I turn the radio up, but nobody's singin' to me

Amanda is partying in the You Ass of Aye.

Eu Chern is rocking out in the Eu Kay.

Lucinda is back to reigning the Kingdom.

Chee Kin is waltzing around the Land Down Under. 

And I am Nowhere.  

Seeing the same old places I've seen for the past 20 years, eating the same food I've eaten for my entire life.
While everyone is elsewhere in the world having exotic experiences.
Or at least ones I would probably never have.
Since I'd be graduating here anyway
What a way of thought to live out the next 365 days before any of them would be back.
I know it's psychological and would wear off sometime, but it's goddamn wrecking me up, okay?

P.S. Mom, if I forfeit my student exchange program to Japan for a summer in Paris, would you grant it? I mean, it's not like I'm going there to shop. If Tham Ying Hui shops on her own volition, the sun could just rise from the west. 

You showed me faith is not blind

Today my dad met up with a friend whom he hadn't seen since the Manchester days 30 years ago.

He said they talked and got along like they always had when they were young; as if they had only left university yesterday; as if they had been living on the same street all this time.

The guy even showed my dad the letters they slow-mailed each other. They were all yellowed and probably as old as me.

I want to have a friendship like that (:

I believe in us. Do you?

I love you just the way you are

I swear to drunk I’m not God.

Fine. It’s obvious that I’m lying coz it is pretty depressing to admit that I’m still sober, not that I expect a bottle of Heineken would knock me out. But my cheeks are flaming hot right now, my forehead feels feverish with a temperature warm enough to melt marshmallows, in fact, my whole face has a reddish hue to it that it looks plagued with rashes, and my senses are zingy and hazy at the same time AND my throat is exhaling giggles like some champagne flute.

At least it beats puking all over myself, spilling God knows what secrets and ending up with a hangover.

Anyway, dinner was a helluva start to the night. My Elephant is highly recommendable. The food was sinfully DIVINE. So much that we could have recorded our Album of Moans there on the spot. Honest. Everyone at the table was all ‘MmMmMMMmmm. Oh God. MMmMmmmm’. For a bunch of people who NEVER FAIL to find words to describe everything, our loss for words said a lot. In case you’re wondering, yes of course our seats were dry when we left

But the dinner got more fun when we sang the birthday song for Nicole EXTREMELY loudly in an attempt to embarrass her. We did. A third of the other customers turned to stare at us. And almost all of them even clapped and cheered for her. Woohoo. Plus, the chocolate moist cake with chocolate icing was DELISH. Loves.

I guess it made sense that it would seem such a bore of us to just leave then. The night was young. Idealistically, we would wear the hours off at a club, preferably one with free entrance, but it was Friday and who were we kidding?

So we ended up in a darken corner at the Laundry Bar, assaulted by blasting club hits with ear-popping beats and wrapped in the aroma of cigarette smoke.

It felt kind of odd and slightly uncomfortable sitting there in short jeans pants and shirt (the rest weren’t any better off) while the other partygoers were dressed up but things loosen up when Jo Yee ordered 2 buckets of Heineken, 5 in each. And the rounds began.

We played Pussy till we downed at least half of our beer. Attempts at other games failed miserably. We had to communicate via texting on the phone and passing it around. Aha.

But I was soon in an inexplicable ecstatic state where I found anything and everything deliriously funny. Sugar Alcohol rush, baby! After we pushed Nicole on to the stage to dance alone for a song, I practically hopped my way there, along with Lucy, Jo, Jo Yee and Eu Chern, and pounced straight into the music by swishing my body like a tasered weirdo.

Ah, stress relief. What jury? *Guffaws inanely*

God, I miss some of ‘em songs; Low, Boom Boom Pow, I Got a Feeling, London Bridge, Put Your Hands Up in the Air, Dynamite and a gazillion more, though they played nicer songs when we were leaving. Boo.  

It was as good as being in a club. Better, even. Coz it wasn’t choke-filled of ugly and fat dancers, had the hits we used to love, and all of us were in it together. Well, actually it was 6 at a time since one of us had to look after the bags.

The rest of the hour we spent there was a blur of swaying bodies, heart-thumping beats, dimmed neon colors of the electronic disco ball and fits of laughter.

Left the pub around 1am and Jo got me home safely after a whole stream of hugs and shouts of goodbyes and well wishes to those who were leaving. Dad was waiting at the door for me and he wasn’t pissed at all.

It was a wickedly perfect night, wasn’t it?

 Appetizer

 Pretty, no? Damn I'm good at editing. Ahahaha. 

 Xe Linn and Jo

 Nicole and Jo Yee

 What WAS up with that guy in the left corner (zoom in to view)?!

Nah we didn't smash her face into the cake. 

*Photo credits to Xe Linn and beautiful editing of some credits to me

Wish you were with us, Amanda Leong and Fong Chee Kin <3

20 great things about dating a writer

Found this on Nadhirah's tumblr. Naish.

Writers will romance you with words. Dating a writer means that you will receive love letters. Quirky notes will turn up in your pockets. Flowery descriptions of everything great about you will be shared on special occasions. See my recent post on things to write someone for Valentine’s Day for an idea of what you may receive when dating a writer.

Writers will write about you. Date a blog writer and you’ll find yourself bookmarking that blog to see if there are references to you in it. Date a poet and you will see yourself reflected back in some of the lines of poetry that the person recites at open mic nights. Your narcissistic tendencies will be happily fed when you date a writer. Of course, the drawback here is that dating a writer means that personal details about you may turn up in written form and the writer may write much less flattering things about you if you break up.

Writers will take you to interesting events. Writers, as a general rule, are curious people. We like to go to lots of different types of things so that we can widen the boundaries of our life experience and therefore broaden our writing. When you date a writer, you can expect to be invited to everything from burlesque shows to roller derby races to foreign countries.

Writers will remind you that money doesn’t matter so much. People who write for a living don’t do it to get rich. They know that money may matter but it’s not the most important thing in life. Dating a writer will help to remind you that it’s important to pursue your passions.

Writers will acknowledge you and dedicate things to you. Writers are big on acknowledging those who have helped them. Almost every book at the bookstore has a page for dedications and / or acknowledgments. Song writers and poets frequently include a dedication on their work. Date a writer and the world will know that you’ve supported someone in the arts.

Writers will offer you an interesting perspective on things. There is a writing quote about how writers taste life twice - once in the living and once in the re-telling on the page. Writers pay attention to interesting details in life so that they can recapture the world in their writing. When you date a writer, you will be privy to all of their insights about life’s events and experiences - and you may find that you get to see things in a whole new light.

Writers are smart. The majority of writers are intelligent people. They are usually well-read and well-educated which means they can hold their own in many types of conversations. Dating someone dumb just isn’t fun for long; dating someone smart is always an interesting challenge.

Writers are really passionate. Writers use all of their senses. They are passionate about their work and passionate about their lives. Your life will be enhanced by this passion for things when you date a writer.

Writers can think through their feelings. Writers may be really passionate but most of them don’t fly off-the-handle with emotion. They like to take time to process things. This ability is a true asset in a long-term relationship.

Writers enjoy their solitude. Unless you’re in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, you probably want at least some time to yourself and time to spend with your friends and family. Writers want time to be alone to write and think which means that you’ll get your own much-needed space as well.

Writers are creative. This sounds obvious but it has a deeper truth to it. Creative people are more capable of coming up with solutions to problems in life. Dating a writer means a chance to come up with creative solutions to life’s problems.

Writers wear their hearts on their sleeves. Sure this depends on the writer but most writers are pretty good at articulating what is going on with them. If they adore you, you’ll know it. If they’re mad at you, you probably won’t have to guess at why.

Writers will teach you cool new words. Writers love words. It can be irritating when they use ten dollar words in normal conversations but it can also be kind of fun to stretch your mind and build your vocabulary. Expect to play lots of Scrabble when dating a writer.

Writers may be able to adjust their schedules for you. Writers who can set their own schedules might be willing to rearrange things to spend time with you. They might be happy to meet you for a long lunch or to spend a luxurious morning in bed with you. Don’t expect the writer you’re dating to give up all of his or her time - they have to work regularly to pay their bills just like anyone else - but do know that there are some scheduling perks possible when you date a writer.

Writers can find 1000 ways to tell you why they like you.Writers are wordy and they like to express themselves. You can bask in the glow of hearing good things about yourself in ways that you’ve never heard them before. Of course, some writers will also be all too happy to tell you your faults so make sure you date a kind writer!

Writers communicate in a bunch of different ways. Most writers are pretty flexible in how they communicate. They’ll be just as content to get an email from you or to chat on IM with you as they are to talk on the phone (maybe even more so). This means that however you communicate regularly is probably fine for the writer you’re dating. 

Writers can work from anywhere. This is nice because it means that writers can happily travel with you. They may have to take a laptop and spend some time at the hotel when you go to the beach but you can enjoy much easier vacation planning with a writer than with someone who works a 9-5 job.

Writers are surrounded by interesting people. Writers have a lot of characters in their lives. If you like meeting interesting people, just plan on being the date that goes along to parties and other gatherings with a writer.

Writers are easy to buy gifts for. Writers are happy with little things. Most writers like getting books as gifts. Since they aren’t really into the pursuit of money, they aren’t going to be chasing you for the big bucks you spend on them. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t spoil a writer if you want to but you should know that they value thoughtfulness way more than most material things.

Writers are sexy. There is a reason that people have fantasies about the school librarian. Male or female, those bookish types are hot hot hot.

Why date airheads when you can have desirable writers like me?

Yes I have a tendency to be narcissistic at times. So bloody what?

Tonight, a candles lights the room

Last night’s dinner was SUPPOSED to be perfect.

Me and my Sluts in a homey little café, with woody interior and furnishings, painted window panes and leather couches and cushion sofas to sink into for tea. And there was Xe Linn, who was initially invited to surprise Jing Hua.

Ah, it was such a pretty circle of friends for an age-wise-significant celebration. I wish it was just that simple and beautiful. It was SUPPOSED to be that simple and beautiful.

But oh no, SHE had to turn up somehow.

The bee-atch from the dark times of my Form One life.

Ursula had resurfaced.

And I had to spend the whole evening on the edge, biting down my tongue while keeping the daggers out of my eyes as I stared at the two-face sitting diagonally across from me.

Hello, eye-liner does not make your eyes any less squinty and calculative; neither does the glossy coat of your sickly pink lipstick make your voice any less whiny. Hmmm…You know what would fit that thin neck of yours and complement your outfit? A sparkly yellow ribbon-choker. I would be more than willing to put it on for you. Don’t worry, I would make sure that before I get to the bow part, I would tie the knot real tight and tug mercilessly at both ends, so that your shiny necklace would never come loose.

Of course, I had to keep my disgust for her presence in check. Jing Hua was the special soon-to-be-birthday girl and if what’s-her-face being there made her happy, I would do anything to make sure she stayed happy.

But I did lash out at her once, when she was displaying her single manicured fingernail to everyone. I feigned admiration.

“Ooo…I have friends who manicured their fingernails too, like yours!”

She just eyed me while Eu Chern went, “Really?”

“Yeah! Long, painted nails with sparkly stuff sprinkled on them. But only a small number of them. We call them ‘Princesses’.”

“Why? They’re pretty?”

I raised my voice just enough to reach her. The radius that included both of us was disturbingly small. “Nah. It’s our school’s secret code for bitches.”

God, I felt so much better, whether it slapped her or not.

But the rest of the night improved slightly as we both studiously ignored each other. Or at least that was how it felt like.

Anyway, Jing knew about our surprise. No surprise. Our forte is spontaneity, not planning. She said it was predictable, though she never thought for the world that we would buy her cupcakes instead of a proper cake. Not that the cost of 36 tiny lots of them was cheaper than a huge Secret Recipe one

The Cuppacakes were sinfully delicious. The designs on top were swoon-worthy and earned a round of “AWWWWW!” The look on Jing’s face was priceless (:

And Jing loved the CD I got her, the gift that I had hunted a whole day for. Or, as she put it, ‘put so much thought into’. I can hear Eu Chern clearing his throat.

Took a break during our present-shopping

Lucy and me at the Bee!

Eu Chern and his fedora hat

Jo and her bangles

Xe Linn!

A sugary sweet toast to your teeming 20th birthday, babe!

Can you hear me smiling when I sing this song?

Popped into Eu Chern’s car to help find an empty space for him to repark so we could walk to One Utama from my place.

“Hey, you heard about the BookFest?”

“Yeah.”

“You been there?”

“No. You wanna go check out some books?”

“Sure thing. Let’s do that instead of One U. Crowded shopping mall sucks.”

**********************************************************************

En route to KLCC on the train.

“Hmmm. You know, the BookFest is probably made up of 60% Chinese books. Plus, the English books sold there aren’t any much cheaper than those in MPH.”

“Ugh. That’s distasteful.”

“Tell me about it. Wanna ditch KLCC then?”

“Yeah. It’s not like we’re going to shop there, right?”

“But where to? Uhm. What about we hop off at Pasar Seni. It’s been ages since I'd last been to Petaling Street.”

“Sounds good.”

I'm going to miss you so much, bitch :(

I need a little more luck than a little bit

Piano lecturer is demanding to hear 'quality music' during every class in preparation for my practical exam in 5 weeks' time. 

The hell-wreckers behind Modern Band Ensemble think the only way to armor us to handle the real music world in the future is by playing 10 songs within 7 weeks. 

Drums classes further seeks to lower whatever self-esteem I have left. 

HAMM is mind-boggling, information overload. Almost like having to fill too many a chasm in my teeth. 

Choir is a relief, though, a sweet dessert rainfall in the scorching heat. And no, it's not because I could just blank out and still pass the subject, like my previous semesters, but because I'm learning, and in a fun, almost-child-play way. We sang and danced (albeit discordantly), we squealed and laughed when we got the moves all screwed up, we stalked up and down the hall without directions as a 'choir exercise'; things I'd been missing and yearning for since leaving CHS choir. The best part is, we don't need sectionals. Hell yeah. Of course, we would have to work twice as hard on our own if we planned to arrive at the end of the semester in one piece. 

I really need lessons, or at least a survival guide, on how to live out a short semester. 

To quote myself:

"If I have any balls on me, it would be marbles, and I'm already starting to loose some of mine."

 -Tham Ying Hui-

I'm straight in a straight line, running back to you

Let's be a dream again, shall we?

Olive you

31st August '10

Dinner was just like the last time me, Amanda, Jo and Jing had dined at Kissaten. The entire meal had a lazy feeling to it. Mmmm. Awesome start to the evening, save that disturbing minute or 2 when we puked over THAT Yes Man scene.   

Plus, that particular Starbucks shop that we lounged at after...damn it was cozy. The curtains, the deco, the ambience, man, I could die of fuzzy warmness. And the fact that I had my Moansters with me just made it hot-chocolate-by-the-fireplace-in-midwinter perfect. 

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars, I could really use a wish right now

Please, please, please approve my appeal to drop the subject, Juan.

Because I would like to sleep in peace, knowing I wouldn't need to stitch my head back up again the next night. Because I would really like to get through the days without needing to rely on oxygen tanks for once. Because I don't like taking up a challenge unprepared, a blind foolishness and not bristling courage, then disappoint my parents by failing.

I'll bake you lots of cookies (:

So, pretty please, sir?

The way I are

“Come on, you guys, give me a sexy pose!” I was half-screeching already, must be my sugar rush acting up again.

“Don’t worry, hon’. We’ll look so hot that we’ll melt your popsicles!” Wow. Someone’s high today.

“Mmm. Now what kind of popsicles are you talking about?” I licked my lips for the effect.

And Cheeks’s voice went uncharacteristically low, “Why not YOU tell me?”

No. I'm not imagining this conversation. It DID happen. Though the words might have been slightly different. 

No wonder we freaked people out at restaurants and caffeine-intoxication centres. 

Sigh. I guess I miss us more than I could ever know. 

I'm holding on, barely breathing

Monday

9.00-11.00am                     HAMM 4

11.30am-12.30pm            Band coaching

2.00-3.00pm                       Ear Training 4

5.00-6.30pm                       Choir sectionals

Tuesday

2.00-3.00pm                       Band practice

5.00-6.30pm                       Choir    

Wednesday

9.00-11.00am                     HAMM 4

2.00-3.00pm                       Ear Training 4

5.00-6.30pm                       Choir sectionals

8.00-9.00pm                       Band practice

Thursday

1.00-2.00pm                       Piano    

2.00-3.00pm                       Ear Training 4

5.00-6.30pm                       Choir

Friday

9.00-10.00am                     Piano

12.00-1.00pm                     Ear Training 4

3.00-6.00pm                       Modern Band Ensemble

Ugh. And I haven't even added my Minor instrument drums classes. 

Hello hell.