Monday, July 24, 2006
No stones...
... are ever left unturned and things always go full circle. So many strange coincidences in P's life and it is beginning to sound like a bad plot of a play when she recounts her life stories to her friends. P always gets the answers even when she isn't searching for them...
P has always been very curious as to how his or rather, their bedroom look like. The doors were deliberately kept shut for some reason during the housewarming party and she silently wondered then if it was the Lady of the House's way of obscuring the real extent of their intimacy behind closed doors, betrayed by possibly two separate mattresses. Or maybe he was getting a little bit self-conscious about exposing P to their joint sleeping arrangements where he had twice mentioned off-handedly of their year-long celibate (still counting) relationship where he had zero liberto for her... His excuse or rather hers, is that he is getting too much stress and fatigue from work.
As curious as a cat could be, P tried her hardest to suppress her desire to broach the subject. For at times, she privately suffered the base emotion of jealousy that would occasionally awake and rear its ugly head. She took care to suppress that blase feeling that should have no place in an arrangement like theirs. The deal is sealed between them, like it or not by P, despite all the we'll sees tentativeness that he drops to assure her (and perhaps himself). Her comfort (further extended by her best friend's prep talk) is reasoned by the fact that she would not wish to be in her position. Behind closed doors, what is left for her is just his physical presence, no laughter no romance and physical intimacies, you do not envy her position...
****
On the weekend, P took a trip back to the place where she spent a good part of her youth in anxiety and frustration. The "dark years" era of her coming- of- age life as she would secretly label. She took the initiative to catch up with a friend she had not seen since she moved on to another city...
Like the last time, P arranged for catch up dinner at the best Chinese restaurant in town. Over hot soup, stir frys with XO sauce and Chinese tea, they chatted about their latest career and relationship updates. And they cross-checked with each other about people moves where their university schoolmates have moved on to and who they still kept in touch.
P mentioned Dope as the only someone that she kept in touch "for a bit" and asked if her friend if she knew whom she was talking about. Her friend was not from their era at university. She came a good two to three years after. Post their single statuses.
"Oh Dope J ?" Yes, I know his sister. I recently went to his house," she said.
She sat up.
"Did you? Which one?" P asked cautiously.
"The Pyrmont one. Is there another one?"
"Well, they just moved. I went to the housewarming party."
"Nice decor."
"Yes. By the way, did you get to check out the rooms? They were closed when I was there."
"Yeah, I went into the master bedroom to use their bathroom."
"How was it furnished? Is the room spacious?"
"No. Not really. A double or queen sized bed with two matching side tables. That pretty much fills up the room. But nice decor though."
"Ah, I see."
Then P moved on from the subject.
... are ever left unturned and things always go full circle. So many strange coincidences in P's life and it is beginning to sound like a bad plot of a play when she recounts her life stories to her friends. P always gets the answers even when she isn't searching for them...
P has always been very curious as to how his or rather, their bedroom look like. The doors were deliberately kept shut for some reason during the housewarming party and she silently wondered then if it was the Lady of the House's way of obscuring the real extent of their intimacy behind closed doors, betrayed by possibly two separate mattresses. Or maybe he was getting a little bit self-conscious about exposing P to their joint sleeping arrangements where he had twice mentioned off-handedly of their year-long celibate (still counting) relationship where he had zero liberto for her... His excuse or rather hers, is that he is getting too much stress and fatigue from work.
As curious as a cat could be, P tried her hardest to suppress her desire to broach the subject. For at times, she privately suffered the base emotion of jealousy that would occasionally awake and rear its ugly head. She took care to suppress that blase feeling that should have no place in an arrangement like theirs. The deal is sealed between them, like it or not by P, despite all the we'll sees tentativeness that he drops to assure her (and perhaps himself). Her comfort (further extended by her best friend's prep talk) is reasoned by the fact that she would not wish to be in her position. Behind closed doors, what is left for her is just his physical presence, no laughter no romance and physical intimacies, you do not envy her position...
****
On the weekend, P took a trip back to the place where she spent a good part of her youth in anxiety and frustration. The "dark years" era of her coming- of- age life as she would secretly label. She took the initiative to catch up with a friend she had not seen since she moved on to another city...
Like the last time, P arranged for catch up dinner at the best Chinese restaurant in town. Over hot soup, stir frys with XO sauce and Chinese tea, they chatted about their latest career and relationship updates. And they cross-checked with each other about people moves where their university schoolmates have moved on to and who they still kept in touch.
P mentioned Dope as the only someone that she kept in touch "for a bit" and asked if her friend if she knew whom she was talking about. Her friend was not from their era at university. She came a good two to three years after. Post their single statuses.
"Oh Dope J ?" Yes, I know his sister. I recently went to his house," she said.
She sat up.
"Did you? Which one?" P asked cautiously.
"The Pyrmont one. Is there another one?"
"Well, they just moved. I went to the housewarming party."
"Nice decor."
"Yes. By the way, did you get to check out the rooms? They were closed when I was there."
"Yeah, I went into the master bedroom to use their bathroom."
"How was it furnished? Is the room spacious?"
"No. Not really. A double or queen sized bed with two matching side tables. That pretty much fills up the room. But nice decor though."
"Ah, I see."
Then P moved on from the subject.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Moments of Weakness
There are moments of weakness where one does what one is resoluted not to do. That is to pick up the phone and make that call.
P is not much of a phone dialer. Too many let down episodes and failed attempts at being a professional prank caller while growing up, she stopped trying altogether.
Funnily, that is what she has to do in her profession to be good at what she does. The more calls she makes, the better her mapping excercises and the closer she is to the market that she operates in. It seems that she has come of age to be confronted by that dark place yet again and there needs be for her to face her demons (ie. phone phobia) squarely and possibly exorcise that impediment and incoherence to her seemingly extroverted personality that is only capable of radiating charmingly in real human company.
For two consecutive days, she made two calls.
****
One was to a gentleman that she is rather attracted to electronically for his gift of clever wordplay and intellect, combined with his potential virility and skilful techniques in the private chambers. Nothing titillates her mind more than a sexy brain and great bedroom gravitas. As headhunters put it, he fits the bill stylistically.
Being a ladies' man, P reckoned he could help satisfy one aspect of that emotional gap that she experiences in her rather empty life. She could not help picturing the amount of potential or chemistry, as she likes it better, that they might well have on a far flung getaway dirty trip...Especially so, at moments where she dons her new lingerie before the mirror or when she sweats away at the gym...
So she picked up the phone and dialled the number. She reckoned it has been almost a good 6 months since they last heard each other's voices and it was a great time to re-acquaint themselves and refresh their memories of how the other would sound like.
As usual, her voice on the phone, like her less than photogenic self, did little justice to the charm she is deemed to exude in real person. She figured she sounded less sure of herself.
And thus, she renewed her self imposed vow where she figured she is better off dealing with the gentleman in scintillating electronic correspondence or revisiting each other in person behind cloor doors in another place at another time-where they would smother each other with enough dirty talk and play time to satisfy themselves carnally and intellectually...
****
Having two hours to kill, she reckoned she could lend the company of The Man for a drink. She hadn't seen him since the last time possibly in April. The last time, he eyed her secretly and caressingly and when she turned and caught hs longingness with a smile, he was quick to turn away in embarrassment. Already a wine in hand at her work desk and feeling slightly more relaxed as she was unwinding for the weekend, she dialled his number.
The Man is at home. With the wife. So she has finally arrived from that far flung country where arranged marriages are still commonplace! He had her transported (or perhaps her wicked self would proffer, imported?) three months ago as the visas got approved.
She thought she would never see him again since the last drink. She wondered what got into her tonight.
As usual, the 10 minute conversation ended in cordiality as it so much also extended to P's kindness in lending his wife a hand in pointing her to the right direction for her job search.
What a positive way to end the week!
There are moments of weakness where one does what one is resoluted not to do. That is to pick up the phone and make that call.
P is not much of a phone dialer. Too many let down episodes and failed attempts at being a professional prank caller while growing up, she stopped trying altogether.
Funnily, that is what she has to do in her profession to be good at what she does. The more calls she makes, the better her mapping excercises and the closer she is to the market that she operates in. It seems that she has come of age to be confronted by that dark place yet again and there needs be for her to face her demons (ie. phone phobia) squarely and possibly exorcise that impediment and incoherence to her seemingly extroverted personality that is only capable of radiating charmingly in real human company.
For two consecutive days, she made two calls.
****
One was to a gentleman that she is rather attracted to electronically for his gift of clever wordplay and intellect, combined with his potential virility and skilful techniques in the private chambers. Nothing titillates her mind more than a sexy brain and great bedroom gravitas. As headhunters put it, he fits the bill stylistically.
Being a ladies' man, P reckoned he could help satisfy one aspect of that emotional gap that she experiences in her rather empty life. She could not help picturing the amount of potential or chemistry, as she likes it better, that they might well have on a far flung getaway dirty trip...Especially so, at moments where she dons her new lingerie before the mirror or when she sweats away at the gym...
So she picked up the phone and dialled the number. She reckoned it has been almost a good 6 months since they last heard each other's voices and it was a great time to re-acquaint themselves and refresh their memories of how the other would sound like.
As usual, her voice on the phone, like her less than photogenic self, did little justice to the charm she is deemed to exude in real person. She figured she sounded less sure of herself.
And thus, she renewed her self imposed vow where she figured she is better off dealing with the gentleman in scintillating electronic correspondence or revisiting each other in person behind cloor doors in another place at another time-where they would smother each other with enough dirty talk and play time to satisfy themselves carnally and intellectually...
****
Having two hours to kill, she reckoned she could lend the company of The Man for a drink. She hadn't seen him since the last time possibly in April. The last time, he eyed her secretly and caressingly and when she turned and caught hs longingness with a smile, he was quick to turn away in embarrassment. Already a wine in hand at her work desk and feeling slightly more relaxed as she was unwinding for the weekend, she dialled his number.
The Man is at home. With the wife. So she has finally arrived from that far flung country where arranged marriages are still commonplace! He had her transported (or perhaps her wicked self would proffer, imported?) three months ago as the visas got approved.
She thought she would never see him again since the last drink. She wondered what got into her tonight.
As usual, the 10 minute conversation ended in cordiality as it so much also extended to P's kindness in lending his wife a hand in pointing her to the right direction for her job search.
What a positive way to end the week!
Fate or Coincidence?
Now first the mini email sequel:
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 5:05 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
well i still think that you could have come along... not like i'm going to talk to anyone there really
oh well
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 05:07 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
So are you saying you want me to come along, baby? ;)
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 5:12 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
do you really think that you're going to get an answer to that question?
apart from
"well that's up to you to decide isn't it"
followed by
"and you've already organised dinner with your sis"
****
After work, they took their usual walk, both in the direction of the Wharf. Their designated restaurants were to differ.
He commented that she looked lovely tonight. That’s a lovely outfit isn’t it?- as usual compliment meted out in rhetoric. She was wearing a real 1950s vintage mini pink mini shift dress (the “Dusty Springfield” dress as her colleagues would call it), her signature pearls, a brown bohemian jacket with a ribbon tie collar she bought in Paris and matching point brown stilettos and a brown leather drawstring handbag. Her brown shoulder length hair butterfly clipped halfway. In the spitting rain and wind, they walked on. The chill spiralling up between her barely covered legs with each movement she took. He asked quietly if she was feeling too cold.
Almost reaching the junction where she was supposed to meet her dinner companion, Dope realised that he had left his wallet in the office. He bent down to kiss her and hurried in the opposite direction.
****
The proposed cuisine for the night was Caribbean but it was thwarted by a private function. And eager to get away from the now pouring rain, P and her companion were limited to the row of restaurants on that particular stretch. Careful to avoid Kobe Jones, they contemplated on the few given choices that were available and paced along the sheltered terraces looking at different menu offerings.
From a short distance, she saw him on the phone and P signalled to her companion. Finally, B could put a face to that name.
She had a good mind to call out to him but saw a couple intercepting and thought the wiser to hold herself back. P and her companion then hurried into the nearest dining establishment- so it had to be conveniently Thai for dinner.
****
When P got up from her table for the ladies, she walked past a group of about ten. He looked up and their eyes met. They nodded at each other with a slight smile as she walked swiftly past, the lead in the dinner party quite oblivious to the momentary recognition between her beau and the passer-by.
To greet or not to greet?
As she got out of the bathroom, she took care to do a swift getaway to avoid any need for forcedly patronising pleasantries much required in that delicate social context of awkward (for him and her) and unwanted (for her) chanced meetings.
So Thai dinner they did ended up having together, but at their respective tables.
Now first the mini email sequel:
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 5:05 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
well i still think that you could have come along... not like i'm going to talk to anyone there really
oh well
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 05:07 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
So are you saying you want me to come along, baby? ;)
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 5:12 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
do you really think that you're going to get an answer to that question?
apart from
"well that's up to you to decide isn't it"
followed by
"and you've already organised dinner with your sis"
****
After work, they took their usual walk, both in the direction of the Wharf. Their designated restaurants were to differ.
He commented that she looked lovely tonight. That’s a lovely outfit isn’t it?- as usual compliment meted out in rhetoric. She was wearing a real 1950s vintage mini pink mini shift dress (the “Dusty Springfield” dress as her colleagues would call it), her signature pearls, a brown bohemian jacket with a ribbon tie collar she bought in Paris and matching point brown stilettos and a brown leather drawstring handbag. Her brown shoulder length hair butterfly clipped halfway. In the spitting rain and wind, they walked on. The chill spiralling up between her barely covered legs with each movement she took. He asked quietly if she was feeling too cold.
Almost reaching the junction where she was supposed to meet her dinner companion, Dope realised that he had left his wallet in the office. He bent down to kiss her and hurried in the opposite direction.
****
The proposed cuisine for the night was Caribbean but it was thwarted by a private function. And eager to get away from the now pouring rain, P and her companion were limited to the row of restaurants on that particular stretch. Careful to avoid Kobe Jones, they contemplated on the few given choices that were available and paced along the sheltered terraces looking at different menu offerings.
From a short distance, she saw him on the phone and P signalled to her companion. Finally, B could put a face to that name.
She had a good mind to call out to him but saw a couple intercepting and thought the wiser to hold herself back. P and her companion then hurried into the nearest dining establishment- so it had to be conveniently Thai for dinner.
****
When P got up from her table for the ladies, she walked past a group of about ten. He looked up and their eyes met. They nodded at each other with a slight smile as she walked swiftly past, the lead in the dinner party quite oblivious to the momentary recognition between her beau and the passer-by.
To greet or not to greet?
As she got out of the bathroom, she took care to do a swift getaway to avoid any need for forcedly patronising pleasantries much required in that delicate social context of awkward (for him and her) and unwanted (for her) chanced meetings.
So Thai dinner they did ended up having together, but at their respective tables.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Everyone's a Winner
Like she always reckons- Winning is a state of mind.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 8:57 AM
Subject: oh dear...
i don't think that you're going to be so happy now
i've been requisitioned for this evening for X's farewell dinner
you're welcome to come along tonight, if you like
but i don't think it was what you had envisaged...
sorry - a bit of an unexpected development.
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:02 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
Great!!!!
Juz knew this was going to happen!!!!!
And no, I would not go to any farewell dinner!!!!
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:26 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
I told you- if she has time on her hands, she would have something planned for the both of you!!!!
She's that type!!!!
So I pre-empted it and that's why I suggested that you should perhaps register your busyness with a "function" you need to attend!!!
And since you dun even know any of those pp, how could you have ask me to tag along, dope?!!!!
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 9:30 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
i don't think she planned it for me - i'm just expected to be there
it's a work farewell - makes sense
i know what you're saying, but functions don't come up that quickly - so not applicable in this circumstance
well it's not just myself asking, X asked you to join too
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:36 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
you know, I won't go to such things.
I am too out of place!!!!
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 9:45 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
heheh... i think everyone who is not an auditor would be out of place...
oh poor miss P
i bet that right now, you're feeling "duped"
i did try valiantly - hence X is asking you to come along as well
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:55
Subject: RE: oh dear...
"Valiantly" hey? what a big word!!!
that's what I thought- not cos she wants me to come but cos she wants you to come and be next to her, hence she is giving you the leeway to get your fren to come along so that u won't be too unhappy to have to cancel your plans with your friend.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 10:09 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
i hope that you're not being sarcastic there... i can use other big words too
well no actually, it's just her work colleagues that are coming to this one, so the extended invitation makes you special
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 10:16 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
No, not being sarcastic!!! Juz trying to lighten up the mood for myself ;p
I dun think so- that makes u special cos she's bending backwards for you so that you would put in an appearance with her!
See, her world revolves quite a bit around you...
btw, where are u guys going for dinner tonight?
Btw, I think I have to wait for a call from Dubai tonite.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 10:31 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
oh poor miss P
stay happy now
hmmm... i think you'll find it's more than quite a bit
Table for 10 at Kobe Jones
oh good news - did they get back to you?
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 10:41 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
yeah, I was just playing it down and being diplomatic, Dopey!!!
I know when I see the way she looks at you- to still be so enamoured after 6 years, that's quite a big feat!!!
I might just pop up since I like to secretly indulge in the memory of the nite where we hooked up and dined and wined at Kobe Jones ;) What time is dinner?
but let me re-organise my time with the pp at Dubai...have to check the time clock!!!
The client contacted me directly!!!!
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 10:56 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
well you have to understand the effect i have on women
: P
i don't know what time dinner is... probably 7 - i'll find out later and let you know
well let me know for sure that you are free
well that's good, isn't it?
-----Original Message-----
Thursday, 20 July 2006 11:10
Subject: RE: oh dear...
well,well, well- someone is blowing his own horn :p
Well, in order to secretly relive that old memory of us at Kobe Jones amongst a bunch of boring auditors and having a dark private chuckle, yes I will comply and accept the invitation to dinner...;)
I have pushed my call to 12 midnight and am awaiting reply.
We'll see- anyhow, I really should be printing stuff out abt the company and have a read and so I could talk shit tonight....;)
20/07/2006 02:20 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
Think I better not go for dinner tonite.
But thank her for inviting me.
-----Original Message-----
Subject: RE: oh dear...
you've changed your mind?
well it's up to you - dinner is at 7.30pm
or is it because of your call?
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 2:57 PM
To: Subject: RE: oh dear...
Yes, I have changed my mind.
I think B and I are having dinner at La Cita on King Street Wharf.
I figured it would be too weird for all of us to put things into context.
1)Her colleagues would think who the hell is this girl and body language will tell that I am not her best friend. The farewell was intended by her colleagues to bid her farewell.
2) She probably didn't want me to come silently but she has to ask anyhow so as to not incur your wrath or discontent for disrupting your proposed meet up with a friend so it is an obligation to ask (and praying at the back of her mind that the invitee would decline).
3) As for you, you would be stuck in an obligation to entertain your fren (ie. moi) who knows no one when the attention and the star is supposedly her. She would secretly not like the diversion of attention. She would go home feeling uneasy (plus if she sees how short my dress is today,even my boss said so, and imagine that I was supposed to be meeting u tonite if not for the dinner), you guys might end up having quite a tense moment behind closed doors when u reach home cos she wouldn't know how to verbalise her displeasure/ discomfort and would find something to pick a fight with. Which is counter-productive and unnecessary for all parties.
Therefore, in order to make everyone a winner in this case, Miss P (for pre-empt and peace) has decided to extract herself from this occasion. Her thoughts for winning for herself in this case is she is granting everyone a win-win situation...;)
-----Original Message-----]
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 3:36 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
ok, well as long as you are at peace with your decision
hope that your dinner with your sis is good
i'm sure you look very nice today
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 3:44 PM
: RE: oh dear...
Yes, I am and for once, I think I found a perfect solution to winning ;)
Like she always reckons- Winning is a state of mind.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 8:57 AM
Subject: oh dear...
i don't think that you're going to be so happy now
i've been requisitioned for this evening for X's farewell dinner
you're welcome to come along tonight, if you like
but i don't think it was what you had envisaged...
sorry - a bit of an unexpected development.
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:02 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
Great!!!!
Juz knew this was going to happen!!!!!
And no, I would not go to any farewell dinner!!!!
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 9:18 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
did you?
I didn't...
i'm not exactly looking forward to the dinner either - i don't know anyone that's coming!
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:26 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
I told you- if she has time on her hands, she would have something planned for the both of you!!!!
She's that type!!!!
So I pre-empted it and that's why I suggested that you should perhaps register your busyness with a "function" you need to attend!!!
And since you dun even know any of those pp, how could you have ask me to tag along, dope?!!!!
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 9:30 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
i don't think she planned it for me - i'm just expected to be there
it's a work farewell - makes sense
i know what you're saying, but functions don't come up that quickly - so not applicable in this circumstance
well it's not just myself asking, X asked you to join too
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:36 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
you know, I won't go to such things.
I am too out of place!!!!
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 9:45 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
heheh... i think everyone who is not an auditor would be out of place...
oh poor miss P
i bet that right now, you're feeling "duped"
i did try valiantly - hence X is asking you to come along as well
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 09:55
Subject: RE: oh dear...
"Valiantly" hey? what a big word!!!
that's what I thought- not cos she wants me to come but cos she wants you to come and be next to her, hence she is giving you the leeway to get your fren to come along so that u won't be too unhappy to have to cancel your plans with your friend.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 10:09 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
i hope that you're not being sarcastic there... i can use other big words too
well no actually, it's just her work colleagues that are coming to this one, so the extended invitation makes you special
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 10:16 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
No, not being sarcastic!!! Juz trying to lighten up the mood for myself ;p
I dun think so- that makes u special cos she's bending backwards for you so that you would put in an appearance with her!
See, her world revolves quite a bit around you...
btw, where are u guys going for dinner tonight?
Btw, I think I have to wait for a call from Dubai tonite.
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 10:31 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
oh poor miss P
stay happy now
hmmm... i think you'll find it's more than quite a bit
Table for 10 at Kobe Jones
oh good news - did they get back to you?
-----Original Message-----
20/07/2006 10:41 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
yeah, I was just playing it down and being diplomatic, Dopey!!!
I know when I see the way she looks at you- to still be so enamoured after 6 years, that's quite a big feat!!!
I might just pop up since I like to secretly indulge in the memory of the nite where we hooked up and dined and wined at Kobe Jones ;) What time is dinner?
but let me re-organise my time with the pp at Dubai...have to check the time clock!!!
The client contacted me directly!!!!
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 10:56 AM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
well you have to understand the effect i have on women
: P
i don't know what time dinner is... probably 7 - i'll find out later and let you know
well let me know for sure that you are free
well that's good, isn't it?
-----Original Message-----
Thursday, 20 July 2006 11:10
Subject: RE: oh dear...
well,well, well- someone is blowing his own horn :p
Well, in order to secretly relive that old memory of us at Kobe Jones amongst a bunch of boring auditors and having a dark private chuckle, yes I will comply and accept the invitation to dinner...;)
I have pushed my call to 12 midnight and am awaiting reply.
We'll see- anyhow, I really should be printing stuff out abt the company and have a read and so I could talk shit tonight....;)
20/07/2006 02:20 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
Think I better not go for dinner tonite.
But thank her for inviting me.
-----Original Message-----
Subject: RE: oh dear...
you've changed your mind?
well it's up to you - dinner is at 7.30pm
or is it because of your call?
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 2:57 PM
To: Subject: RE: oh dear...
Yes, I have changed my mind.
I think B and I are having dinner at La Cita on King Street Wharf.
I figured it would be too weird for all of us to put things into context.
1)Her colleagues would think who the hell is this girl and body language will tell that I am not her best friend. The farewell was intended by her colleagues to bid her farewell.
2) She probably didn't want me to come silently but she has to ask anyhow so as to not incur your wrath or discontent for disrupting your proposed meet up with a friend so it is an obligation to ask (and praying at the back of her mind that the invitee would decline).
3) As for you, you would be stuck in an obligation to entertain your fren (ie. moi) who knows no one when the attention and the star is supposedly her. She would secretly not like the diversion of attention. She would go home feeling uneasy (plus if she sees how short my dress is today,even my boss said so, and imagine that I was supposed to be meeting u tonite if not for the dinner), you guys might end up having quite a tense moment behind closed doors when u reach home cos she wouldn't know how to verbalise her displeasure/ discomfort and would find something to pick a fight with. Which is counter-productive and unnecessary for all parties.
Therefore, in order to make everyone a winner in this case, Miss P (for pre-empt and peace) has decided to extract herself from this occasion. Her thoughts for winning for herself in this case is she is granting everyone a win-win situation...;)
-----Original Message-----]
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 3:36 PM
Subject: RE: oh dear...
ok, well as long as you are at peace with your decision
hope that your dinner with your sis is good
i'm sure you look very nice today
-----Original Message-----
Sent: Thursday, 20 July 2006 3:44 PM
: RE: oh dear...
Yes, I am and for once, I think I found a perfect solution to winning ;)
Monday, July 17, 2006
Core of the Soul
The influence of alcohol does wonders for the restrained soul. It magnifies what the restrained soul attempts to hide and provides in the least, a sneak peek into the nature that nurture fails to touch.
****
On Friday, they reconvened at their usual rendezvous. P loves the plush and tastefully furnished hotel lobby bar that emanates the air of old wealth charm. The soft, dim lighting, heavy wood furniture and thick carpets combined with the lasseiz faire melody of American jazz standards played by the pianist and the double bass player lends an atmosphere that seemed to have their time suspended. Proffering a transitory respite from their mundane lives, they tried to indulge in that here- and- now- moment for what little time they could spend together. Time is a luxury for grey arrangements like themselves as they are always short on it. Always squeezing time for that one quick sneak peek, their ill timings have endlessly kept one party busy keeping watch on the ticking minutes and the seconds- sometimes it's him , precariously waiting for that one phone call where he would be summoned to be at service (to his domestics) yet again or occasionally it's she, running late to catch that bus back for the weekend with her own entourage awaiting eagerly for her return...
They would usually request to sit themselves tightly on that victorian chaise lounge for three in that quiet, semi-obscure non-smoking area. Service tends to be prompt. Perusing quickly through the extensive selection of cocktails and wines conscious of the omnipotence of reality, they would usually settle for two wines on "rush" days or cocktails and a nibbly platter on a more leisurely night where he would have informed the necessary party of that "function" he needed to attend.
****
Tonight like the last time they arrived six weeks ago, their usual seat was taken.
P and her beau seemed a little young for that place, she felt sometimes. The setting reeks of an era where charming middle-aged gentlemen in bow ties, a whisky in hand and a cigar in another would spend the evening with beautiful young lovers in beautiful fur coats, wearing luxurious strands of pearl necklaces and shimmery vintage evening clutch bags. In her fuschia tweed suit, her signature pearl necklace getup and nice pointy shoes, P and her tall and corporate yuppie- looking partner look quite the elegant pair. As always, they get served most politely and professionally.
Dope glanced across and noticed the couple, an age gap in the likes of Rupert Murdoch and his current wife. The caucasian man wore a clean white shirt and a bow tie and despite his greying hair, still retained the charming remnants of his cassanova youth and still looked quite the ladies' man. His female companion with her arms linked to his, a lover no doubt, was a sophisticatedly dressed Fillippino lady possibly a good 30 years his junior. P wondered silently if the parents of her beau might too have been postulated and scrutinised by the public in their dating days, given the similar age gap and their cross cultural romance during a more conservative 1970s era. As it appears on a Friday night, this favourite haunt of theirs would provide a social demography for illicit rendezvous often in the parlance of older professional/ moneyed white men with significantly younger professionally dressed Asian women.
"They were here the last time we came," Dope said.
"Yeah, now that you mentioned...," she slowly recalled.
So they settled in an even more obscure, dark corner and sat in two large Victorian armchairs, positioned as close to each other as possible. Quietly, she slided her fingers into his under the table and held it, allowing their joined palms to rest on her thigh. Tonight, he held her hand more assuredly and less ambivalently, perhaps due to that displayal of affection hidden from public sight.
"What's the matter?" he asked quietly and gently, alluding to that email she sent him that insisted on seeing him after work that night. That email mentioned that she wanted to feel that here-and- now feeling that she was experiencing for him there and then as she typed furiously away to him, a zillion thoughts whizzing across her head, where her fingers could barely catch pace. She wanted him to grant her spontaneity for once and to see how far he would bent backwards for her despite his domestic and social commitments for the night.
"Nothing, really. Well, I don't know. I just want to spend time with Dope," she replied as she dragged on those last words in a semi whiney tone and she placed her head against his arm. And he nodded slightly. It had been a frustrating week for her. And they chatted away about work and anything that came their way...
Again, she was conscious of his time. He had less than hour for her and would need to head for his next short meeting with a troubled mate before rushing back home for his due-to-arrive future- in-laws and her relatives' alike (darn those baby cuzzies whom she seemed so fond of playing surrogate mother to given her strong maternal and domestic instincts which P is so lacking) . She was aware that he was pushing his appointments late and between cosy moments of affections, she watched the clock.
****
"You corrupt me," he started with a quiet slight smile, the alcohol from work and the current finishing glass had slowly loosened him up.
"No, I don't. You are very capable of doing what you could do. It's in the core of your soul. I am merely the Devil's Advocate." She eyed him askance in that flirty half-smile. Her hand had slowly found its way to stray while still holding his, the back of it had rested between his legs, her loosening fingers lightly stroking him.
And then he continued. "You know what? I am really enjoying where your hand is at the moment and am getting quite an erection. It's sad." he said half amusingly and perhaps part ironically.
"Well, you always like the way I touch you," she smiled coyly and leaned over and kissed his cheek whilst continuing to run her finger along his bulge. He had only mentioned that to her once in those rare, behind- the- door golden moments. Then she held his hand up and brought the back of it to her lips.
"Why didn't you look my way back then, C?" she spoke his name, the abandonment of addressing in pet name often warranting a serious undertone. She was still leaning on him.
"Maybe our lives would have been somewhat different," she continued. A lot different for her, really, her sad soul echoed.
"But I was a different person and perhaps you wouldn't really like me. Just like all my ex-girlfriends, we might stop talking altogether." he said.
"Maybe..." her voice trailed away as she smiled weakly, her eyes a little glazed and semi-lost in thoughts.
Then he held her hand tight and hid it in the pocket of his coat and placed it on his throbbing member and gave a cheeky smile. Quite a big leap of faith for Dope, a gentleman of great restraint and a serious disposition. Just like that magical day of spontaneity and spring where they met in this big city again two months before they hooked up. On that night, he told her how he remembered her by two things. The first day he met her (many, many moons ago) and that incident at the bay when they were young and basking in that positiveness of youth... Then he took the first step of recklessness to kiss her...
But as guys she fancy do, they get rational too fast too soon...
Organically, that gesture warmed her up and made her day. Like her best friend, Dope takes some time to open up as she lightly tickles this dormant volcanoe to awakeness. Bit by bit, she manages to wade her way through the shrouds of his elusiveness surrounding his aura and learns to understand his soul a little better.
"Isn't it time to go? We better get going," she offered, determined not to be lost in the light-headedness of self-congratulatory joy. Taking steps to sever that umbilical cord of momentary elation, she struggled to switch to practical mode.
"No, let's stay for another wine. For another 15 minutes. My friend hasn't called yet anyway," he placed his hand on her arm as she got up to put on her coat.
"Are you sure?"
"Would you like me to call him?" It was always that way. He never ever let slip that he wants to see her. It would usually expressed in the form of a question that leaves the onus of decision-making on her. Like would you like me to come? While P always starts with "Let's do this or that..." Even his lapses into these desires are rare. He had began to motion to the waiter for two more glasses of wine.
"Yes!" she perked up and like an inexperienced warrior, she opened her empty palm and made known her intentions with no sword or armour to shield herself from hurt. Then she hugged him and kissed his cheek again.
"Goody. Dope is wanting to spend more time with P, finally!" She slipped back into the third- person narration to part redeem herself.
And they lingered until he could no longer hold off his social responsibility for that mate who had been kept waiting for a good two hours.
She felt that vibe of that restrained soul unpeeling slowly yet another layer of his skin to proffer her with an exclusive view. What her practical-minded best friend would deem as instubstantial. But precisely it is that found in those split-second snap shot moments of joint experiences between lovers and herself unfolding in the form of slight gestures- ranging from the squeeze of one's hand, the sigh in one's tone and that look in one's eye- are what made P believe life is perhaps worth living on the edge. The imperfection marred and characterised by human fallacies and that dash of recklessness committed in those carpe diem actions that perfects "living"...
*****
As they parted at the train station, she walked in her semi-tipsy state, that warm and fuzzy feeling enlightening her entire being. It was only 7.30pm. The bumpy train ride, despite triggering bouts of nausea and embarrassment by creating havoc in her empty stomach and causing ill convenience to fellow commuters, did nothing to dispel that wave of certainty she felt from him and the kaleidoscope of emotions she experienced so surely tonight.
Staggering up the stairs to her bedroom, her eyes a tad glassy, P stripped herself off her clothes and flopped limply onto her bed. She closed her eyes and was transported into a snug and blissful slumber...
The influence of alcohol does wonders for the restrained soul. It magnifies what the restrained soul attempts to hide and provides in the least, a sneak peek into the nature that nurture fails to touch.
****
On Friday, they reconvened at their usual rendezvous. P loves the plush and tastefully furnished hotel lobby bar that emanates the air of old wealth charm. The soft, dim lighting, heavy wood furniture and thick carpets combined with the lasseiz faire melody of American jazz standards played by the pianist and the double bass player lends an atmosphere that seemed to have their time suspended. Proffering a transitory respite from their mundane lives, they tried to indulge in that here- and- now- moment for what little time they could spend together. Time is a luxury for grey arrangements like themselves as they are always short on it. Always squeezing time for that one quick sneak peek, their ill timings have endlessly kept one party busy keeping watch on the ticking minutes and the seconds- sometimes it's him , precariously waiting for that one phone call where he would be summoned to be at service (to his domestics) yet again or occasionally it's she, running late to catch that bus back for the weekend with her own entourage awaiting eagerly for her return...
They would usually request to sit themselves tightly on that victorian chaise lounge for three in that quiet, semi-obscure non-smoking area. Service tends to be prompt. Perusing quickly through the extensive selection of cocktails and wines conscious of the omnipotence of reality, they would usually settle for two wines on "rush" days or cocktails and a nibbly platter on a more leisurely night where he would have informed the necessary party of that "function" he needed to attend.
****
Tonight like the last time they arrived six weeks ago, their usual seat was taken.
P and her beau seemed a little young for that place, she felt sometimes. The setting reeks of an era where charming middle-aged gentlemen in bow ties, a whisky in hand and a cigar in another would spend the evening with beautiful young lovers in beautiful fur coats, wearing luxurious strands of pearl necklaces and shimmery vintage evening clutch bags. In her fuschia tweed suit, her signature pearl necklace getup and nice pointy shoes, P and her tall and corporate yuppie- looking partner look quite the elegant pair. As always, they get served most politely and professionally.
Dope glanced across and noticed the couple, an age gap in the likes of Rupert Murdoch and his current wife. The caucasian man wore a clean white shirt and a bow tie and despite his greying hair, still retained the charming remnants of his cassanova youth and still looked quite the ladies' man. His female companion with her arms linked to his, a lover no doubt, was a sophisticatedly dressed Fillippino lady possibly a good 30 years his junior. P wondered silently if the parents of her beau might too have been postulated and scrutinised by the public in their dating days, given the similar age gap and their cross cultural romance during a more conservative 1970s era. As it appears on a Friday night, this favourite haunt of theirs would provide a social demography for illicit rendezvous often in the parlance of older professional/ moneyed white men with significantly younger professionally dressed Asian women.
"They were here the last time we came," Dope said.
"Yeah, now that you mentioned...," she slowly recalled.
So they settled in an even more obscure, dark corner and sat in two large Victorian armchairs, positioned as close to each other as possible. Quietly, she slided her fingers into his under the table and held it, allowing their joined palms to rest on her thigh. Tonight, he held her hand more assuredly and less ambivalently, perhaps due to that displayal of affection hidden from public sight.
"What's the matter?" he asked quietly and gently, alluding to that email she sent him that insisted on seeing him after work that night. That email mentioned that she wanted to feel that here-and- now feeling that she was experiencing for him there and then as she typed furiously away to him, a zillion thoughts whizzing across her head, where her fingers could barely catch pace. She wanted him to grant her spontaneity for once and to see how far he would bent backwards for her despite his domestic and social commitments for the night.
"Nothing, really. Well, I don't know. I just want to spend time with Dope," she replied as she dragged on those last words in a semi whiney tone and she placed her head against his arm. And he nodded slightly. It had been a frustrating week for her. And they chatted away about work and anything that came their way...
Again, she was conscious of his time. He had less than hour for her and would need to head for his next short meeting with a troubled mate before rushing back home for his due-to-arrive future- in-laws and her relatives' alike (darn those baby cuzzies whom she seemed so fond of playing surrogate mother to given her strong maternal and domestic instincts which P is so lacking) . She was aware that he was pushing his appointments late and between cosy moments of affections, she watched the clock.
****
"You corrupt me," he started with a quiet slight smile, the alcohol from work and the current finishing glass had slowly loosened him up.
"No, I don't. You are very capable of doing what you could do. It's in the core of your soul. I am merely the Devil's Advocate." She eyed him askance in that flirty half-smile. Her hand had slowly found its way to stray while still holding his, the back of it had rested between his legs, her loosening fingers lightly stroking him.
And then he continued. "You know what? I am really enjoying where your hand is at the moment and am getting quite an erection. It's sad." he said half amusingly and perhaps part ironically.
"Well, you always like the way I touch you," she smiled coyly and leaned over and kissed his cheek whilst continuing to run her finger along his bulge. He had only mentioned that to her once in those rare, behind- the- door golden moments. Then she held his hand up and brought the back of it to her lips.
"Why didn't you look my way back then, C?" she spoke his name, the abandonment of addressing in pet name often warranting a serious undertone. She was still leaning on him.
"Maybe our lives would have been somewhat different," she continued. A lot different for her, really, her sad soul echoed.
"But I was a different person and perhaps you wouldn't really like me. Just like all my ex-girlfriends, we might stop talking altogether." he said.
"Maybe..." her voice trailed away as she smiled weakly, her eyes a little glazed and semi-lost in thoughts.
Then he held her hand tight and hid it in the pocket of his coat and placed it on his throbbing member and gave a cheeky smile. Quite a big leap of faith for Dope, a gentleman of great restraint and a serious disposition. Just like that magical day of spontaneity and spring where they met in this big city again two months before they hooked up. On that night, he told her how he remembered her by two things. The first day he met her (many, many moons ago) and that incident at the bay when they were young and basking in that positiveness of youth... Then he took the first step of recklessness to kiss her...
But as guys she fancy do, they get rational too fast too soon...
Organically, that gesture warmed her up and made her day. Like her best friend, Dope takes some time to open up as she lightly tickles this dormant volcanoe to awakeness. Bit by bit, she manages to wade her way through the shrouds of his elusiveness surrounding his aura and learns to understand his soul a little better.
"Isn't it time to go? We better get going," she offered, determined not to be lost in the light-headedness of self-congratulatory joy. Taking steps to sever that umbilical cord of momentary elation, she struggled to switch to practical mode.
"No, let's stay for another wine. For another 15 minutes. My friend hasn't called yet anyway," he placed his hand on her arm as she got up to put on her coat.
"Are you sure?"
"Would you like me to call him?" It was always that way. He never ever let slip that he wants to see her. It would usually expressed in the form of a question that leaves the onus of decision-making on her. Like would you like me to come? While P always starts with "Let's do this or that..." Even his lapses into these desires are rare. He had began to motion to the waiter for two more glasses of wine.
"Yes!" she perked up and like an inexperienced warrior, she opened her empty palm and made known her intentions with no sword or armour to shield herself from hurt. Then she hugged him and kissed his cheek again.
"Goody. Dope is wanting to spend more time with P, finally!" She slipped back into the third- person narration to part redeem herself.
And they lingered until he could no longer hold off his social responsibility for that mate who had been kept waiting for a good two hours.
She felt that vibe of that restrained soul unpeeling slowly yet another layer of his skin to proffer her with an exclusive view. What her practical-minded best friend would deem as instubstantial. But precisely it is that found in those split-second snap shot moments of joint experiences between lovers and herself unfolding in the form of slight gestures- ranging from the squeeze of one's hand, the sigh in one's tone and that look in one's eye- are what made P believe life is perhaps worth living on the edge. The imperfection marred and characterised by human fallacies and that dash of recklessness committed in those carpe diem actions that perfects "living"...
*****
As they parted at the train station, she walked in her semi-tipsy state, that warm and fuzzy feeling enlightening her entire being. It was only 7.30pm. The bumpy train ride, despite triggering bouts of nausea and embarrassment by creating havoc in her empty stomach and causing ill convenience to fellow commuters, did nothing to dispel that wave of certainty she felt from him and the kaleidoscope of emotions she experienced so surely tonight.
Staggering up the stairs to her bedroom, her eyes a tad glassy, P stripped herself off her clothes and flopped limply onto her bed. She closed her eyes and was transported into a snug and blissful slumber...
Labels: THE P-oignant Moments
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Streetkind
Today, she finally did it!
P had noticed Brian, a tramp in his 50s for the past year or so since she arrived in this city looking for a job. As most tramps in a big city do, they write about their sorry plights on cardboards, appealing to the empathy and pennies of the people. As she gets herded to move onwards in the crowd for the nth time, P mused quietly that some things never change. A year and a bit on, having been in her third job, she still sees the same tramps that she saw one and a half year ago. Then, she travelled inter-state religiously for a good twelve weeks and attended countless of interviews before she settled for that first job. Her dogged determination and motivation were placed on that big dollar sign. She pushed and promised herself that she would lead her own life and live on her own terms from hereon and that is one thing that she could have control over amidst a life of variables and uncertainties. She sadly wished that these people could get off the streets as even she, has moved on... (she figured her position must have improved by a little more $20,000 than she did so the year before and she makes it a point that she would get more)...
A year ago, Brian would leave his box for spare change scribbled with "God Bless" and a picture of Jesus Christ stuck below on the flap positioned next to him as he sat by the streets faithfully to pray for a get on with his life. He was usually found reading the bible. And indeed, a few months ago, a small miracle did happen to him, she observed. He managed to set himself up with a neat collection of shoe polish, shoe shine, a box of rags, an old foldable metal chair and a wooden sloping feet rest and there, he began his nomadic mini shoe shining business that basically sums up his personal belongings. Well, at least one tramp did get on well enough to part eliminate begging as his main source of livelihood... Maybe good things do happen to good people. So for that small positive inspiration that Brian served, unbeknownst to him, he has become her favourite tramp.
For months, P has wanted her shoes to be polished by Brian, particularly that tatty brown pair of pointy stiletto heels that she leaves at work. It seems a case of bad timing each time as she suffered the same malady of bad dress sense typical of the big city professional crowd. That is, the get up of wearing a corporate suit, her strand of pearls around her neck, ladies' handbag in arm, gym gear backpacked and donning matching (not!) sneakers. And thus, when every pay day arrives as she walks pass Brian, P would look down at her sneakers and would quietly admonish herself for forgetting to extend her "largesse" to him, like a debtor with a nagging guilt for that outstanding bill that needs to be paid...
Today, P did it! Quite spontaneously.
As she shopped mindlessly amongst the crowd, she saw Brian again. He had business today quite fortunately. A man wanted his weekend shoes to be polished. Good on him, she thought. As she looked down at her feet, P noticed that she had her black boots on and they too, looked a tad shabby and needed some brightening up. So she decided that today must be the day and since pay day had just arrived the day before, timing could not be better.Brian was really pleased to have his second customer of the day. P asked how his day was getting on as she noticed the poor man before sitting out in that open wintry cold with that large camel Qantas blanket wrapped around himself. He replied good in a soft, gentle way and they chatted for a bit.
From that short conversation, P realised that Brian probably eats only one meal a day, has no family (as his parents died in a car accident when he was twelve, leaving him and his older brother who shot himself a few years ago),he got a nervous breakdown from that resulted personal tragedy and took to the streets. Now he is trying to pick himself up again but given that he could barely make $15 a day, he does not have enough to pay for that $18 per night temporary shelter. But he told her in an assuring tone that he is a Christian who believes in God and would not stop trying to pick himself up.
P was at a loss for words- partly, because she was sad if the story-of-his-life was true and partly, that practical mind of hers (having been beguiled for her kindness a few times) was careful to shield herself from his possible attempt at coaxing a few more pennies out of her. But in her mind, she knew that she was relenting and her benchmark of paying $5.00 for his service today saw itself doubling to $10.00. She always postulated that Brian must have done time in prison and had as a result, become society's outcast and hence the reason why he took to the streets...
So there you go- P being a sucker for stories as such, figured she could do with one less meal and handed her $10 over eagerly when that man finished polishing her boots. She figured, whatever. At least, she finally did it and Brian could do anything with the money-get more food and booze to keep himself warm on the streets or just about anything that could possibly make him happy. Everyone is entitled to some form of indulgence. Well, at least she did make his day. Blue $10 notes are hard to come by for a 3 min service. She stood up to leave and thanked him, a slight smile on her face, like she had finally made peace with herself and got one debt paid out of her mental checklist. Then she continued moving onwards to that different world where the luxury of choice and desires abound- her mind drifting back to that Marc Jacobs leather handbag that she was eyeing in the window as she continued deliberating how to close her next wishlist purchase, having paid off fully more than a thousand dollars on her credit card two hours earlier in cash and wondering where to dig for yet another few $1000 notes to repay another...
In the world that she operates in, retail therapy seems the fastest quick-fix way to feed her empty soul like one who gets high and happy on drugs, only to awake the next day with a nasty after-effect... And that, she loathes. But like an addict, she abides to that trap. How enviable is Brian - he, being that wandering soul whose only worry stems from that age old need of scavenging for the basic necessities but his soul is fully nourished by his complete devotion to that Provider named God... and today, P paid her faith in Brian who, too alleviated her soul....
So it seems- the grass is always greener on the other side...
Today, she finally did it!
P had noticed Brian, a tramp in his 50s for the past year or so since she arrived in this city looking for a job. As most tramps in a big city do, they write about their sorry plights on cardboards, appealing to the empathy and pennies of the people. As she gets herded to move onwards in the crowd for the nth time, P mused quietly that some things never change. A year and a bit on, having been in her third job, she still sees the same tramps that she saw one and a half year ago. Then, she travelled inter-state religiously for a good twelve weeks and attended countless of interviews before she settled for that first job. Her dogged determination and motivation were placed on that big dollar sign. She pushed and promised herself that she would lead her own life and live on her own terms from hereon and that is one thing that she could have control over amidst a life of variables and uncertainties. She sadly wished that these people could get off the streets as even she, has moved on... (she figured her position must have improved by a little more $20,000 than she did so the year before and she makes it a point that she would get more)...
A year ago, Brian would leave his box for spare change scribbled with "God Bless" and a picture of Jesus Christ stuck below on the flap positioned next to him as he sat by the streets faithfully to pray for a get on with his life. He was usually found reading the bible. And indeed, a few months ago, a small miracle did happen to him, she observed. He managed to set himself up with a neat collection of shoe polish, shoe shine, a box of rags, an old foldable metal chair and a wooden sloping feet rest and there, he began his nomadic mini shoe shining business that basically sums up his personal belongings. Well, at least one tramp did get on well enough to part eliminate begging as his main source of livelihood... Maybe good things do happen to good people. So for that small positive inspiration that Brian served, unbeknownst to him, he has become her favourite tramp.
For months, P has wanted her shoes to be polished by Brian, particularly that tatty brown pair of pointy stiletto heels that she leaves at work. It seems a case of bad timing each time as she suffered the same malady of bad dress sense typical of the big city professional crowd. That is, the get up of wearing a corporate suit, her strand of pearls around her neck, ladies' handbag in arm, gym gear backpacked and donning matching (not!) sneakers. And thus, when every pay day arrives as she walks pass Brian, P would look down at her sneakers and would quietly admonish herself for forgetting to extend her "largesse" to him, like a debtor with a nagging guilt for that outstanding bill that needs to be paid...
Today, P did it! Quite spontaneously.
As she shopped mindlessly amongst the crowd, she saw Brian again. He had business today quite fortunately. A man wanted his weekend shoes to be polished. Good on him, she thought. As she looked down at her feet, P noticed that she had her black boots on and they too, looked a tad shabby and needed some brightening up. So she decided that today must be the day and since pay day had just arrived the day before, timing could not be better.Brian was really pleased to have his second customer of the day. P asked how his day was getting on as she noticed the poor man before sitting out in that open wintry cold with that large camel Qantas blanket wrapped around himself. He replied good in a soft, gentle way and they chatted for a bit.
From that short conversation, P realised that Brian probably eats only one meal a day, has no family (as his parents died in a car accident when he was twelve, leaving him and his older brother who shot himself a few years ago),he got a nervous breakdown from that resulted personal tragedy and took to the streets. Now he is trying to pick himself up again but given that he could barely make $15 a day, he does not have enough to pay for that $18 per night temporary shelter. But he told her in an assuring tone that he is a Christian who believes in God and would not stop trying to pick himself up.
P was at a loss for words- partly, because she was sad if the story-of-his-life was true and partly, that practical mind of hers (having been beguiled for her kindness a few times) was careful to shield herself from his possible attempt at coaxing a few more pennies out of her. But in her mind, she knew that she was relenting and her benchmark of paying $5.00 for his service today saw itself doubling to $10.00. She always postulated that Brian must have done time in prison and had as a result, become society's outcast and hence the reason why he took to the streets...
So there you go- P being a sucker for stories as such, figured she could do with one less meal and handed her $10 over eagerly when that man finished polishing her boots. She figured, whatever. At least, she finally did it and Brian could do anything with the money-get more food and booze to keep himself warm on the streets or just about anything that could possibly make him happy. Everyone is entitled to some form of indulgence. Well, at least she did make his day. Blue $10 notes are hard to come by for a 3 min service. She stood up to leave and thanked him, a slight smile on her face, like she had finally made peace with herself and got one debt paid out of her mental checklist. Then she continued moving onwards to that different world where the luxury of choice and desires abound- her mind drifting back to that Marc Jacobs leather handbag that she was eyeing in the window as she continued deliberating how to close her next wishlist purchase, having paid off fully more than a thousand dollars on her credit card two hours earlier in cash and wondering where to dig for yet another few $1000 notes to repay another...
In the world that she operates in, retail therapy seems the fastest quick-fix way to feed her empty soul like one who gets high and happy on drugs, only to awake the next day with a nasty after-effect... And that, she loathes. But like an addict, she abides to that trap. How enviable is Brian - he, being that wandering soul whose only worry stems from that age old need of scavenging for the basic necessities but his soul is fully nourished by his complete devotion to that Provider named God... and today, P paid her faith in Brian who, too alleviated her soul....
So it seems- the grass is always greener on the other side...
Friday, July 07, 2006
Life’s Adventure of Misadventures
As a sequel to Nice Thoughts and today being a Friday, P is basking in positive thoughts (“It can only get better from hereon,” she used to say to the mail boy when Wednesday arrived, a twinkle in her eye). She could do with a glass of wine any moment now.
Having had her research assignment process curtailed this morning at the client's request (which often correlates directly to her short-term stress levels and the fees charged), P’s workload has halved and she has the mini luxury of sitting at her desk with a semi-switched off mind. Quietly, she alternates her commitments to working on boring things, surfing the Internet for inspirations and blogging.
Really, P is having a bit of wanderlust. It’s the time of the year again where she needs to re-charge and re-invigorate her soul with new ideas and new adventures. She pictured her faraway friends possibly in a buying and sewing frenzy in preparation for launching the summer collections and shows while her poor self (and her even poorly self given her stubborn cold that would not go away without a long and tireless fight) continues to plough through the day at her desk.
With an insatiable energy within her that is bursting to be released, but having the cold barred her away from the gym, the wintry cold forbidding her poorly self for a long brisk walk, her lack of time to sketch and embark on the warpath of fashion creation and deconstruction, a lack of mental stimulation from clever wordplay and the failure of a budget blow-out shopping rampage to dispel her restlessness, P is quite ready to jump off the ledge. Itchy feet she has, and before she is stupid enough to self-destroy, P reckoned she should board a plane and take off to a faraway land to be herself once again and embark on another journey of adventures of rather, misadventures…
As part of her current restructuring plans before she reaches the age where one should settle down and settle really, she reckoned she needed to make up for lost time and embark on a personal journey alone. But of course, taking on accomplices for mini adventures as she skips along. After all, what fun is there if no one is to share those funny, silly, even reckless moments together? And really, to bear witness to those dirty little deeds and allow their joint experiences to connect them in the annals of their personal histories, making that their little secret. And in years to come, it would well be the reason that brings up that private, sheepish, guilty smiles on their faces as they possibly cross paths again amongst company. Sshh… Her mischievous self would suggest with a wink.
Hmm, life seems a series of irony. And if so why is it called an irony instead of a norm then? Like when life is “welded” by partings and endings, too many coincidences possibly could result in the belief of fate, life’s one big adventure is mostly likely coloured by a series of misadventures…?
So as she plans the destination of her next adventure or is it misadventure (even she’s losing the plot), she wonders what fate/ or coincidence would have installed for her and who and how her next partner-in-crime and partner-in-joint history would be…
Any ideas anyone? ;)
As a sequel to Nice Thoughts and today being a Friday, P is basking in positive thoughts (“It can only get better from hereon,” she used to say to the mail boy when Wednesday arrived, a twinkle in her eye). She could do with a glass of wine any moment now.
Having had her research assignment process curtailed this morning at the client's request (which often correlates directly to her short-term stress levels and the fees charged), P’s workload has halved and she has the mini luxury of sitting at her desk with a semi-switched off mind. Quietly, she alternates her commitments to working on boring things, surfing the Internet for inspirations and blogging.
Really, P is having a bit of wanderlust. It’s the time of the year again where she needs to re-charge and re-invigorate her soul with new ideas and new adventures. She pictured her faraway friends possibly in a buying and sewing frenzy in preparation for launching the summer collections and shows while her poor self (and her even poorly self given her stubborn cold that would not go away without a long and tireless fight) continues to plough through the day at her desk.
With an insatiable energy within her that is bursting to be released, but having the cold barred her away from the gym, the wintry cold forbidding her poorly self for a long brisk walk, her lack of time to sketch and embark on the warpath of fashion creation and deconstruction, a lack of mental stimulation from clever wordplay and the failure of a budget blow-out shopping rampage to dispel her restlessness, P is quite ready to jump off the ledge. Itchy feet she has, and before she is stupid enough to self-destroy, P reckoned she should board a plane and take off to a faraway land to be herself once again and embark on another journey of adventures of rather, misadventures…
As part of her current restructuring plans before she reaches the age where one should settle down and settle really, she reckoned she needed to make up for lost time and embark on a personal journey alone. But of course, taking on accomplices for mini adventures as she skips along. After all, what fun is there if no one is to share those funny, silly, even reckless moments together? And really, to bear witness to those dirty little deeds and allow their joint experiences to connect them in the annals of their personal histories, making that their little secret. And in years to come, it would well be the reason that brings up that private, sheepish, guilty smiles on their faces as they possibly cross paths again amongst company. Sshh… Her mischievous self would suggest with a wink.
Hmm, life seems a series of irony. And if so why is it called an irony instead of a norm then? Like when life is “welded” by partings and endings, too many coincidences possibly could result in the belief of fate, life’s one big adventure is mostly likely coloured by a series of misadventures…?
So as she plans the destination of her next adventure or is it misadventure (even she’s losing the plot), she wonders what fate/ or coincidence would have installed for her and who and how her next partner-in-crime and partner-in-joint history would be…
Any ideas anyone? ;)
Monday, July 03, 2006
Nice Thoughts
If one were to shade some light to one's life story, how would one aptly capture it?
P reckons she has some ideas to proffer for her own. Snap shots of all those funny, bitter sweet moments in her short twentyish years of precocious living preciously stored in her memory bank that never fails to induce a slight, crooked smile on her face.
In no order of importance (as they are all truly unique and brings her varying degrees of delight and satisfaction from recklessness and spontaneity) and chronology, they are:
- pulling the car by the roadside and making out with DL till the cows come home, topless, police car passing by, a rainbow beaming before them and the radio aptly playing "Just the way you are" (favourite song of hers back then)...
-Late bloomers of petty crime: partner-in-crime with her best friend to steal an umbrella cover just to alleviate her undue stress in the case of "The lost umbrella"...and having the best laugh after...
- extended karaoke sessions with her best friend, learning and being addicted to singing Chinese pop music (a genre previously unexplored) and inevitably being a flasher caught on security camera with her overly well-at-ease demeanour within the private room that also served as their weekend nap hangout when they have exhausted their vocal cords and satiated their gluttony with salt and pepper chicken wings...
- the mind blowingly awesome sex with "Funny Boy" in that Parisan apartment on Marx Dormay...
- the cum-too-quickly "after-look" of embarrassment and the profuse apology suffered by W, which she waved and laughed off kindly and dismissively...
-DL's blushy episode of "Bottom exposed" to passing cruise boat by the lake while he pumped her away in the car, much to their utmost hilliarity...
- making love with M dreamily on the bed that she grew up sleeping and daydreaming in and being able to say those words he once said to her with him as they got together once more and picked up from where they left off in Paris...
-seeing M again and having spent time together in 2004, 2005, 2006 as they marvelled quietly... and him telepathically picking out that same favourite picture of them together as her...
- lying next to M on the old king-sized bed (where she was possibly made) in her guest room and admitting for the first time that "I love M" (and using the first person narration; quite a leap of faith no doubt), tears streaming, guard being led down, and to be reciprocated and confessed later that he did too when they strolled amongst the crowd outside the Bugis temple...
- sitting stark naked and having girlish chats with her best friend in the bathroom as they take turns to shower...
- daring her icy cool best friend to try her hand at picking up at the bar...
-being there for her best girl friends during moments of their downtimes...
-the rare moments where the "sexless" Dope loosened up at their usual rendezvous hangout and takes the initiative to hold her hand and squeeze it tight, and she would understand that it was his way of saying that he cared...
- bawling her eyes out with her best guy buddy as they strolled along the Seine River and she kissing her past goodbye in their semi-tipsy state... and then resuming her mischievous demeanour as she fished salacious fantasies out of him over fatty fries in a 24-hour fast food joint...
- long, late nite intellectual debates with her best friends at kopi tiams over her favourite glass of iced ribena...
-her nights in Havana, strolling hand in hand with J along the malecon, sharing an ice-cream at Bim Bom, the odd stares the locals gave them and the romance in the air...
- the time where V and her failed attempt to hitch hike a car back into Havana from Veradero (having enough of sun baking, massaging and dipping in the Carribean seas) and how they were ordered to look "Cuban"(one blond and another fair Asian) after bribing the local bus with USD to take them back and being stuck in the filthy, stinky toilet at the back of the bus... and all the time, the girls tried to stifle their amusements despite the reckless implications of their actions on the locals..
- being all light-headed and whimsical where her then "power to love" state of mind got her through and out of Cuba in one piece- having lost her wallet on her last night, and stupidly spent what was left of her cash on art, souveneirs, rum and an entire range of Cuban music instruments (only to have the drum being fined and quarantined at the Sydney airport) and forgetting that one needs to pay departure tax. But finally making it to Toronto in one piece and spent the night sleeping at the airport next to a Cuban priest and the prodigal daughter attempting to make contact with parents and still meaning to sound vague on where she lost her wallet and credit cards...
- the excessive Parisan life that she led- those memorable joint sharing and wine drinking sessions with the girls and the Chilean boys in her bohemic apartment and the 2 unforgettable le marais hangouts...
- how she thought she must've met a ghost-her male companion in New York who mysteriously disappeared and was not to be found or named in the guest list at the reception- only to bump into him in Canberra 2 years on...
- her happy days of sweet 16/17 with trophy boyfriend who had introduced her to the pleasure of giving ;)...
- her mindless and budget worry free days of shopping with her happy- days- clique- of- friends where she was touted as Alicia Silverstone in "Clueless"...
- her religious weekly Wednesday date with Mambo nights with her ex-best friend (whom they were said to resemble twins on several occasions) and the subsequent Friday nights at Velvet Underground and the countless pick ups that made them laugh or cringe...
- the number of propositions she attempted to fend off in New York and Toronto and how she spent a memorable evening dancing with the 3 men in that record store in Kensington, playing to the tune of Billie Holiday from vinyl records spinning on the turntable and discussing about the jazz genre, and then skillfuly wiggled her way out of a precarious situation with hot blooded intentions on the rise...
- that Indian art-dealer who failed to bait her to bed in New York parted graciously from her and instead, gave her an antique coin as a parting gift...
- and of course, every single moment she gets to spend with the Love of her Life- the fluffly white creature that never fails to melt her heart...
the list goes on...
On this note, P reckons that life can be rather beautiful and shall she say, lyrical...
If one were to shade some light to one's life story, how would one aptly capture it?
P reckons she has some ideas to proffer for her own. Snap shots of all those funny, bitter sweet moments in her short twentyish years of precocious living preciously stored in her memory bank that never fails to induce a slight, crooked smile on her face.
In no order of importance (as they are all truly unique and brings her varying degrees of delight and satisfaction from recklessness and spontaneity) and chronology, they are:
- pulling the car by the roadside and making out with DL till the cows come home, topless, police car passing by, a rainbow beaming before them and the radio aptly playing "Just the way you are" (favourite song of hers back then)...
-Late bloomers of petty crime: partner-in-crime with her best friend to steal an umbrella cover just to alleviate her undue stress in the case of "The lost umbrella"...and having the best laugh after...
- extended karaoke sessions with her best friend, learning and being addicted to singing Chinese pop music (a genre previously unexplored) and inevitably being a flasher caught on security camera with her overly well-at-ease demeanour within the private room that also served as their weekend nap hangout when they have exhausted their vocal cords and satiated their gluttony with salt and pepper chicken wings...
- the mind blowingly awesome sex with "Funny Boy" in that Parisan apartment on Marx Dormay...
- the cum-too-quickly "after-look" of embarrassment and the profuse apology suffered by W, which she waved and laughed off kindly and dismissively...
-DL's blushy episode of "Bottom exposed" to passing cruise boat by the lake while he pumped her away in the car, much to their utmost hilliarity...
- making love with M dreamily on the bed that she grew up sleeping and daydreaming in and being able to say those words he once said to her with him as they got together once more and picked up from where they left off in Paris...
-seeing M again and having spent time together in 2004, 2005, 2006 as they marvelled quietly... and him telepathically picking out that same favourite picture of them together as her...
- lying next to M on the old king-sized bed (where she was possibly made) in her guest room and admitting for the first time that "I love M" (and using the first person narration; quite a leap of faith no doubt), tears streaming, guard being led down, and to be reciprocated and confessed later that he did too when they strolled amongst the crowd outside the Bugis temple...
- sitting stark naked and having girlish chats with her best friend in the bathroom as they take turns to shower...
- daring her icy cool best friend to try her hand at picking up at the bar...
-being there for her best girl friends during moments of their downtimes...
-the rare moments where the "sexless" Dope loosened up at their usual rendezvous hangout and takes the initiative to hold her hand and squeeze it tight, and she would understand that it was his way of saying that he cared...
- bawling her eyes out with her best guy buddy as they strolled along the Seine River and she kissing her past goodbye in their semi-tipsy state... and then resuming her mischievous demeanour as she fished salacious fantasies out of him over fatty fries in a 24-hour fast food joint...
- long, late nite intellectual debates with her best friends at kopi tiams over her favourite glass of iced ribena...
-her nights in Havana, strolling hand in hand with J along the malecon, sharing an ice-cream at Bim Bom, the odd stares the locals gave them and the romance in the air...
- the time where V and her failed attempt to hitch hike a car back into Havana from Veradero (having enough of sun baking, massaging and dipping in the Carribean seas) and how they were ordered to look "Cuban"(one blond and another fair Asian) after bribing the local bus with USD to take them back and being stuck in the filthy, stinky toilet at the back of the bus... and all the time, the girls tried to stifle their amusements despite the reckless implications of their actions on the locals..
- being all light-headed and whimsical where her then "power to love" state of mind got her through and out of Cuba in one piece- having lost her wallet on her last night, and stupidly spent what was left of her cash on art, souveneirs, rum and an entire range of Cuban music instruments (only to have the drum being fined and quarantined at the Sydney airport) and forgetting that one needs to pay departure tax. But finally making it to Toronto in one piece and spent the night sleeping at the airport next to a Cuban priest and the prodigal daughter attempting to make contact with parents and still meaning to sound vague on where she lost her wallet and credit cards...
- the excessive Parisan life that she led- those memorable joint sharing and wine drinking sessions with the girls and the Chilean boys in her bohemic apartment and the 2 unforgettable le marais hangouts...
- how she thought she must've met a ghost-her male companion in New York who mysteriously disappeared and was not to be found or named in the guest list at the reception- only to bump into him in Canberra 2 years on...
- her happy days of sweet 16/17 with trophy boyfriend who had introduced her to the pleasure of giving ;)...
- her mindless and budget worry free days of shopping with her happy- days- clique- of- friends where she was touted as Alicia Silverstone in "Clueless"...
- her religious weekly Wednesday date with Mambo nights with her ex-best friend (whom they were said to resemble twins on several occasions) and the subsequent Friday nights at Velvet Underground and the countless pick ups that made them laugh or cringe...
- the number of propositions she attempted to fend off in New York and Toronto and how she spent a memorable evening dancing with the 3 men in that record store in Kensington, playing to the tune of Billie Holiday from vinyl records spinning on the turntable and discussing about the jazz genre, and then skillfuly wiggled her way out of a precarious situation with hot blooded intentions on the rise...
- that Indian art-dealer who failed to bait her to bed in New York parted graciously from her and instead, gave her an antique coin as a parting gift...
- and of course, every single moment she gets to spend with the Love of her Life- the fluffly white creature that never fails to melt her heart...
the list goes on...
On this note, P reckons that life can be rather beautiful and shall she say, lyrical...
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Down Memory Lane: Of Lovers and Broken Dreams
"28/10/04
..."I remember waking up on a Saturday morning and saw the sky and knew it was going to be a beautiful day ("bueno dias", he told me) cos' it was indeed a clear sunny day with blue skies and plus waking up in the arms of someone so georgeous and tender, that was like a dream come true. I touched his face, his little stubby stubs, his eyebrows and his hair. He seemed unreal and I gazed into his beautiful eyes. That feeling was undescribably good. Simply beautiful and filled with tenderness. Lust was part of the deal but not the whole deal. There was a certain beauty to the whole experience. Something to remember for a lifetime. It certainly wasn't love but it was a beautiful feeling. There was so much beauty, I can't even quite descibe it. He was tender and the times where he hugged me so tight (oh, it's been ages since DL did that) like he was in love with me. At that instant, I just wanted to believe just for the hell of it, for just that moment. But my practical mind struggled to say no lest I get hurt. He's after all a young boy with many younger girls to chase and go out with...
Ah well, guess that's that for the night. But again I think I need to sleep on a beautiful dream as tomorrow morning's gonna be a hard and gruelling time for me with regards to Em. So M, it'll still be, that dream (alas, a beautiful one) to sleep on for the night... not unless someone better comes along. But how am I to know? I can't bear to add on to the numbers. I kindda wish to stop and settle for M for the rest of my time in Paris. My "m" is all I need for now. I think..."
"21/11/04
...When it was about 6a.m, we all decided to take off- Me, M, O,T and Sy. I was first to be out of the door (while waiting emotionlessly) and M followed suit. ... When we were downstairs on the streets, I saw "The American Show" stripclub and remembered with nostalgia the day where M playfully covered my eyes while a stripper dance around the pole, flashing her partly covered privates. That sadness came over me again (I thought I was 100% over him but it seems like a no).
So M walked alongside me while the other 2 girls were slowly tagging along behind. He probably felt the awkwardness of the silence and decided to take the initiative to speak. He said he felt so tired he now desperately needed his bed and I said I know and was pleasantly cordial with him. I asked him when he was going to London and he said 2nd December and he asked me what about myself. I said the following Saturday and he said, "Oh, that's too soon." I think it's like what you would say as a pleasantry (KC said the same when I told him I was leaving for Ozland the following month in 1999) as I am wont to do with people.
We took the same train and spoke little...
...So M and I spoke very little on the metro as aforementioned. I asked him what he really planned to do apart from teaching English and he said he said he didn't know. Also, I said to him that if he ever come to Australia, I would host him and he said the same for me too if I go visit Chile.... They alighted at the "Reamur Sebastopol" stop and I kissed the siblings goodbye. That was that and this morning, I woke up with an aching heart for him.
One thing that I should perhaps mention is that when we kissed goodbye, the proximity allowed me to catch the scent of his cologne. Then I remembered it as a familiar smell on that very special night and that even beautiful Saturday morning and that memeory filled my lead- heavy heart with further sadness. It was quiet and suppressed sadness though, as I figured I have resigned to fate. Resigned to the fact that I would never have my wishlist closure with him. To feel that peace in my heart that I could completely and willingly let him go, much as I keep saying to the girls.
It's less than a week to my real departure. A serious departure, nonetheless. The departure of this part of my secret life and my next uncertain journey is making me shaking a little. My only hope is that when I leave this place, I will continue to be friends with M and on the level where I have totally let him go. He is after all, a young girl with many younger girls to chase (like I earlier said) and a guy from a totally different world from mine. I should be thankful that he contributed to that very beauty in my life. Transient it may seem but nonetheless memorable. Good things come in small parcels, just like fine food as Pato told me last night courtesy of his mum's words of wisdom and that is also the attitude that he is taking with regards to his encounter with C.
I have stopped lamenting why my experience with M never got into a deeper level like Pato's and C's. But things happen for a reason like us girls have gathered from this experience. So maybe I'll figure it out better in hindsight when I leave this city of romance. Well, at least I got to taste romance in forms of bitter and sweet in Paris. That is all it should matter.
M stared at my shoes on the metro in silence. Maybe he was lost in his own private thoughts. I had a feeling he meant to say something to me. Perhaps something nice and pleasant to hear, only that he was perhaps afraid that he might give me wrong ideas. I don't know I may be wrong. But what does it really matter?
I reckon I will never find out what happened between us when the lights went down. I searched my darnest memory but still I do not know or recaall. Maybe M would know and in this regard, he got a glimpse of my weakness and it's for him to keep. Strange, how in this sense, he knows something about me that I do not know.
At Pato's apartment last night, I finally had the courage to my usual toast in M's presence. And this toast will and should forever be my motto to life. And it all started in Paris where I shared it with my new found friends. So now I shall end here for the night to my 4 cheers of toast and hopefully, I can find happiness in them. "Cheers/salud/salut ("chin chin") to good life, good health, friendship forever and good sex!" :) "
"28/10/04
..."I remember waking up on a Saturday morning and saw the sky and knew it was going to be a beautiful day ("bueno dias", he told me) cos' it was indeed a clear sunny day with blue skies and plus waking up in the arms of someone so georgeous and tender, that was like a dream come true. I touched his face, his little stubby stubs, his eyebrows and his hair. He seemed unreal and I gazed into his beautiful eyes. That feeling was undescribably good. Simply beautiful and filled with tenderness. Lust was part of the deal but not the whole deal. There was a certain beauty to the whole experience. Something to remember for a lifetime. It certainly wasn't love but it was a beautiful feeling. There was so much beauty, I can't even quite descibe it. He was tender and the times where he hugged me so tight (oh, it's been ages since DL did that) like he was in love with me. At that instant, I just wanted to believe just for the hell of it, for just that moment. But my practical mind struggled to say no lest I get hurt. He's after all a young boy with many younger girls to chase and go out with...
Ah well, guess that's that for the night. But again I think I need to sleep on a beautiful dream as tomorrow morning's gonna be a hard and gruelling time for me with regards to Em. So M, it'll still be, that dream (alas, a beautiful one) to sleep on for the night... not unless someone better comes along. But how am I to know? I can't bear to add on to the numbers. I kindda wish to stop and settle for M for the rest of my time in Paris. My "m" is all I need for now. I think..."
"21/11/04
...When it was about 6a.m, we all decided to take off- Me, M, O,T and Sy. I was first to be out of the door (while waiting emotionlessly) and M followed suit. ... When we were downstairs on the streets, I saw "The American Show" stripclub and remembered with nostalgia the day where M playfully covered my eyes while a stripper dance around the pole, flashing her partly covered privates. That sadness came over me again (I thought I was 100% over him but it seems like a no).
So M walked alongside me while the other 2 girls were slowly tagging along behind. He probably felt the awkwardness of the silence and decided to take the initiative to speak. He said he felt so tired he now desperately needed his bed and I said I know and was pleasantly cordial with him. I asked him when he was going to London and he said 2nd December and he asked me what about myself. I said the following Saturday and he said, "Oh, that's too soon." I think it's like what you would say as a pleasantry (KC said the same when I told him I was leaving for Ozland the following month in 1999) as I am wont to do with people.
We took the same train and spoke little...
...So M and I spoke very little on the metro as aforementioned. I asked him what he really planned to do apart from teaching English and he said he said he didn't know. Also, I said to him that if he ever come to Australia, I would host him and he said the same for me too if I go visit Chile.... They alighted at the "Reamur Sebastopol" stop and I kissed the siblings goodbye. That was that and this morning, I woke up with an aching heart for him.
One thing that I should perhaps mention is that when we kissed goodbye, the proximity allowed me to catch the scent of his cologne. Then I remembered it as a familiar smell on that very special night and that even beautiful Saturday morning and that memeory filled my lead- heavy heart with further sadness. It was quiet and suppressed sadness though, as I figured I have resigned to fate. Resigned to the fact that I would never have my wishlist closure with him. To feel that peace in my heart that I could completely and willingly let him go, much as I keep saying to the girls.
It's less than a week to my real departure. A serious departure, nonetheless. The departure of this part of my secret life and my next uncertain journey is making me shaking a little. My only hope is that when I leave this place, I will continue to be friends with M and on the level where I have totally let him go. He is after all, a young girl with many younger girls to chase (like I earlier said) and a guy from a totally different world from mine. I should be thankful that he contributed to that very beauty in my life. Transient it may seem but nonetheless memorable. Good things come in small parcels, just like fine food as Pato told me last night courtesy of his mum's words of wisdom and that is also the attitude that he is taking with regards to his encounter with C.
I have stopped lamenting why my experience with M never got into a deeper level like Pato's and C's. But things happen for a reason like us girls have gathered from this experience. So maybe I'll figure it out better in hindsight when I leave this city of romance. Well, at least I got to taste romance in forms of bitter and sweet in Paris. That is all it should matter.
M stared at my shoes on the metro in silence. Maybe he was lost in his own private thoughts. I had a feeling he meant to say something to me. Perhaps something nice and pleasant to hear, only that he was perhaps afraid that he might give me wrong ideas. I don't know I may be wrong. But what does it really matter?
I reckon I will never find out what happened between us when the lights went down. I searched my darnest memory but still I do not know or recaall. Maybe M would know and in this regard, he got a glimpse of my weakness and it's for him to keep. Strange, how in this sense, he knows something about me that I do not know.
At Pato's apartment last night, I finally had the courage to my usual toast in M's presence. And this toast will and should forever be my motto to life. And it all started in Paris where I shared it with my new found friends. So now I shall end here for the night to my 4 cheers of toast and hopefully, I can find happiness in them. "Cheers/salud/salut ("chin chin") to good life, good health, friendship forever and good sex!" :) "
