Passera

Crooning on my STEREO: Come Primavera by IL DIVO

Stupidly enough, I seem to be suffering from consecutive attacks of various withdrawal syndromes. First, it was the post-Italy depression. And now... I'm suffering from a number of post-Il Divo fits. I am wondering why my optimistic start to 2007 is plagued by such life threatening emo attacks. It's like the curse of the daily PMS.

Nah, kidding. Blame it on the humid climate. At least I've been honing some constructive skills during the last 10 days.


You see, I've been stalking Il Divo. From Velvet to Bar Savanh and back to Velvet. I forgot to include the number of times (and hours) I've loitered at Shangrila. Funny how nobody chased me out unlike the last time I stalked Mika Hakkinen in Pan Pacific.

Sad, I know.


And I've met Carlos at least 4 times during their week in KL. So much so that he had to acknowledge me with a rather horrified 'oh-my-god-its-you-again!' smile while on stage.


January 16th was downright special because I spent the previous 3 months on blood, sweat and tears to obtain a front row seat for the concert. With all that close proximity, my saliva glands had been bruised. I was drooling chronically.

As one of the rare few who actually PAID for their tickets, I have to declare my bankruptcy to the world.


But I made some fantastic friends (or what they call Il Divo fanatics- 'Divas') who are as obssessed as I am. We were the starstruck lot who would run around in prom dresses screaming 'I love Il Divo!!' and terrorising posh women in the ballroom.


I "met" (or had some sort of the slightest contact) with the man of my dreams for the grand total of 4 times.

The first time I was screaming into his ear half drunk in an immensely crowded nightclub. I apparently kissed him on the cheek. As for the second time, I sized him up at Shangrila when he couldn't remember my name.

The third time was when I summoned every god-given courage I had just to hand him a rose on stage. We are talking about an audience of 3000 people of all species. (1/3 of whom recognised my tacky blonde highlights thereafter.)

Thing is, I didn't do what fans usually do; (ie. kiss your idol on the cheek, rape him there and then or to embrace him like a god.)

Instead I did this:-

I walked up to him in the manner of a zombie.
He then flashed his divine smile at me.
I froze.
I chucked the rose at him.
And ran for my life.

And only God knows why I did that.

I am such a cow.


I had to post this same picture twice. Simply because this final photo with him (as I was chasing him out of the ballroom) was a consolation to my rudeness on stage.

Oh boy, you only live once.

I finally met the man who had been reigning my bedroom wall.
I am 23 and I should stop lusting over boybands.

Life Goes On.....

Crooning on my STEREO: La Gente Sta Male by AFTERHOURS

2007 kicked off on the rocky side. At the stroke of midnight I downed cheap acidic champagne, followed by two hours of tortured sleep on an overboarded aircraft (Btw, don't EVER fly economy on KLM) and returning to an empty house for dinner. I spent the next three days hibernating at home, crying on the phone and restructuring my cashflow to survive on unemployment.

Some of you may know that I will be on a sabbatical till February, simply because I desperately need time to recover from my post-italy syndrome and to reconsider my next career move. Honestly, I have absolutely no idea as to what I should do next. My ex-company is hunting me down and I am still giving them the blank look.

This has to be my most listless start to a New Year.

Apart from the usual soul-searching and wallowing.... I've also been stalking 4 grown men who are currently residing at the Shangri-La. As they say, the groupie blood will always dwell in me.

AND GUESS WHAT?

I clubbed with the supposed MAN OF MY DREAMS at Velvet Underground. The man I've been lusting over the past 2 years. The man who reigned my bedroom walls. The man who surpassed the great Iker Casillas in my romantic fantasies.

Thing is... I didn't collapse in ecstasy as I initially I thought I would have if I met Sebastien Izambard in flesh and blood.

In fact, I was actually quite appalled at how red his face was. I think it is all that hardcore frying under the equator. And his girlfriend was throwing herself all over him.

SUCH A TURN OFF.

But I realised something pretty important. Despite all that glam and good looks, I will be a thousand times happier if I could meet a certain man who is currently a few thousand miles away from me.



Yes. You'd guess it right. I am stalking Il Divo because I thought it would replace someone whom I've just lost. Boy, I was so wrong. No one can ever replace the man who saw through my imperfections and gave me a chance to love and be happy.

Truth is, I am still grieving. From the moment I left Perugia I knew that life will never be the same.

I miss the simple life. By returning to KL, I am faced with social obligations. I've been thrown back into the world of materialistic socialites who are as fake as plastics can be. People who will judge you by the way you look. People who will only talk to you if they thought that you are related to an influential figure. People who will abandon you when you are of no use to them.

Such is life, but they say that life must go on.



Let's just treasure the best memories from 2006 and face 2007 with a courageous smile.

Syat and Meera... we will take over the world, okay? ;)