparate bid not to lose ground to emotional turbulances, I have this incredible knack for throwing myself in mind-numbing work.

Wake up - I have this to do, that to do, with the ultimate purpose of tiring myself out to the brink of exhaustion so that I can sleep immediately without having to live the moments of melancholia, that seem to plague me, especially in my solitary state.

Efficiency and effectiveness are my rule of thumb, I'm especially disclined to spend more effort that it is worth. I'd rather forgo the task, and be penalized for it. I get immense peaks,when the full bloom of my effectiveness is realized.

When everything is swirling around you at break-neck speed, I'm sometimes amused,fascinated and almost dazed as I watch the atom-like people in my surrounding collide. Colliding and forming a new type of matter. Vivid interactions begin to make me feel nervous. Nervous because an unnatural jealousy brews that I'm not part of it - eventually it does lose its momentum and fizzles out to an acute and crippling sense of emptiness that not even your friends can fill. It launches me into a pensive mode, where I can't quite function efficiently until I get it out of my system.

Like now - when I'm supposed to be doing some quantitative models.

It's catch-22 all over again.

By the Way

When I become ultra successful, when I've reached my peak given all that I can - enough to take care of my Mom, Dad and sister comfortably for life -

I think I might commit suicide.

Its such a seductive idea, to die at highest point.

Interruption at its finest.

Coitus interruptus.

How beautifully tragic.

What an exquisite waste.

There's a flaw in my perfect plan - Insurance companies don't payout to the beneficiaries of policy holders that commit suicide.

Bullshit.

Bah, I'm resourceful enough, I'll find a way round.

Glazed Eyes.

2005-09-07T23:28:00.000+08:00

Patpong,Bangkok. I did go there for a reason.

Of course, I didn't expect to attain the same enlightenment equivalent to the Nirvana that Buddha did.

Here,the strip/live-sex shows also known as "Tiger Shows" are noticeably shoddier than the strip club I went to in Melbourne last year. The Star of the show was a Nordic Blonde with long,long leg's that would put Jack's Beanstalk to shame. The carefully choreographed and perfectly executed moves were stunning enough to put a Russian Olympic Gymnast to shame.

We've heard quite a bit about the sex shows. Taxi drivers solicited us, them gesticulating,wildly in hope that it would be descriptive enough to whet our interest. When all that failed, they took out a card with the goods/services up for sale.

" BOY MAKE LOVE GIRL "
" GIRL MAKE LOVE GIRL"

And of course when they played their trump, with the nearly completed transexual masterpieces, known as katoeys. Their description, " Snip,Snip" pointing to their chests, and groin.

We didn't go with them, but instead headed down ourselves. The streets were lined with girls, sitting by the roadside. It wasn't long before a crowd of live-show pimps, zeroed in on us. We were taken to a dodgy place, with the same menacing air that one might associate with an illegal underground gambling den. Grubby and sinisterly smokey.

It was a small place, slightly reminscent of the clautrophobic clubs along Mohamed Sultan Road. Club III, if you guys remember.There was a round stage in the middle. With 3 poles. The bulk of the main acts came from girls pulling objects out of their nether regions. From glow-in-the-dark knooted latex hankerchief types ( the sort magicians use), strings of pseudo mini-osh-koshs,ping pong balls (which one of my friend thought was a certain demonstration on how to concoct a Lychee Martini/ to smoking a cigarette/drawing with a marker using their birth canals). Admittedly, I vaguely fascinated, but soon got bored, as with all things repetitive.

I was more interested in watching a pot-bellied Aussie, fondle the boobs of one of the women there. Teasing him with a slightly calculative air. His leer also of a similar calculative edge - knowing that he could grab all he wanted without paying, as long as he decided not to shag her for the night.

Soon,a rude specimen of man, that of countrified calibre who seemed to be of Chinese/Vietnamese origin,was openly gawking and pointing. If actions could be directly translated into sounds - he'd be positively squawking. He opened his eyes so wide, I really couldn't help but feel like poking them out with a fork. He even tried to take a picture with his cell. When I thought his eyeballs couldn't pop out further, I was proven wrong again - when couple on stage started having sex.

It was mechanical. Every two thrusts,they turned like 25 geomentrical degrees,just so that the audience could see - perfunctory customer satisfaction policy. Finesse didn't make her appearance in any part of the acts.

Hip Hop/ RnB tunes not alien to that of a Uni Bash blasted, while they wiggled their hips. I found it amusingly ironic, that the setting minus the explicit acts, would be like that of the JC parties I attended couple years back. How different.

One of the women struck me. Though,I wasn't surprised. I had never seen a jaw so strong, nor eyes so hard, her lips curled into a sneer, as she slowly detached her mind from what her body was doing. Older of the lot - the other girls, younger - still had a bounce in them, trying to squeeze out a certain degree of appreciation(absolutely interchangeable in their terms with superfluous lechery.)from the audience.

The audience was mostly made up of curious tourists,and a small portion of actually lecherous men. Couples in the audience, the female counterpart, squeezing their eyes shut, or looking away in embarrassment as the night progressed. One of them even walked out.

Later in the night,a hairy Indian man became the object of my attention. Wedding ring noted. I think Pfizer would have a field day could milking Viagra essence concentrate from him. He was so amorous, that the moment he sat down, he was pawing the same woman ( with the aussie ) so vigorously that I became alarmed.The same vermin also wanted to take (unwelcome) part in audience participation - when another white college kid at the performer's request had to stick a ping pong ball up her fanny.

Like a Doberman let loose in a SPAM factory.

The nudity didn't faze me as I observed the different behaviors that were on display that night, nor did the explicit sexual acts. I was far more concerned in processing the scene going round me. Almost surreal.

I don't think I pitied/sympathized with any of the women.I don't think they wanted to be sympathized/pitied either. Though the thought of entertaining with the purpose of being a circus act, wrankled me. Irony being - that I also came with a degree of curiosity. I almost hate myself for satisfying that curiosity.

I watched them impassively as they watched me.

Glazed eyes.

That I remember quite clearly. I won't forget either.

Rebounds and Ricochets.

2005-09-06T20:32:00.000+08:00

About this time last year, I was shattered – the devastation muted only by (in hindsight) a misplaced hope. Delusion then was a life buoy; it kept me going for a bit. Up till the point, when I made the realization that, “Look, it really isn’t going to happen.” By that time, I’ve recovered a bit from the trauma, and can handle the bitter pill of truth, marginally better. So how do actually get that buffer time zone?

Yeah, it’s a dirty word – smacks of selfishness.

R-E-B-O-U-N-D.

Had 2 or 3 of those going on– some even concurrently.

But if you asked me then if I they were my rebounds, I would vehemently declare indignantly, “REBOUND? MEEE?”, “No – no way.” And probably chuckle quite uneasily, and unconvincingly. Firstly, I wouldn’t believe that I- paragon of selfless virtue, would be capable of such an inhumane sin of selfishness. (Oh, yeah the self-delusion does go that far, I’m afraid.)

Secondly, I was in denial of my own weak, vulnerable, crushed state. I would have easily scoffed “I mean like - Hellooo? Why – would I NEED a rebound?”

[Disclaimer#1: annoying adolescent bimbo speaking is a persona.]
[Disclaimer#2: Rebounds do not help you get over the individual in question, but they’re useful in their distractive qualities]

I really did try to convince myself that I was trying to get to know them better, and perhaps … you know … things might work out. When you’re emotionally vulnerable, it’s a lot easier to undermine rationale. But by the second/third week, I was panicking and hyperventilating like an asthmatic on steroids. I was dropping hints, had explicit clear cut talks that I wasn’t in it for the long run. I have this annoying thing, called conscience a.k.a integrity hemorrhoids .None of them of course had a problem with it, because I’ve got (an unwitting) built in radar that detects people that aren’t looking for relationships. (It’s all destined, I’m afraid – even the signs showed back then)

You know what I find ironic, quite a number ongoing romantic occurrences between individuals actually are an inter-connected network of rebounds. I might have been rebounded for my heartbreaker. Other times when we’re both reboundees together in commiseration. It did happen once. Other unfortunate times, not. Then one person gets hurt, then he/she goes on another rebound, sparking a domino effect. It’s a vicious, vicious cycle.

Damn, as I’ve said before – God must have failed at theatre studies because he’s gotten the genres of tragedy and comedy mixed up.

I find myself in the position of potential reboundee. The individual in question has just gotten out of a relationship, and is probably missing the companionship that a relationship brings. Despite obvious signs of interest expressed towards me,rebound is written all of it.I don't quite mind getting to know the individual better. If things do take a turn for the romantic, I won’t quite object – it’s nice to hold someone once in a while. After so much heartache, I’ve been conditioned to handle such messy situations, with an almost callous air. I don’t fall in and out of love that easily.

While I'm more inclined to something short-term, I consider myself still open to something more serious, if it feels right, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

But for now, morphine flows in my veins.

Meaning for a brief moment of hugs, intimacy, my emotions are dispensable.

One day, this might come crashing down on me – all this baggage, that I’ve currently stemmed with a dam.

But what the hell.

Soul of a Nomad.

2005-09-04T23:50:00.000+08:00

I've moved back here again. I've shifted - like what 4 times?

These couple of days have been a bit of a bummer. Family finances and all - it seems like a never ending source of grief, as with my own emotional baggage.

Was trying to work out my own cashflow, in light of a trip up to Vietnam, in December - what I didn't forsee, the tight finances. Meaning, no more $200 allowance from my parents. I've gotta rely on the rest of the income, from giving tuition.

Which also means, no trip to Vietnam, unless I:

1)Win the lottery.

2)Whore myself.

3)Win the Marketing Team Competition,which might give me a $600 leeway.

( In ascending order of likelihood )

I feel overwhelmed - and its not the Vietnam trip. That's the small stuff - I don't sweat the small stuff, its a small sacrifice. I loathe that we're in such a vulnerable position. Here's the sole reason why I'm trying to graduate as fast asap -then I'm empowered. Then, I'll be in a position to take care of the family.

So before I throw a pity party of myself, I'll write and think of my future. Its good motivation.I've refrained from ranting to any of my friends. Some things,are better handled by yourself. Even if it does get a little heavy to bear, sometimes.

Writing helps.

Here goes.

I'm going to adopt a kid.

After, I graduate and kick/lick moneyed butt in the corporate world.

Been thinking about this the entire week, and have come up with a tentative hypothesis that I'm one of the few "not created for romantic relationships". In the same way the Orwell fella says that some are more equal than others, I think that I'm one of those that function/live life better, without the complexities of a romantic relationship. You know the shit where people go, " I don't need relationships", I don't even think I can go there.

Nothing's cast in stone, its still tentative.

So marriage would be quite out of the question. Yes, I could probably go round in search of willing partners to help in my dream of procreation ( I like the process by the way ) - but I don't think I'll have the kid myself.2 reasons.firstly, if I do, I'll have to allow the father parental rights. It simply wouldn't do to deprive him of seeing his kid, skirmishes are bound to come up from close associations. Worse still, if I feel even more than affection for the father - then things get messy. Secondly, why bring another child into this world, when so many out there need willing and able parents?

Surface-wise, I'm not Mary-Poppin material - a certain few, have called me hard.

But you know what, despite my apparent clumsiness in that arena, I would love to be able to care for a child that needs a parent.