Before Sunrise / Before Sunset

"When you've felt that much about a man and he disappears from your life, after a while you start to think it was just some foolish illusion on your part and that the other person walked clean away, no scar tissue. But maybe the other person felt the same."

It's unhelpful quotes like these which are the reason I am where I am today. Sitting cross-legged in bed post-clubbing at 5:51 am on a Sunday morning, hair dripping wet from the shower, wearing glow-in-the-dark pjs from when I was eleven, and thinking of you.

Still you. Always you.

Finally watched Before Sunrise and Before Sunset consecutively. From over three hours of dialogue, this resonated the most: "I guess when you're young, you just believe there'll be many people with whom you'll connect with. Later in life, you realize it only happens a few times." 

In my twenty six years, I've only had a handful of true (romantic) connections, some of which culminated in relationships, others which were fleeting but memorable nonetheless. I'm painfully aware of how rare it is to connect so intensely with someone on a mental, emotional and physical level, which is why I couldn't / don't / will never understand how you could simply walk away.

I guess the difference between you and me is that I've experienced firsthand the brevity of life at a young age, so when something special comes along, I know better than to let it slip away. After all, life is short; it could all end tomorrow. Might as well have lived today.

It's too late now anyway. The damage has been done. You've made a fool out of me.

Friends, you say? Why? So you can convince yourself you didn't hurt me as deeply as you did? Sorry, but my pride - pretty much all I have left - won't let me; I can't be friends with someone I'm still in love with. Although if anyone asks, I will plead plausible deniability. It's hard enough admitting it to myself, let alone others. For God's sake, I can't even look him in the eye for fear of giving myself away.

Above all, I refuse to beg someone to want to be with me. I've lived long enough; I deserve better than HAM. I deserve better, full stop.

is it wrong to be crushing on 19 year old twins?

an exercise in restraint

if RS has taught me anything, it's this.

we shall see.

Must. Stop. Thinking.

I will stay away from you, even if it kills me.

sometimes i wish i had all the answers. don't you?

i wish i could meet someone for the first time and just know, "he's THE ONE", i wish love wasn't so bloody complicated, heck, i wish life wasn't so bloody complicated. i wish i knew what the hell i was doing - have i made the biggest mistake of my life? have i just walked away from the love of my life? have i completely screwed up and hurt everyone who ever cared about me? my mother seems to think so, correction, know so, but then again she also insists that i'm crazy so... whatevs.

yes no maybe i don't know, can you repeat the question?

8 years on and none the wiser. i seem to have acquired an irritating knack of meeting the sleaziest scummiest douchebags in the history of mankind. abusive guys, shockingly (below)average guys who think they're all that, guys who lie, period. (hence my current policy of checking ID on the first encounter), guys who think that money can buy you friends/lovers + objectify women and have severe groping tendencies - and these are just the scumbags hailing from the minuscule island of singapore.
 
don't forget the creepy german, aussie banker with ex-wife who propositioned me in hotel lobby, dutch guy who asked louie if he could 'borrow' me for a night, young swiss in barca, possible bisexual czech at gay club in amsterdam, polish chef at house party, swedish millionaire cum asshole in milan, condescending politician from oxford - the list goes on - i can't remember them all but i sure as hell have met some interesting/weird guys in my brief 24 years.
 
now what?

the terrifying truth is, i really DON'T know anything anymore - i'm just as confused as i was at 16, the age of my first foray into the big bad world of relationships - and as much as i hate that glaringly obvious fact, i've acknowledged that in life there are some things you're not SUPPOSED to know eg: who you're going to marry and have 10 children with.

if i could predict everything ahead of time, i'd be psychic now wouldn't i? besides, where's the fun in being a know-it-all?

just when i thought i'd forgotten you, there you are. everywhere, all at once.

i hate that you still have an effect on me. i hate that i ever met you. i wish you never existed.

most days, i tell myself that nothing happened, that i imagined it all in my head.

most days, i believe it.
not today.

the last days of decadence

the collateral: a broken toenail, bleeding foot (upon waking up, i stood on the bed, felt dizzy, promptly dropped to the floor, tripped and managed to stab the back of my right foot with my left. hence the 2-in-1. i didn't realise how bad it was until i noticed my toenail was in 2 parts + facing dfferent directions, multiple blisters, a tiny purple bruise on my knee (discovered in the shower), need i go on?

saturday night out in london; v1 and two friends held a themed party at 'the last days of decadence', a jazz club in shoreditch - for no apparent reason *shrugs* just because. the theme itself was a bit confusing and overlapped several eras, but the crowd showed up dressed to the nines nonetheless. i made the executive decision to brave the elements and leg it to the club, solo, ankle skimming dress and all.

yup, because i'm THAT clever.

needless to say, BAD idea. numb toes, frozen face. the wind just happened to be out in full force, blowing me to bits. the second i stepped out of her house, i knew i was in for it.

i don't know why i didn't realize this sooner but i was a living embodiment of the trend prediction i submitted for my last assignment. truth is, i just wanted an excuse to wear that gorgeous grecian goddess gown *wink* and my new strappy gold heels, mum's belt and A. ivy's cuff were the perfect finishing touches. i dusted mac gold eyeshadow lightly across my eyelids and cheekbones - i was going for ethereal, not sure if i passed though. i even took the time to curl my hair, i, the original miss low-maintainence, do-not-own-any-hair-product, never-brushes-hair, bf-spends-more-time-styling-his-hair-than-i-do!

party was fab. went there not knowing a soul (what's new) but by the third glass of wine, shyness be damned! i was going up to complete strangers and saying, "you don't know me but...." *oh the embarrassment* then i proceeded to fall asleep on the sofa for 1.5 hours (honestly i had no idea! i thought i was out for half an hour max.) to my credit, it was towards the end of the night and i hadn't gotten much sleep that week. by the time they managed to rouse me from my deep slumber, it was closing time and everyone else had left.

one thing i remember! some english dude dressed as a samurai (from the 'what i wanna be when i grow up' party downstairs) asked me if i had a boyfriend and remarked that i was "scandalously hot!!" aww. how cute.

sunday - dimsum with v1/sarah, brick lane with carla/alexa, dinner with v1

monday - miserable weather; spent the day reading indoors. dinner with virgi, ben and their friend ja at some posh jap restaurant.

there were a bunch of drunk/rowdy bankers/lawyers/businessmen sitting at the table in front of us. one of the cuter ones (at first sight) started beckoning to me from across the room, calling out "hey you, in red!" (i was wearing a red H&M cardi) it was kinda hard to ignore; he came over, sat next to me and started yapping away, inviting us to join their table. i didn't want to be rude but i was wishing really hard that he would shut up and go back to his seat.

long story short: supremely drunk, apparently he's done it all> banker + lawyer + businessman = asshole in my books, words "ex" and "wife" ring a bell? etc. when ben arrived, we motioned for drunk dude to make a move. let's say he wasn't too pleased. he was wearing a BIB for god's sake!?!

we decided to switch our table for one downstairs. had a lovely dinner and catchup. eventually came closing time, but we wanted to continue chatting so we headed to a nearby hotel (for the bar). as luck would have it, upon entering the hotel, i spotted the same group of guys walking out of the hotel bar. i quickly spun around and whispered for virgi/ben/ja to follow suit. we weren't quite quick enough. he spotted me, and came over (again).

I GOT PROPOSITIONED!

this dude, had the audacity to invite himself up to my room! 1) i didn't have a room, i wasn't even a guest at the hotel. 2) hello, ex-wife? 3) he was kinda hot but still virgi! you're supposed to be a good influence, not encouraging me to have flings with drunken bankers/lawyers/businessmen!

thinking back, i can't believe he actually said those words "why don't we go back to your room?" or "why don't you invite me back to your room?" something sleazy like that, whispered in my ear. you know how these things happen in the movies and you think to yourself: if that were me, i'd be sure to have a witty reply at the ready. well, i didn't. my mind went blank, i couldn't think, let alone speak. the best i could do was turn around and walk away. he kept calling after me, asking us not to leave.

seriously, seriously!

*shakes head* only in london....

cafe 1001

last week was a whirlwind of fun! (exclamation mark for extra emphasis)

thursday
bought the most amazing oversized knitted shrug from a REISS sample sale at brick lane - it was exactly what i was looking for. we just so happened to be there, whereas others were physically hunting it down. twice, people ran up to me asking where the REISS sale was (having seen the bag in my hand). ooh knowledge is power. fyi: the shrug was originally £95; the sale price was written as £20, but it could have easily been a squiggly £10. when i brought it up to the till, the guy was making small talk and throughout the entire transaction i was still thinking: let it be £10. please, let it be £10. he charged me £15!! carla and i kept very quiet/calm, but the second we stepped out the store, we both turned to each other and exclaimed: he charged you/me £15!! i did a little jig on the spot.

lunched at cafe 1001. i had heard about it so many times by so many different people that it had practically been drilled into my subconscious. NGR and i always walk past and sniff at the aromatic burger/hotdog stand whilst checking out the colourful crowd seated at the benches but we never properly ventured in before. by the way, it is fantastic.

upstairs is chock full of comfy sofas, chilled out music playing, people sitting crosslegged on armchairs with their laptops, in their laps. an example of just how chilled out the atmosphere was; some guy started playing the saxophone (out of nowhere!) carla and i were chatting over our food when we heard the sound of a saxophone. we turned around and there he was, surrounded by his friends. totally and completely out of the blue. how random is that huh?

the rest of the day consisted of: running around london on errands, meeting up with carla's friends D and J, back to cafe 1001 so they could have dinner. J was a blast. she whipped out 2 bottles from her bag; one was vodka and i'm not sure what the other was. we all had drinks. then we headed off to UCCA's graduate photography exhibition, which was located somewhere in brick lane/shoreditch.

i surprised myself; i had such a good time socialising (that i made a deal with myself not to be holed up in my room and to make a conscious effort to mix around [next year]). i conversed with some of the seniors from my course and other people i'd never spoken to before. sure, meeting new people for the first time is slightly strange/awkward for me, but hey, alcohol always helps. they were serving red/white plus stew (the name of the exhibition was called stew), so it was fitting.

i stopped drinking after a few glasses, because i know myself *the look* but D and J were such a riot! firstly i noticed that D was started to sway and the wine in her glass was sloshing out at random intervals, then they started banging on the piano when the sign in front of them read "please keep quiet" hahaha. we left as the exhibition was clearing out, owen the dancing queen wanted to party into the night but we went back to cafe 1001 instead (yes, again) to meet J's boyfriend and grab some food. after a bit, carla and i bravely decide to leg it, from brick lane to shoreditch/old street.

on the way home, carla gets hungry. so we make a pit stop at some shop along the street. while we're there, i notice the dapperly dressed indian guy next to me picking up his wrap and telling his similarly suited friend 'not to leave alex alone.' i turn and see his friend (let's call him B) leave the shop and stand next to 'alex'. oh, who am i kidding? i noticed alex even before we entered the shop, he was really cute :) but weirdly enough, he was talking to a bunch of filthy looking guys, probably drunks. so B positions himself next to alex, and it seems like they're saying goodbye when suddenly i see alex raise his third finger and go "fuck you!"

uh-oh.

it was like the gates of hell were opened. cans came flying at them like missiles and their suits were completely doused in beer. they were standing outside the shop, the other two trying to break up the fight while alex stood there dumbstruck. the drunk was shouting "don't EVER tell me to fuck off!!!!" but after some convincing, he and his posse walked away, kinda. i reached out to offer the suits tissue when another guy walks in with two girls. he's not a drunk but he IS drunk (get it?). he notices the suits and yells, "don't offer them anything! they don't deserve it. where are you from?!?!... goldman sachs!? BASTARDS! i'm a bartender, i should know!"

in my head i'm going: damn straight but i say nothing because a) they may not be from goldman sachs b) even if they were, i'm sure A SELECT FEW are actually decent human beings. plus i felt sorry for them. before any of us could react. the drunks come back, kick alex once or twice and run away. all that comes to mind is the fight scene between hugh grant and colin firth at the end of bridget jones diary. it's such an un-manly way to fight, come on, kicking someone's leg?? all this while, the italian guy behind the counter tries to open the door and bring the men in, to keep them safe from the drunks but the IDIOT bartender is holding it shut, telling him not to help them. asshole. why are men so idiotic? it's always about them and their bloody egos.

out of the blue, alex breaks from his reverie and runs after the drunks. the italian man is yelling, "don't let him go after them. it's dangerous out there!" carla and i are terrified, being caught in the middle of a fight, it was really quite scary when the drunks came back because we were just about to leave but had to retreat into the store once again to keep out of harm's way. the second alex ran off to chase the drunks, carla and i left, without buying anything. the stupid bartender told us not to be afraid, but i felt like saying "ignorant people like you are reason enough for us to be afraid."

he had absolutely NOTHING to do with the fight but was simply adding fuel to the fire. we need less of these kind of fools around. tsk. all they do is cause additional trouble. them plus those drunks and maybe alex, for being dumb enough. good god.

friday, to be continued...

i saw chace crawford.

*edit

status: watching gossip girl on my laptop while waiting for my laundry to dry (i had no choice, i ran out of clean underwear heh) and for hot water, to take a bath.

man, seeing chace crawford in london must be the HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE.

how random is that!? it's weird watching him onscreen now knowing i saw the actual specimen itself - right before my very eyes. i'm 100% positive it was him; he was even wearing the same outfit (heather grey long sleeved tee and beanie) as was featured in teen vogue, conveniently stashed in my bag - the second i was done gaping, i immediately whipped out my copy to double check, then i proceeded to smile dreamily for the next half hour or so, at nothing and no one in particular, all the while thinking: lili/mandi is never going to believe this! followed by what the heck is he doing in london? more so, alone?

*screams*

i must admit i've never seen a boy quite as beautiful as him before. *swoon* he's like a walking talking living breathing piece of art, or a sculpture.. sculpted to perfection. thank god for self-control, otherwise i might've pinned him down and raped him. hahaha. i kid, i kid.

on a separate note, my weird behaviour is freaking me out, i'm not usually... clingy. ugh. i don't care, i'm blaming the hormones. with complete disregard to the kind of treatment i'm accustomed to, this should not be happening at all. no matter who likes who more. because i'm not CLINGY or NEEDY and neither am i a fan of PDA. it used to send shivers down my spine - not in a good way - so how and when did i unknowingly join the club? AHH. kill me now please.

no calls
no texts
no msn
no physical contact

that should do the trick.

(*note: we accidentally broke every single one of the abovementioned rules.)

perhaps i'm too used to the game.

he said she said.

he said she said

"kiss me."

rome part I

best 21st birthday week ever. (if you think about it, only 21st birthday week.) 21 only comes once [in a lifetime]. the celebrations started on tuesday, with the surprise cupcake birthday party followed by pre-party drinks and proper clubbing on friday night in london. lastly, the weekend in rome.. ending with our flight back to uk last night. 7 days in total, 7 days well spent.

rome was... an experience.


i recall getting off the bus at the train station; at the sight of all the roman gods milling around, mandi and i simultaneously turned to each other. i exclaimed "ooh my day is improving already.." cue: the look. grin. more laughter.


there is nothing quite like being in rome; walking down the cobble-stoned city, brisk winds whipping your hair back, stylish fur-clad ladies strolling past, men calling out "ciao bella!" at every corner, vespas lining the street just begging to be ridden (under the tuscan sun anyone?), dogs/horses and dog/horse poo littering the streets/roads, consuming gigantic portions of genuine sicilian ice cream with the same frequency as our meals (twice a day.. or more), eating PROPER pizza & pasta out on the streets like the italians do, ohmygod espresso shots & cappuccino, hot chocolate (as in real chocolate, melted) done right...

i'm convinced the entire city is shrouded by a cloud of smoke; be it exhaust or cigarette. every breath you take feels like you're lighting up yourself, so much so that one night in libreria - quaintly charming little over-underground tea room/wine bar near our hostel - watching leatherjacket man (our nickname for him) smoking sexily, i was suddenly overcome with the overwhelming urge to grab his cigarette and inhale deeply. SHOCKING, tell me about it!

yet somehow being in rome... it even explained the smoke.

quote of the week,

"WHEN IN ROME, DO THE ROMANS."

to be continued...

the mint chicks.

t'was a perfect saturday morning until some killjoy spewing a racist comment came along, effectively ruining it. as i angrily told manda and lili later on, had i not been carrying 3 bagfuls of groceries, i would've run after her and yelled "what did you say?!?" or pulled every strand of red hair off her head. better yet, bashed her with my milk.

but i didn't. do a thing.

instead i stood there, mouth agape. helpless to defend my friend, who hadn't even heard what that horrid girl spat out. turns out, i was the only one who had seen and heard anything. funny thing, i'm chinese too! but that stupid idiot didn't even glance my way. i know this, because i was staring at her staring at my friend the whole time. a look of utter contempt on her face as she scanned her up and down. part of me wishes that she had directed that comment to me instead, so i could've responded and maybe i'd be justified in feeling this way.

i know i overreacted. these things happen. but i couldn't help it; feelings of anger and extreme injustice overwhelmed me. i was really quiet on our way back to halls, manda and lili could tell it was still on my mind. it's just not fair! ARGH. plus i felt guilty i didn't defend her :(:(:(

anyway, moving on.

on repeat: the mint chicks. crazy? yes! dumb? no!

<3<3<3

it is the cutest song with such a littleboycute lead singer. nz music brings out a weird side of me, for example, two comments i randomly made whilst discussing 1) brit guy from brick lane aka sexy curly hair boy 2) hot lead singer from nz band FFD

"raped him with my eyes" followed by "kill someone for me with his cheekbones"

*raises brows* see what i mean?

mr ox.

i just had a semi-argument with someone i hardly know - let's call him mr ox. - and for that reason alone, i'm pissed off. for starters, you don't even know me, how could you possibly judge me? if you knew me in the slightest bit, you'd also know that i DETEST being told what to do and being talked down to - and you did just that, in the most condescending tone humanly possible - or spoken to like a child. i'm (soontobe) 21 for god's sakes!

*shakes head* i do not envision this friendship happening anytime soon, not that there ever was a fighting chance to begin with. on second thought, there was, until, 15 minutes ago?

and to think that i was almost ready to be the bigger person - tonight in fact, i had a revelation; life is short, forgive and forget - make the first move, raise the white flag and come over with a peace offering in hand, re: you-know-who aka ** person (it's time i started coming up with new names) and his wish to be friends. but now that this has happened, all i can say is: over my dead body. it only serves as a painful reminder of all the things that have passed. i will never again allow myself to be spoken down to, or have someone speak to me in such a manner, as if i were a two year old. frankly, it's insulting.

this is just not happening again.

OR maybe i should stop being so uptight and let bygones be bygones already. but.. it's funny, this time round i'm not the one being uptight. seriously!

BOYS ARE STUPID.

i don't believe i have to justify that statement; it's self-explanatory.

they only know how to hurt you (universal), lie to you, ill-treat you,

lose your number, not lose your number,

two-time you, abuse you, call you names, forget to call, keep you waiting, leave you hanging all. the. time.

and the list goes on.

i speak for the rest of female population when i say: the world would be a better place without them boys.

ugh. icky creatures.

note: babe, i'm so sorry.

if i could beat him up, i would.

just you wait till i come home.

frog vs. prince theory.

"she misses her kisses."

:(:(:(

feels like ages since my last kiss,
but now that i think of it, it's only been..

what, a month?

hmm.. maybe more. just over, i think.

my question is: how many slimy frogs does one have to kiss to get to a decent prince?

colourblind

just out of curiosity,
when will enough be enough?

just how much am i supposed to endure before i'm (verbally/physically) allowed to retaliate? why do i have to play little miss nice all the time? why is it that i seem to perpetually be on the losing end? what, do i have "bully me" stamped across my forehead?! what exactly have i done to warrant this kind of treatment? pray tell..

am i too naive, gullible, innocent... all of the above, or just plain delusional. (wait no, don't answer) hook line and stinking sinker, i fall for the same crap time and time and time again. from Y>Y>L>T>T. *shudders*

see, here's the thing (cute little ref. to gym class heroes): i've been wracking my brains the past few days (a truckload of drama [relatively minor, only in relation to past typical-victoria-type dramas] has unfolded, naturally) and i've actually run out of reasons to explain this phenomenon.

it's just one stellar example of life playing a cruel and seemingly neverending/endless/continuous joke on me.

i shan't even bother feeling sorry for myself, or attempt the whole "woe is me" act. boofrickinhoo. this is far too ironic for even the likes of me. one can't help but laugh bitterly in the face of this 'adversity' haha. i mean, what else is there to do?

repeat after me:

when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!
when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!


ever heard the saying "fool me once, shame on you. fool me twice, shame on me." well yeah, that applies too.

*wry smile* funny, isn't it?

was chatting to deb all the way in nz.. can't recall whether it was just this afternoon or the night before (time difference and all that, messes with my head) might've been both. even though we haven't spoken on the phone in... ever - being the tech-savvy folks that we are, *snort* we've always felt more inclined to email (the real hook is the concoction of subject titles. ooh.. i'm pretty sure only you and i got that deb. CUE: INSIDE JOKE) - yet somehow it feels fine... comfortable.

let me tell you, she is one wise child, (fine. 'child' is taking it a bit far, given that she's only like half a year younger *grin*) i often tell her she's blessed with wisdom beyond her years. so true.

she tells me to calm down and not let my feelings show, which i'm interpreting as;
1. never let them have the upper hand.
2. always keep your poker face on.
3. show no sign of emotion.

..... to be cont'd

status: hooked on meteor garden reruns on youtube. daomingsi! now that's what i call effort!

Victoria is lying in bed with the tissue box, experiencing the first signs of post-traumatic internal bleeding.

i like them pretty.

'house party mo fo'

we got all dolled up for... let me see, nothing.

to think that i actually put on a pretty dress and did my makeup for this party! not that it was bad, just way too crammed (the party-down-in-the-basement theme was pretty cool though [i'll give him credit for that], and the dj console in the kitchen/on the stove was rawking!) and surprisingly humid (being in a basement and all, i assumed it would be cold), the garden was cooler - temperature wise - but it was comparative to being blind. there were no lights, at all! to get from point a to point b, one literally had to feel his/her way around. i lost count of the number of peoples' feet i stepped on and fell/bumped into.

at least i got to see ____. ironically, the more i see i him, the cuter he gets (even up close) BUT on the other hand, it seems like the oddest time for me to get my priorities straight - out of the blue, i find i'm not that interested anymore, despite all the other girls' comments on how cute he is.

how do i explain this: in the past, the old "we want what we cannot have" saying would've applied just fine, but *shrugs* somehow the realisation that he's unattainable has lost its appeal, based on that fact alone. what is the point in wanting what you cannot have? why go through all that unnecessary disappointment when you can easily sidestep a disaster waiting to happen?