Tuesday, 26 May 2009

red wine

Last Friday, RD took me to a posh wine bar post-dinner, where we engaged in playful banter over a glass of red wine. He chose a light one for me, knowing my alcohol tolerance is comically low. My cheeks warmed, and I felt giddy, laughing more than usual.

As we stepped outside, rain began to pour. We sprinted half a block before I started gasping for air, my chest aching. Under one umbrella, I leaned against him, my heart racing and eyelids drooping, feeling like I was having a mini-heart attack. I needed to sit down, just to catch my breath, and told him I simply wanted to sleep.

He panicked, calling my name repeatedly, giving me water and hugging me tightly. In my dreamy state, I mused that dying in his arms wouldn’t be the worst way to go.  After a few minutes, the spinning stopped and I sobered up.

Moral of the story: do not drink and run.

Monday, 25 May 2009

my two cents

Lately, I’ve become more conscious of my money, especially with some recent lifestyle transitions. My full-time student status has significantly curbed my spending tendencies. Money's presence often goes unnoticed until my wallet becomes lighter; that's when its absence feels heavier than a bag of coins.

My parents are generous people, so money has never been an issue at home. I was raised with the mentality of "money comes, money goes." It’s similar to the concept of good and bad karma (something I don’t buy into). In my naivety, I believed that if you gave to someone, someone else would give back to you. It was a natural money cycle that God invented to keep us balanced. It didn’t mean that I expected my generosity to be reciprocated, but that false assurance funded my social charities. I understood the value of money at a young age and knew how to manage my finances. I could easily treat a friend to a meal just out of courtesy or give an acquaintance some cash if they were short (have you noticed how some people never have cash on them and are always looking for an ATM?). I was happy to cover parking and petrol fees even though I drove everyone there. I didn’t hesitate to lend people money and trusted that they would remember to return it as soon as possible.

Resentment built up over the years. In high school, a classmate (we weren’t friends) asked me for a pacer lead because she ran out. Since I was well-stocked with stationery, I became her silent supplier. I gave her two leads, one for the road. She probably took that as an invitation to unlimited lead sponsorship because, for the rest of that year, she didn’t bother buying her own and relied on me for pacer leads. I figured that she was from a poor family because why would any loving parent deprive their child of pacer leads? 

I also had a series of books that I lent out to friends, creating my own little library. My zealous spirit encouraged others to share my passion. My bookworm alter ego wanted to recruit readers to join my three-member book club (the other two members are still my best friends to this day). Those so-called friends did not take care of my precious books, and more often than not, the books came back used and abused, stained and shredded. It was beyond me how that could happen since I covered them with clear contact and also a plastic jacket for extra protection. It broke my heart every time one of my babies came back damaged. It still hurts when I think of it now. 

I loved giving presents. I was excited to buy close friends gifts on their birthdays and Christmas, even though it wasn't mutual. It didn't bother me because it made me feel good to give, but it hurt me when I caught them re-gifting. (Who are all these horrible people, and why was/am I still friends with them?! Ha.)  

Because I was kind to my friends, I was compensated with loving boyfriends who made it their business to spoil me rotten. (Please refer to the money cycle theory.)  

Recently, my laidback attitude shifted into bitter gear. Now, I am careful with my money, reserving my generosity for the less fortunate and those who deserve it. I also avoid lending out small notes because they seem to vanish into thin air. A dozen of the $5 notes can add up to a nice skirt. I dislike owing people money or anything for that matter. I don’t understand how some people can just sit on this burden and delay loan repayments. Out of all of my friends, I know who is flexible with money and who isn’t, and it’s just a personality flaw that I have to accept.  

Though, I get along better with friends who have better things to do than count every cent. You can tell that you’re close to someone when there is no need to split the bill. “I’ll take it this time, you can cover the next tab.” No big deal. Trust. Honesty. For those who are more comfortable paying individually, I’m not going to fight it. Sorry folks, I’m not a walking ATM and I have a mortgage to pay.

Thursday, 21 May 2009

status king

Facebook is an excellent tool for networking and staying in touch with people. I use it to tag photos and organise events. My favourite feature is the status update, and it annoys me when people misuse it. Reflecting on my life, I have to say that being crowned the Facebook Status Queen was my greatest achievement. They even sent me a t-shirt with my winning status update.


Wednesday, 13 May 2009

unconventional

I wish that I was conventional and had common interests with everyone else. If I were normal, I'd be excited over things like travel, sports, artsy stuff, Harry Potter, reality TV, and the zoo. Instead, I have unusual tastes in everything. Take my embarrassing taste in music, for example. I like songs that I can sing along to; it's just a coincidence that these songs are from artists like Hilary Duff and The Veronicas. Why can't I be cool and be a die-hard fan of Coldplay or some other deep band?

I'm also very uncultured. I feel nothing in museums and art galleries when tricked into visiting them. I am bored to tears, my eyes water up and blind me to the apparently beautiful works of some famous dead person. When I was younger, I pretended to like art so that people would think I was interesting. I also faked a fascination with fantasy novels so that I could share in my friends' excitement whenever the next million-paged book was about to be released. The truth was, I liked my Babysitters' Club books. I read the first three pages of the Harry Potter books in hopes of understanding why my friends acted like adolescent girls at a boy band concert, but to no avail.

After falling asleep during the first Lord of the Rings movie, I had to face reality. I was not a fan of fantasy movies or books. When crawling through a fantasy book, I grasped no knowledge whatsoever about any of the events that had taken place within the magical world of these epics. I got tired of consulting my dictionary after every page, so I stopped. I felt that maybe I had wasted time pretending, trying to inject myself with artificial joy about something that I didn't care about. Eventually, I told people that I wasn't into fantasy chronicles and they accepted me for who I was, once they were done judging me. I was glad to announce to the world, "Harry Potter is boring." I wonder if this is the same relieved and happy sensation that people experience when they quit going to the gym.

Monday, 11 May 2009

no glove, no love

It was windy yesterday. Every time I feel that familiar gentle cold breeze wash over my face, I reminisce about my senior school days. We waved farewell to an all-girls environment and moved to a new school to merge with the boys next door.

The hideous aqua plaid uniforms that resembled tablecloths were packed away to make room for the freshly ironed, somewhat sleeker grey checkered skirts and blue blouses. Blue socks, big meadows, jammed lockers, Hot Raymond in 3 Unit Maths, and pizza pockets all come to mind whenever I recall the first day of 11th grade. We were juvenile, full of life, and ready to begin a new chapter in our academic journey.

A classmate managed to hack into my combination lock and stole my locker; the little punk and I took turns moving each other's things to and from our lockers when the other wasn’t in sight. That was some high-class flirting technique right there. We were labelled as a married couple because of the daily quarrels, so needless to say, we became the best of friends. He carried my bag and books for me, we exchanged letters during class, I copied his homework, fell asleep on his shoulder during Physics, and he even lent me his blazer since I always forgot mine. We shared his gloves, one each because he didn't love me enough to give me both. Talk about selfish. I guess frostbite wasn't his favourite thing in the world.


Thursday, 7 May 2009

you belong with me

Dreaming 'bout the day when you'll wake up and find
That what you're looking for has been here the whole time
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me...


Taylor Swift - You belong with me.

This song amuses me. It reminds me of when I had a male best friend.

Friend: I met this girl...
Me: *Drops the mobile phone* Cool, what's her name?
Friend: It's ____.
Me: I know her.
Friend: You know everyone!
Me: I don't know her that well, but we have mutual friends. Need me to stalk her for you?
Friend: Haha no thanks, we're just getting to know each other. We've gone out with a few others and had a few short conversations.
Me: Great, so why not ask her out on a date?
Friend: I'm not sure if I like her.
Me: You probably don't. haha Only kidding... Why not?
Friend: There's just no chemistry.
Me: That means you definitely don't like her.
Friend: I think I need to get to know her better, I need to have some alone time with with her so I can see why there is no chemistry. She's intelligent and friendly. I just don't understand why I have no chemistry with her.
Me: Because you already have chemistry with somebody else.
Friend: Hahaha you're funny.

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

Our relationship has its ups and downs. I'm not one to air my dirty laundry in public, as my new philosophy is to document only happy moments, not sob stories.

One of the greatest abilities of the human mind is its power to forget. We've both forgiven much but forgotten most. Sometimes it's good to remember, but only to recall the lessons learned. When the fight gets too heated, emotions are heightened, sanity scatters, and our harsh words can potentially break us up, but they can definitely break something else too.

What if there were a way to erase it all? When we're in the middle of an ugly brawl, aside from my swollen eyes, it's my heart that suffers the most. Yet still, my heart keeps beating. Because even when broken, it still works.

"I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love." - Mother Teresa.